Lazy Sundays (Lazy Days Book 1)

by K-lee Klein

  Of course, Devon was dealing with his own fractured heart. Guilt about not being honest with Scott in the first place topped that list. The pain of losing someone he'd known over half of his life and the heartbreak of Scott breaking up with him made him feel a lot more vulnerable than usual. He hoped that seeing Scott and his friends would help heal his wounded heartstrings.

  Getting back together had glued together some of the shattered pieces, but Devon still had work to do, penance to pay Scott for the lies and deceit. He was an open book now and had already begun encouraging Scott to ask him absolutely anything. There was no doubt in Devon's mind that Scott still had questions, concerns, and trust issues. Who could blame him? Devon's own mom would've been disappointed with how he acted.

  That's why he'd planned something special for Scott as soon as he got back into town. Devon wanted Scott to see the real him, so he'd prepared a day to hopefully accomplish that. That, of course, was dependent on Scott liking the things Devon had planned.

  Love was weird. That was Devon's true feeling on the matter. It could make a guy see starbursts or rip his heart out or sometimes both. But Devon could do love. He was raised to show his emotions and his fears and that's what he intended on showing Scott; the many strange facets of who Devon DuCaine was, with no exceptions.

  Loving Scott was one of the best things Devon had ever done. Why else would he be standing on Scott's stoop after only four hours of sleep, sweating like he'd been ripping it up on stage, a stupid heart-shaped box of chocolates hanging heavy and awkward in his hand? He felt like some grade school reject waiting for the cute boy in the desk behind him to notice he existed, not a multi-album rocker with a reputation of being a badass.

  He knocked again, stepping back to the edge of the top step to try and peer in the porch window. Anxiety, excitement and exhilaration mixed with hell-yes anticipation that made everything speed-up in his head and body were prerequisites when Devon readied himself for a performance, but this totally didn't feel the same. This was more of an uncomfortable quivering in his belly, a heavy bassline thumping in his ears, and sweating hands that had no reason to be that way on a misty February day.

  It suddenly occurred to him that Scott might be dealing with some panic of his own and there Devon was standing outside worried about clammy palms. Scott was one of the strongest guys Devon had ever met and he gave mad props to Scott for dealing with something commonplace to him, but nonetheless terrifying and unfair. Scott was a great man and Devon hated that he dealt with so much shit, but that's why he was there, right? To bring some sunshine to Scott's day, despite the overcast Vancouver morning?

  Despite wanting to see Scott so badly, Devon was beginning to seriously contemplate getting back on his bike and starting the day over—later, much later. Had he mixed up the days? Maybe Scott had been called into work. Or he just wanted to sleep in on his day off and not be bothered by Devon's early morning enthusiasm. Devon wasn't sure he'd even given Scott a specific time for when he'd be picking him up. Dumb Dev.

  The rattling of the chain from the other side of the door drew Devon back to the top of the steps. He couldn't chicken out now. Nerves or not, he had big plans and since he was the planner, wiggling out of the situation would make him a goddamn jerk and liar…again. The deadbolt slid open and Devon was finally facing a disheveled, but adorable—and confused—Scott Weston.

  “Good morning, sweetheart,” Devon boomed, slipping into his best Southern drawl. He knew it melted Scott from the inside out. He was feeling pretty melty himself right then, too. He smiled hopefully into Scott's heavy-lidded eyes. The glazed baby-blues weren't focusing on him though, and unfortunately, Scott didn't seem to be heading to the melting department too damn fast either. “You look like you've seen a ghost. Didn't wake ya, did I?”

  Scott wrinkled up his nose and pursed his lips, one hand scrubbing over his face without the slightest hint of coordination. He was pretty damn adorable.

  “Dev? Of course, you woke me. It's barely light out. What are you…what the fuck time is it?”

  Devon snorted and chuckled at Scott's response. Swearing was a rare occurrence for Scott, but Devon had proven to be a bad influence. “Just after eight.”

