The Backup Boyfriend

by River Jaymes

  He increased the pressure, and Alec’s lips opened willingly beneath his. The surge of satisfaction had Dylan shifting closer, instinctively tipping his head to seek a better position. First left. And then exploring from the right, gathering more of that mouth with his. A stream of sensations whizzed by like the blur of scenery at high rates of speed. The sensations included heat and moisture and softness, as well as hot, damp breath and the faint taste of a fruity wine.

  Enjoying the hard chest beneath his hand, Dylan slid his palm lower, past the flat abdomen and landing on the lean jut of Alec’s hip. Alec let out a tiny whimper, and Dylan just managed not to haul the man closer.

  Not a trace of disgust pricked Dylan’s conscious. In fact, his body grew frustrated by the limited contact, so he opened his mouth wider, pressed deep. Alec moaned beneath him, as if asking for more.

  Oh God, no. No tongue. No way was Dylan up for tongue.

  The entire event couldn’t have lasted longer than five seconds, maybe six—okay, more like ten—but then Alec touched his tongue to Dylan’s lower lip, right before giving it a gentle nip. The pleasure nearly crippled Dylan, and he groaned.

  Jesusfuckingchrist.

  Dylan drew back, stunned. Body smoking. Blood boiling. Limbs singed.

  What the hell?

  Blue eyes blinked up at him. “Sorry.” Alec cleared his throat. “Got a little carried away.”

  Dylan wiped his mouth, surprised to find his fingers shook a little. “S’okay, man.” He swiped a hand through his hair and hoped he appeared calmer than he felt. “I’m the one who started the whole lip-lock idea.”

  Several seconds passed by as Dylan tried to get his act together while Alec looked as if he was in pain.

  Alec finally spoke again. “I need another drink.”

