Something in Common (Dreamspinner Press Bundles)

by Talia Carmichael

  He prayed that there weren’t any cops around. Miguel would kill him if he got a ticket for speeding. The sound of sirens behind him made him curse. He glanced in his rearview mirror to see the distinctive red flashing lights of a cop car flagging him down.

  “Thank God it isn’t Miguel, or anyone in his precinct,” he said, grimacing.

  He wasn’t anywhere near Miguel’s station house. Maybe he could pay the ticket without Miguel finding out. He glanced at the digital clock on his dashboard; if he could get the ticketing over within the next fifteen minutes, he would still make it home in time to get his surprise for Miguel ready. He pulled over, turned off his car, and grabbed his identification and insurance.

  “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

  Robert shivered, startled at the deep, gruff, and distinctively sensual voice. It was still the kind of voice that called out to his darker senses, enticing erotic images of sexual delight. Images he knew were past anything he could imagine.

  “Miguel, what are you doing here? This isn’t your patrol area,” he said.

  His lover stood with his arms crossed over his chest and legs braced apart. His uniform pants framed his cock. Swallowing thickly, Robert wanted to get out of the car, unbutton his gun belt, then pants, and suck him. Pushing aside the wicked thoughts, he focused on Miguel’s face. His mirrored glasses covered those sexy eyes. A smirk curled his lips.

  “I was sent to cover at another station today. And it seems as if it was fate.”

  Although there was a lecture seeming to lurk in his voice, Robert wanted nothing but to bend over the car and beg Miguel to fuck him. He wiped his brow and tried to focus.

  “Do you know why I pulled you over?” Miguel asked again.

  Robert considered his question. He looked at Miguel and saw the small smile on his lips.

  “No, Officer,” he replied, ogling his package in those tight pants.

  His tall, buff lover shifted, making the muscles in his thigh move deliciously. A light sheen of sweat coated the enticingly colored warm, butterscotch skin. Robert’s tongue tingled to follow the sweat. The perfect features he knew so well were pulled into a stern mask. The slight catch in Miguel’s breath told Robert he was aroused. He looked back at his cock, and it was more pronounced against his pants.

  “You ran a red light.”

  It took a moment for what he said to register.

  Robert raised his eyes back to those mirrored shades. “I did, Officer? I thought it was yellow.”

  Miguel smirked, then moved his hands slightly, bringing Robert’s attention to them. Those long, thick, blunt fingers that gave him such pleasure were writing in a book. Miguel tore what he wrote off and handed it to Robert. Robert took it, stroking his finger down Miguel’s hand as he did. Miguel purred, then pulled his shades down a little so Robert could see his eyes. The hot hunger in them made him whimper.

  Miguel pushed his shades back up and walked away. Robert looked at what he had given him. He gaped at the ticket. He looked out the window and hummed at Miguel’s tight ass, and then he remembered the ticket.

  “A ticket! Come on, Miguel.”

  “The light was definitely red when you ran it, querido.”

  Robert narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you think giving me a ticket and calling me darling is contradictory?”

  Miguel glanced back at him. “Not at all, querido. See you later.”

  He gave him a wave, got in his car, and drove away. Robert stared after him, stupefied. He looked at the ticket and then where Miguel had disappeared from view. Checking the time, he started his car. He patted the box on the seat next to him. The surprise he had for Miguel was going to be used for a little payback. He pulled out onto the road and drove home, plotting for his lover.

  A FEW hours later, Miguel opened the door cautiously. He peeked inside. Not seeing Robert, he walked in. Even if Robert was pissed, he would stand behind the ticket. He went through a red light. Robert already had a warning the first time. The guys had given him shit for it when he went to his own station house before heading home. Ramirez especially warned he should go in on his knees, begging. His querido might be a little pissed, but would understand once he explained. He hoped. He listened and didn’t hear him.

  “Robert!” he called.

  “I’m in the work room!” Robert called.

  He didn’t sound pissed. Miguel walked toward the workroom. Reaching the door, he spoke before Robert could.

  “Querido, I want you safe. Speeding through red lights won’t keep you safe. I warned you the first time. Just pay the ticket and no more going through red lights. I love—” Miguel stopped speaking, staring at the vision before him.

  Robert was leaning against the wall. His bare chest glistened. His abs looked lickable. Robert rocked forward on his heels. Miguel’s gaze dropped to the chaps framing his naked cock. He moaned, licking his lips.

  “Like what you see, Papi?” Robert asked.

  Miguel jerked his gaze to Robert’s. Rich blue eyes flashed with wicked intent. Miguel nodded, unable to speak. Robert pushed his cowboy hat back with a finger. He put his fingers in the loops on the side of the chaps. Miguel swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. When he had mentioned his fantasy of doing it with a cowboy, he never expected Robert to live it out.

  “Ah, querido, you look sexy.” Miguel’s voice was hoarse.

  “This is what you were going to get when you got home. That and a blow job to blow your mind.”

  He moaned. It took a moment for it what Robert had said to register.

  “Were, querido?”

  “Before the ticket.” Robert flashed his teeth.