  He marveled at the sleep-wrinkled face he'd become so attached to while Scott kept trying to blink and rub away his bleariness. His eyebrows knitted together into a V, his mouth opened wide as a jaw-cracking yawn overtook him, and he stretched his arms over his head for a moment. Devon was dying to run his fingers through his short hair that was sticking up in every direction. He wanted to slide a hand around his waist, then under the striped pajamas top, while the other tucked into the matching pajama bottoms that hung loose on Scott's hips.

  There was something about a freshly woken Scott that made Devon tingle all over. But seriously, ten days was a lifetime of not touching, holding, kissing. Dammit, the annoying squeeing in Devon's head told him he could barely wait a second more to do all the above. Who was the squealing groupie now, Devastation?

  Clearing his throat to relieve the lump of squee lodged in his esophagus, he tucked a finger under Scott's unshaven chin. “Time to get your ass out of bed. I missed you.” He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Scott's unprepared lips, ready to get smacked or shoved away. But Scott surprised him by parting his lips and slanting his mouth over Devon's. It was quick, chaste, but it cleared some of the clouds from Devon's brain and he had the urge to growl like some possessive alpha beast claiming his mate. Mine. Scott would have a field day with that information and Devon swore that would never happen.

  After nipping at Devon's bottom lip, Scott soothed the hurt with his tongue, then eased back. He flattened a hand over Devon's chest and simpered mischievously. “Good morning,” he said, his expression open and happy.

  Of course, Devon smirked like an idiot, his thumb lazily swiping at a dot of dried drool in the corner of Scott's mouth. “I was gonna ask you if you forgot about our date, but I think we're pretty clear on that now.”

  Scott snickered and swatted Devon's hand away. “How could I forget when you ordered me to take the day off? Of course, I thought days off, even forced ones, were meant for sleeping-in.” Scott puffed-out his bottom lip and scratched blunt nails over Devon's coat.

  “Dude, I didn't order you.” The look on Scott's smug face suddenly alerted Devon to what was actually going on. “You're totally messing with me, aren't you?” Dammit, Devon wanted to grab Scott and have his way with him right there on the steps. His dick was already rising in approval and Devon willed it to lay the fuck down because that was not part of the plan, at least not yet. He buried the notion but not enough to deny the flash of desire that still heated him from the inside out. Tonight would be a totally different story. But with Scott Weston involved, who knew what would transpire in the end. Devon was all right with that.

  “Sorry.” Scott smiled saccharine-sweet. “Requested day off. But I still don't know what's going on. Care to share with the class?”

  “Nope.” Devon popped the P with a cheeky grin. “Especially since I know for a fact you're just being a little shit.”

  Fluttering light eyelashes in Devon's direction, Scott attempted to do his angel routine. “I don't know what you're talking about. Is that a nice way to talk to your boyfriend?” Little shit to the damn max.

  Devon used his best opera-clap to show Scott his appreciation for his talent. “Bravo. Academy Award performance, Mr. Weston. Unfortunately, it's not working on me. You're really bad at surprises, aren't you?”

  “Now why would you say—I'm OCD, what do you expect?” Scott rolled his eyes, one hand poised on his hip. He still had tufts of hair popping up all over his head that definitely didn't add any seriousness to his attempt at being intimidating.

  Devon leaned against the railing, arms crossed over his chest to remind him not to touch. “Do you know how adorable you are?”

  The sudden press of Scott's body and mouth set Devon off balance, but he recovered quickly, sliding his
hand around the back of Scott's head to pull him in closer. When Scott's tongue shoved inside his mouth, tangling and twisting like it was trying its hardest to reach Devon's tonsils, Devon eased away with a mournful groan. “Since when do you make out on your step, sweetheart? Maybe we should take this inside. Or do you have a new exhibitionist kink you wanna share with me?”

  Scott's blushed, peering up and down the street as he abruptly pulled out of Devon's reach. “Are there people out…” He met Devon's smirk with a scowl. “You jerk. I can assure you that will never be a kink I'll be accused of.” The frown turned upside down when Scott's hand dropped to his side and he accidently brushed Devon's crotch. “Oh my god. I'm sorry. Jesus what am I doing?” Scott hissed at Devon's hearty groan which turned into a fit of giggles. He clicked his tongue before grabbing the bottom of Devon's leather jacket and tugging him through the door. “You do very bad things to me.”