  And all Dylan could think was I need about twenty.

  ~~~***~~~

  Two shots of tequila later, with the stability of his knees still in question, retreat seemed to be Alec’s only option.

  Three uniformed servers bustled across the hardwood floor of Noah’s kitchen. The impressive room contained restaurant quality appliances, eleven-foot ceilings, and huge windows overlooking the bay. Silver platters of appetizers lined the granite countertop. Although the space also included a full wine refrigerator and the bottle of Patrón Alec had pulled from the cupboard, he appreciated the solitude the most. He needed to focus on recovering from the feel of Dylan’s mouth pressed against his.

  For the first few seconds of the kiss, all Alec could think was this isn’t real. Of course Dylan wanted to show Tyler up. But the longer the moment had gone on, the more genuine the scenario felt, until Alec had begun to envision how the night could end, with Alec on his knees in front of Dylan. Or vice versa. And, oh God…

  He pressed his lids closed, rubbing his eyes.

  “Alec.”

  He looked up and met Tyler’s gray gaze, his ex leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. Alec’s heart picked up its thudding pace, and he braced for the encounter.

  Wasn’t a make-out session with Dylan in front of fifty of Noah’s friends—not to mention the fallout from the event—enough to contend with for one night? And exactly when had Alec’s life turned into a headline worthy of People magazine?

  Alec took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in his chest. “Tyler—”

  At the same time, Tyler said, “I want to—”

  They both paused, and the heavy atmosphere grew more oppressive. A muscle in Tyler’s jaw twitched, a habit that Alec remembered from the early days of their relationship. Every time they’d met with an organization to request financial support for their newly founded clinic, Tyler had been well prepared. Cool. Confident. Sharply dressed and in total control. Except for the small tic that had been the only clue to Tyler’s discomfort.

  The same tic that had appeared the afternoon Tyler told Alec goodbye.

  Alec’s pulse increased to an uncomfortable rate. He’d fought hard for the right for them to marry. All he’d ever wanted was to share his life, his home, with someone special. Commitment. Tyler knew that the day he’d moved in. And was that too much to ask?

  Apparently Tyler thought so.

  “Actually, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way things went down,” Tyler said as he entered the kitchen. “I realize me leaving seemed to come out of the blue. And I know how hard that can be.”

  For the first time since the breakup, Alec let his anger take the lead. “Do you?” The whiplash turn of events had left Alec stunned. He’d never even had a chance to save the relationship. “Everything seemed fine, and the next thing I knew, you were gone.”

  Tyler glanced out the window. “In college, the same thing happened to me.” He crossed his arms. “I never did figure out what went wrong.”

  Alec leaned back against the counter. “This is news to me.”

  Tyler had mentioned he’d dated a guy in college. From Tyler’s expression now, Alec knew the relationship must have been serious. But why was he just learning this now?

  “Memphis Haines and I were together for a year and a half before he broke it off without warning,” Tyler said.

  Alec almost laughed at the bitter irony until he recognized the name. “Memphis Haines the stunt guy?”

  “He wasn’t famous back then. But that’s not the point I’m trying to make.”

  Alec held his ex’s gaze, struggling to control the resentment that had been festering for over two months. “What is your reason for being here?”

  “To say that I should have given you a little warning. But we’d grown too comfortable, I think. I knew you’d talk me out of leaving.” The hint of a smile lacked any real humor. “The path of least resistance and all,” he said. “But tonight I—”

  Something flashed in Tyler’s eyes just before he shifted his gaze to one of the large bay windows. Alec remained silent and studied Tyler’s profile as the source of that brief emotion finally connected, an emotion Alec had never seen on Tyler’s face before.

  Jealousy.

  Tyler was jealous.

  Alec swept a hand down his face, hoping to hide his surprise. Christ, Dylan should be here to witness the sight. And Alec wasn’t above admitting a small part of him—the side permanently stuck in adolescence, no doubt—took some satisfaction from the knowledge. Since the split, Alec had experienced a whole host of emotions, from shock to disbelief to anger.

  But the self-satisfied, junior high schooler thoughts were definitely new.

  The sound of someone clearing his throat interrupted the moment. Alec looked over to where Dylan stood in the doorway, studying them both with a guarded expression.

  Finally, Dylan’s gaze settled on Alec. “You okay?”

  Shit. He couldn’t answer that question until after this conversation with Tyler.

  “Yeah.” Alec’s gaze flicked back to Tyler. “We were just setting a few things straight.”

  Dylan hesitated before giving a sharp nod. “I’ll let you two get back to it then.” With one more questioning look in Alec’s direction, he turned and headed back toward the party.

  Tyler watched Dylan go. “He’s a little…”