  Miguel frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. Robert mimicked him.

  “Querido—”

  “Shut up. Instead, you get to suck me, and then I will fuck you, hard,” Robert said.

  Miguel glared at him. Robert grinned, pumping his cock. Miguel’s mouth watered.

  “Come and get it, papá de miel,” Robert growled.

  Miguel walked over to him and sank to his knees. He gripped Robert’s cock, looking up at him.

  “You’ll suck me next, and then I will fuck you as I lecture you about red lights,” Miguel warned.

  “Of course you’ll do me next. If you can remember to lecture me when you fuck me, then we’re not doing it right. I know running a red light is stupid. But I can’t be too sorry. A detour and a red light brought me you. The first time and today. I won’t be running any more lights. I’ve got all I need right here.” Robert smiled.

  Miguel chuckled. Robert joined him. He sucked in Robert’s cock, moaning at his taste. Robert gripped Miguel’s hair. Miguel couldn’t disagree with him. A detour and a red light was what started their affair. It was what gave them a chance to find forever.

  Family comes in all shapes and sizes. Some by blood and others you choose to be your family. To all my family, the ones by blood and those I chose, thanks for being there. Without you I would not be who I am.

  Chapter One

  BERNARD JENKINS took a deep breath at the sound of the front door opening, then closing.

  How is he going to smell?

  “Hey, kid. You shouldn’t leave the door unlocked.” Tomas Rodriguez’s deep voice came from behind him.

  “I’m not a kid. I unlocked the door when you called to say you were on your way here.” The familiar refrain was always his reply to Tomas’s admonishment.

  Bernie stirred the stew, then set down the spoon and turned to face him. He bit his lip to stifle a moan. Tomas was bent over, looking in the fridge. His dusty jeans perfectly hugged his round ass. From the state of his clothing, Bernie knew he had come straight from a job, which meant he would smell like a mixture of sweat, musk, and all man. Tomas straightened, holding a bottle of water. He opened it with long, thick, blunt fingers.

  How would they feel against my skin?

  Tomas leaned his head back as he drank deeply from the bottle. The buff, well-defined muscles of his arms stood
out as he held his drink. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Lowering his head, Tomas rolled his neck. His deliciously colored warm butterscotch skin tone had a light coating of sweat. He removed the band holding his hair. The slightly curling, inky-black waves fell down, framing his face. The sharp cheekbones, full nose, and hard, dimpled jaw came together to make him very handsome. Dark, smoky-brown eyes met Bernie’s as Tomas smiled that infuriating smile that was a mixture of confidence and arrogance. Bernie wanted to kiss that wide mouth with its fuller bottom lip. As soon as it formed, Bernie pushed the thought away. Tomas walked toward him in long-legged, confident strides. Bernie returned his attention to the pot bubbling on the stove. Tomas leaned against the counter by the stove where Bernie was standing. His scent filled Bernie. It was the mixture he expected, with an underlayer of earth.

  “Still not safe to leave the door unlocked. Anyone can walk in.”

  “Don’t you need to go shower? The food will be ready shortly.” Bernie shifted, gritting his teeth.

  “Yep. I do. Smells good,” Tomas said.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Bernie saw Tomas move. Bernie glanced at him just in time to see Tomas lifting a bag from by the door. Since most of the time Tomas came directly from whatever landscaping job he was working on, he’d started bringing clean clothes with him and showering before they ate. During the winter months, Tomas hadn’t come to dinner dirty from a job as often. To himself, Bernie admitted, he had missed the earthy scents from Tomas. With the arrival of spring the month before, there had been an increase in Tomas’s work. Tomas had mentioned that was what usually happened and that they were extremely busy right up into fall. Bernie for one was very grateful for spring coming to Mapson, California. From now on he would equate the season arriving with Tomas smelling so very tempting. Tomas looked back at Bernie and winked, and then left, whistling.

  Bernie lowered the heat under the stew. He sat on the stool by the island, reaching for his glasses. At the last moment he stopped as he remembered that since his recent laser surgery, he didn’t wear them anymore. Tapping his finger on the table, he tried to regain his control. Months ago when he’d accepted the offer from his friend to rent the condo and moved in here, he had also agreed to Tomas’s arrangement to provide groceries if Bernie would cook for them both. He knew what it really was. Robert Berkus—his friend as well as the professor he worked for as a research and teacher’s assistant at Mapson University—had put Tomas up to it. Robert and Miguel, one of Tomas’s brothers, were a couple who lived together. Initially Robert worried because he knew Bernie didn’t have much money. Of course, Robert denied he had set up the situation with Tomas. Robert tried to convince Bernie that it wasn’t charity; it was helping out a poor, starving bachelor who didn’t know one end of a stove from another. Thinking of all Tomas’s well-developed muscles and his brawny frame, Bernie believed calling him “starving” was an overstatement.

  “Don’t go there, Bernie,” he whispered to himself.