  “Is that an invitation?” Devon growled his best eight-in-the-morning sexy growl.

  Scott ignored the comment. “I thought rockstars didn't like to get up early after they, you know, partied all night,” he teased as he closed the door and went about relocking it. His feet were bare, and Devon had to avert his eyes. Did Scott know about that particular kink?

  Instead, he cleared his throat and kept his focus on Scott's sleepy face. “Flew back last night but there's no rockstar here today. Devastation Caine is not in the building. I'm just Devon, and Devon has an awesome day planned for you once you get your cute little ass out of those even cuter pajamas.”

  “Is that part of the surprise?” Scott eyed him with suspicion. “Will I take off my clothes, and then have you parade me around town naked?”

  Devon's mouth dropped open, he touched Scott's shoulder. “Parade you—what the hell are you talking about?” He was confused and a little offended that Scott would think such a thing. “Did that…did that really happen?”

  Scott shook his head. “Not exactly. It was mostly a dream or nightmare or something.” Mostly? Devon was shook. “Don't look at me like that,” Scott blurted. “I'm theorizing since I'm not sure any of the surprises I've ever received have been added to my good list.”

  The tone of the conversation turned somber instantly and Devon felt like a heel. “I'm sorry. We don't have to go,” he offered, rubbing the back of his neck, one hand still wrapped around Scott. “How about we—”

  “Just tell me if this is something I need to be anxious about.” Scott’s request was succinct and to the point.

  “Um, I don't think so, at least not in a way you won't feel good about after. And I'll be there with you. If it's too overwhelming, any of it, we can come back here. No questions asked.” Even as the words left his mouth, Devon was thinking and rethinking the plan. He was studying his shoes when Scott poked him in the ribs. He looked up into calm eyes again.

  “Do you accept bribes?” Scott asked, cheekily, one eyebrow cocked seductively. Devon couldn't tell if he was being played, or had been played, or whatever, and it didn't matter. If Scott was trying to lighten things up, Devon was all in.

  “Bribes, huh? Not telling you a thing, sweetheart, but I mean, maybe it depends on the bribe. Wanna give me a sample?” He leered at Scott, but his boyfriend called his bluff.

  The corner of Scott's mouth quirked in amusement. “I recall something about my naked ass? Of course, that might make us late for your plan—oof!”

  Devon felt no remorse for the pathetic noise Scott made when he pushed him against the wall, the box in his left hand falling to the floor as he pressed their bodies together. Besides, Scott was grinning like a loon when Devon pinned his wrists on either side of his head like Devon knew he loved. Their next good morning kiss was neither chaste nor even tender. And Scott gave as good as he got, tossing unbridled need, and want, and lust, and love at Devon with a single kiss. He arched against Devon, flexible and purring like a damn cat. His thin pajama pants left nothing to the imagination, especially when Scott tucked his half-hard dick against Devon's leg. Devon thought he might come in his pants.

  But he kept kissing Scott, tongues fighting for dominance in the small expanse of their mouths. He loved Scott's taste—toothpaste fresh despite his apparent sudden awakening—his smell—laundry detergent and harsh soap—his feel—hot, responsive, and solid in Devon's arms. The telltale heat of his own arousal was warm in his gut, rapidly spreading over his lower body, and heading into the urgent please help me quadrant.

  He moaned into Scott's mouth, smiling against his lips when the sound was echoed back at him. After adjusting his grip on Scott's wrists, Devon slid a thigh between Scott's legs. He pressed his knee carefully against Scott's groin, rubbing over the burgeoning bulge tenting Scott's pants. Scott gasped and bit into Devon's bottom lip. Devon didn't need that lip anyhow.

  Scott screwed his eyes closed when Devon applied a little more pressure and friction with his thigh. Had it only been ten days? It felt like months since he'd touched Scott.

  When Scott sucked on Devon's tongue and did that weird little twisty thing against his teeth, Devon's heart joined in. It burst rapid and screaming in his ears, flipping against his ribs like it had every intention of jumping from his body to Scott's. It made sense since Scott owned it anyhow.