  Smart-mouthed? Insane? Too beautiful for words? No sense in adding the excellent-kisser label. Alec pushed the memory of the moment from his mind.

  “Rough around the edges,” Tyler finished.

  Alec stared at the doorway, remembering the feel of Dylan’s calluses against his skin. Just the thought sent goose bumps popping up along his spine. Why the sudden fixation with rough hands?

  “I have to admit the man is definitely good looking.” Tyler’s gaze steadily met Alec’s. “But he doesn’t fit your usual MO.”

  You mean my attraction to men who are actually gay?

  This time the bitter laugh escaped. No need to share the tidbit about Dylan’s orientation with Tyler just yet.

  “Is this the new you?” Tyler leaned against the far counter. “A man into sex swings and no-strings-attac
hed fucking?”

  Anger flared higher.

  You made your choice. And it wasn’t me.

  “That’s none of your business anymore,” Alec said.

  “You’re right. But I still don’t think he’s what you want.”

  After all those months of Alec attending every gay marriage demonstration he could, Tyler had known what Alec wanted. He’d thought the fight worthy of his dedication, every moment of his day taken up by either the clinic or the next demonstration.

  When Noah called to discuss the clinic—which he did, frequently—Alec made a point of being available. When his mother informed him of another demonstration, Alec had stepped up and participated.

  He’d believed the time a wise investment in the future. Their future.

  “What should I want?” Alec said.

  “What you’ve always wanted,” Tyler replied. “A committed relationship.”

  “Commitment didn’t work out so well for me.”

  “So you’ve decided to change your priorities now?”

  “Maybe,” Alec said, struggling to maintain a cool tone. “Maybe not.”

  Tyler held his gaze, and Alec read a whole host of emotions contained in the single crease in Tyler’s forehead. Anger. Genuine puzzlement. Even a hint of concern.

  “I think you’re making a big mistake,” Tyler said.

  This seemed particularly damning coming from a man who didn’t know Dylan’s true orientation.

  “If so,” Alec said evenly, “it’s my mistake to make.”

  Alec pushed up from the counter and left to go in search of more alcohol…and Dylan.

  Chapter Six

  Crap, this wasn’t going at all like he’d planned.

  Dylan gripped the same whiskey he’d been nursing since the kiss that had kicked him in the ass. He longed to slug the rest back, along with about twenty more. But someone had to remain in control because Alec looked totally buzzed. Correction, Alec seemed a stone’s throw away from sloppy.

  Served Dylan right for being so spiteful. If he hadn’t felt the need to put Tyler in his place, Dylan wouldn’t have deepened the kiss and—

  Jesus, who was he trying to convince here?

  Dylan knew his time on the streets had honed his abilities as a master bullshitter, but bullshitting himself was another thing.

  Since Alec had bitten Dylan’s lip, Dylan had been fighting to recover from the nip that had taken the moment from surprisingly hot to not nearly enough. And just when Dylan had decided he was okay with how the whole thing went down—cuz, really, what choice did he have?—and was ready to act as if everything was normal, Alec had headed straight for the kitchen.

  And then Tyler had followed Alec.

  For a second Dylan hadn’t known what to feel, the thoughts bumping around as if the gears in his brain had been stripped. A part of him had been happy for Alec, glad his friend might be winning back the man he’d lost. But another part of him had been friggin’ annoyed.

  He pushed the feelings away. Time for a reality check.

  There were friends, like Noah, and now Alec. And then there was sex, provided by women, a mutually satisfying exchange of the baser needs in life. Dylan liked sex. Lots of it. And he carefully selected companions who wanted the same and nothing more.

  Dylan didn’t know a thing about dealing with exes because he’d happily managed to avoid anything remotely resembling a relationship. A status he had every intention of maintaining, thankyouverymuch. Five years later and Noah still hadn’t recovered from losing Rick. Alec looked miserable and uncomfortable around Tyler.

  Who needed that kind of grief?

  And while Dylan had been thrown off kilter by the scene in the kitchen, never mind the lingering effects of the kiss, it appeared his newfound friend was no better off. After reentering the living room, Alec had headed straight for the bar and tossed back a shot of tequila.

  Followed by three more.

  With every drink Alec had gotten a little looser, until his demeanor was way too relaxed. So Dylan had corralled him in a corner, successfully keeping the guy away from most of the guests. Alec was leaning against Dylan pretty heavily now, and Noah was currently shooting Dylan heated questions with his eyes—as if he blamed the current fucked-up state of affairs on Dylan.

  “See?” Beaming, the doctor threw his arm around Dylan’s neck, pulling him closer. “I can’t keep my eyes off of you. How am I doing?”

  Try as he might, Dylan couldn’t pry his gaze from Alec’s lips. Dylan wasn’t going to waste time lying to himself anymore. The man had a fucking beautiful mouth, especially when it looked like it had at the end of their kiss, roughed up, red, and spit slicked…