  The need to touch Scott, really touch him, hit Devon hard, and he released Scott's hands so he could cup his face between his fingers. He leaned into Scott and licked deep into his mouth, swiping his thumbs over high cheekbones and morning stubble. It would be so easy to give in to what they both wanted, needed in that moment, because who knew morning wood could still be so demanding outside the bedroom?

  Devon's brain spun as fast as the lust in his veins. He could simply sweep Scott into his bedroom and spend the day in bed with nothing to do but kiss and suck and lick and fuck. But that wasn't the plan and being that it was rare for Devon to plan anything, he intended on seeing this one through. That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a little more Scott time before the day began.

  Scott moaned and suddenly switched their positions. He shoved Devon to the opposite wall, hard, his mouth doing amazing things as it covered Devon's in a clash of lips, tongues and teeth. They'd discovered kissing was one of their favorite pastimes and there were some days Devon wanted to feast on Scott's lips, taste him until there was nothing left to taste. He wanted to kiss him until their mouths were red and chapped, and their tongues exhausted from the effort. This was definitely one of those times.

  There'd been one time when Devon had made Scott come without touching anything but his hair, face, mouth and throat. It was the most erotic and intimate thing he'd ever seen; Scott thrusting and convulsing against thin air while Devon held his face between his hands, licking, kissing, nipping across his jaw, down the long column of his pale throat, and over that sensitive spot behind his ear. He'd bit hard into his bottom lip, close to coming himself when Scott cried out his release and a wet spot had appeared in the front of his jeans and the smell of sex seeped into the air.

  Just thinking about it now made him almost reconsider his plan, again.

  When Scott started fingering the zipper-pull on Devon's jacket, Devon slid his thumbs over the sharp planes of Scott's face, mapping it to memory while he peppered soft kisses over his cheeks and jaw. “Fuck, I want you right now,” he whispered as Scott chased his lips for another kiss. “Missed you so much.”

  Scott sucked Devon's bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a gentle tug but immediately soothing it with his tongue. “Bedroom?” His eyes shone stormy blue, dark with lust and sparkling with desire and hope.

  They were both hard, their bodies so close they could barely breath while they rocked against each other enough for their lengths to softly rub and rut. Scott's pupils were blown, the heat of his gaze sending sparking shivers up Devon's spine. It would've been so easy to simply take Scott in his room or on the couch or in the shower. So easy…but goddamn it, Devon was trying to be a good boyfriend, a good responsible boyfriend, and the guys woul
d probably crucify him if he didn't go through with his scheme. He couldn't believe he had to cock-block himself.

  “No,” he croaked trying for tender but proving more forced. He wiped a hand over his face and gently pushed Scott away. “You need to get dressed… preferably in a room I'm not in so I can try to get my goddamn little soldier to stand down and not at attention.”

  “Oh my god.”

  Scott's giggles were surprising and endearing. Devon had missed the soft timbre of Scott's voice, the embarrassed chuckle, the muffled snorts he tried so hard to hide, and the giggle that always followed. There was a joy in his laughter that didn't often transfer to the soberness of his life. That Devon could make him let go in that way, was a matter of pride.

  In truth, Devon missed everything about Scott and that had surprised even him. He'd felt unstable and been called a grouchy bear by more than one person, except after their reconciliation when he'd apparently turned into an overexcited Golden Retriever. He didn't care. Love could turn anyone into an animal. The look of rejection in Scott's eyes after their confrontation at the concert, the hurt and anger and just fucking pain that Devon knew his dishonesty had caused still haunted him.

  Before that day Devon had never considered how fast and completely he'd fallen for Scott. He'd never regretted anything in his life as much as the actions that sent Scott running from Devon's life. It was a miracle to have him back, one Devon would never take for granted. And if he had to grovel and beg for the rest of his life, he intended to make it up to Scott—starting with today if they ever got their asses in gear and out of the house.

  He'd made it his mission in life to only make Scott happy.

  Today was no different, but in fact, he hoped it would make all the difference in the world.

  “Your soldier doesn't feel so little right now? Sure you don't want me to give him, um it, some special attention?”

  Devon rested his forehead to Scott's, avoiding his gaze, and the hand stroking his backside. “You're making this way harder—that's not what I meant…geez Scott.”