  Dylan briefly pressed his lids closed. “You’re doing great,” he murmured.

  Although Alec felt a little too close for comfort.

  And while he’d hoped the kiss would feel dry and papery—and less than inspiring—he hadn’t seriously contemplated his world reversing course on its axis.

  Arm around Dylan’s neck, Alec snuggled his head into the crook of Dylan’s neck and let out a sigh. Dylan was considering what to do about the current predicament when Alec’s free hand cupped Dylan’s ass, sending sparks dancing across his skin.

  Man, he’d created a monster.

  “Ya know,” Alec said, his words slightly slurred as Dylan discreetly pulled Alec’s hand from his butt, “this party turned out a whole lot better than I’d expected.”

  “I should get you home,” Dylan said.

  “Excellent idea.”

  Alec’s smoldering look made Dylan nervous.

  Before Dylan could decide what to do next, Alec clutched the front of Dylan’s shirt, pulling him in the direction of the foyer.

  Leaving. Yep, leaving would definitely be good.

  Hoping to make an exit with as little attention as possible, Dylan simply trailed behind. The crowd in the living room had grown, yet Alec managed to thread his way through without stepping on toes or tripping over shoes. When they exited the living room, Dylan spied Tyler and his boyfriend in the foyer.

  Crap.

  With Alec in his current condition, passing those two would mean trouble for sure. A few drinks and the normally mild-mannered Dr. Alec Johnson became very outspoken. And kinda handsy. Dylan pulled Alec’s palm from his chest and linked their fingers together, hoping to keep them from wandering to more inappropriate areas.

  While Dylan eyed the space between the front door and Tyler, sizing up the distance and trying to decide how best to escape, Noah arrived from the kitchen, stopping at Tyler’s side.

  Fuck.

  Noah shot Dylan another what-the-hell? look, and Dylan veered sharply left, changing course to lead Alec down the deserted hallway and into Noah’s office. At least here Dylan could keep Alec from groping him in public. They could wait out Tyler’s departure, and Dylan could slip Alec out the exit without having to pass by Noah.

  “Let’s wait for the crowd at the doorway to clear before we leave,” Dylan said.

  “Perfect.”

  Alec closed the door. Before Dylan could register the intent in his eyes, Alec gripped Dylan’s jacket and stepped backward until his shoulder blades hit the wall, pulling Dylan close.

  “I’m good with that,” Alec said.

  “Come on, man.” Dylan gripped Alec’s wrist and pried it from his chest, totally ignoring how smooth the man’s hands were. “You’ve had too much to drink, and you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “Bullshit,” Alec muttered, leaning in to kiss Dylan.

  Dylan briefly froze. But, hell, if they started that up again, no telling where they’d wind up. Possibly on that futon along the far wall. Dylan turned his head to avoid the kiss, but Alec kept going, his mouth landing on Dylan’s neck instead.

  Hot breath fanned across Dylan’s skin. Lips nibbled at his now skyrocketing pulse. And Dylan’s dick gave an interested twitch.

  Fuck a duck.

  He needed to remind himself that t
his was his friend, a friend who was acting out of frustration after watching his ex all evening. Or maybe Alec was still reeling from the scene in the kitchen with Tyler. Had they made out? Had Alec put his hands on Tyler’s ass too?

  Dylan chose not to dwell on the possibility, and right now Alec didn’t seem to be thinking too much about Tyler. Lips whispering across Dylan’s throat, Alec groaned out Dylan’s name and placed a hand on his abdomen, just above the waistband.

  Beads of sweat broke out along the back of Dylan’s neck. Blood rushed through Dylan’s veins, confused as to whether to supply his conflicted brain, his limbs for escape, or more urgently needy areas. Dylan’s dick now demanded more than its fair share.

  No sense in denying the truth. While he’d been hitting first base with Alec, not only had Dylan not been grossed out or disgusted, not only had the act turned him on, the moment had planted ideas in Dylan’s mind. Ideas about Alec and…uh…more than just kisses.

  Dylan slammed his lids closed.

  Before his muddled brain could process Alec’s next move, Alec’s hand landed on Dylan’s zipper and flicked it open. A searing jolt shot through Dylan’s veins, and his eyelids popped open.

  Jesus, had he said something about those ideas out loud?

  “No touching the junk,” he scraped out as he reluctantly pulled the hand away. “Come on, Alec. Get your shit together, man.”

  Get your shit together, Booth.

  Fingers gripping Alec’s wrist, Dylan tried to prevent further crotch groping. He pressed his other palm against Alec’s chest to keep the man from plastering their torsos together, trying not to enjoy the hard plane of lean muscle.

  Distance. That’s all he needed, just a little distance.

  He was so busy congratulating himself on his success he forgot about the rigid hard-on confined beneath his briefs, bulging along the open zipper of his pants. Alec abandoned his attempts at a kiss and dropped to his knees to press his open mouth to Dylan’s cock.

  Dylan sucked in a strangled breath.