  There had now been more than ten months of almost nightly dinners. The only times he didn’t cook for Tomas was on their weekly poker-game nights, the monthly Rodriguez family gathering, or his own weekly movie nights. At first, it hadn’t been a big problem feeding the pain-in-the-ass Tomas. The man was an aggressive, arrogant ass who liked to push Bernie to see what he would do. When he did push back, Tomas got a pleased grin that baffled Bernie. As time had gone by, he’d realized Tomas wasn’t as he seemed. It galled him to even admit it to himself, but Tomas was a good man. He was the first to offer help without anyone asking, and loyal and loving to his family and those he called friends. Since the initial arrangement with Tomas, Bernie’s situation had changed. Although he wasn’t rolling in funds, money wasn’t as much of an issue now with the stipend he had received. When he had mentioned it to Tomas, Tomas had adamantly stated they would go along as they had been. Bernie hadn’t put up much of a protest. He actually enjoyed Tomas’s company even though he couldn’t figure out how Tomas felt about him. That was what bugged Bernie the most. He wondered if Tomas saw him as some sort of project, and whether, if he wasn’t trying to help Bernie, Tomas might take him more seriously. Maybe he would see Bernie as more than a “kid,” as he called him.

  “What does it matter? He’s straight.”

  Liar. He’s bi. Bernie pounded his fist on the island counter. Tomas might be bi, but from what he had seen the last few months, the man probably only dated women. Whenever they went to grocery shop or for Sunday brunch with Robert and Miguel, Tomas’s brother, women seemed to be drawn to Tomas. They flirted with him outrageously, and Tomas flirted right back.

  “You need to get over this thing for Tomas,” Bernie said out loud.

  “Dinner ready?”

  Bernie jumped up, startled at Tomas’s voice. Tomas looked at him in question. Bernie blushed as he hurried to the stove. He tripped. Firm hands grabbed him before he could hit the ground. Warm, dark, smoky-brown eyes met his. Tomas straightened, setting Bernie on his feet.

  “What am I going to do with you, kid?” His tone was affectionate as he ruffled Bernie’s shaggy brown hair.

  Kiss me. Bernie stiffened and jerked away.

  “Sit. Let me share dinner.” He walked over to the stove.

  “I’ll set the table.”

  Bernie flushed. He had forgotten to do it. Tomas patted his back, then placed a plate on the counter next to him. He took napkins and utensils out of the drawer and went to set the table.

  Way to go, Bernie. Tripping over your feet. Real graceful. What a way to impress him.

  “I don’t want to impress him,” Bernie reminded himself.

  “You say something, kid?” Tomas asked.

  “Um… no,” Bernie replied.

  He finished serving the food and picked up the plates. Turning, he bumped into Tomas, losing his grip on the plates. Tomas’s hands went under his, steadying them.

  “Whoa.” His eyes narrowed. “You seem off. Are you okay, kid?”

  “I’m fine. Put these on the table,” he snapped, pushing the plates into Tomas’s hands.

  Tomas took them, studying Bernie. Turning away, Bernie opened the stove and got out the bread. Grabbing a knife and another plate to set the bread on, he walked over to the table, noting Tomas had already poured some of the iced tea Bernie had made earlier for him and gotten himself a glass of juice. Taking his seat across from Tomas, Bernie focused on his food.

  “This is good. Don’t remember it from the family recipe book,” Tomas said.

  “Not from there. It was something I made when I was a teenager.” Bernie shrugged.

  “You should show Mami the recipe.”

  Bernie didn’t respond. Tomas ate, not saying anything for a bit. Once they were done, Tomas took his plate and other dishes. He turned on the water in the sink. Bernie stood and went into the living room. He picked up his bag and laptop. Going back to the table, he set it down and booted up. Opening his bag, he pulled out some papers.

  “Don’t forget that you don’t need to cook tomorrow. Be ready to go at six, so we can avoid getting caught in the crowd.”

  “Huh. What?” Frowning, Bernie raised his head.

  Tomas continued to wash the dishes, answering as he did. “We’re going to Bacchus Sloan’s live-music night. From the way this has been talked about, and it being the first one, Robert and Miguel are getting there early to make sure no one takes our booth. I’ll be by at six for you. The rest of the guys are saying we might make it a weekly thing if it’s any good. Probably on Thursdays, so it won’t interfere with your movie night. Oh, yeah. Hector said to let you know Simon said he would be back next week, so count him in for movie night.”

  Bernie nodded as he remembered what Tomas was talking about. Ever since Bacchus Sloan announced they were adding a dance area with live music Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, people had been excited.

  “I’m not going.”

  Tomas stopped and looked back at him. “You are.”


  Bernie didn’t appreciate his tone. He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  Tomas wiped his hands on a dish towel and came toward him. He gripped the top of the chair closest to Bernie.

  “Don’t make me tell Mami on you.”

  “Like your mom gives a shit about me going to Bacchus Sloan.” Bernie rolled his eyes.

  “She does. Even though you don’t seem to like her or Papi, Mami cares that you work too hard and don’t relax enough. Hell, they both do.” Tomas’s face was serious.

  “It isn’t that I don’t like them. It’s too complicated to explain.”

  Guilt filled Bernie. He did keep Tomas’s parents at a distance. It wasn’t them personally, but what they represented. He refused to go into the reasons why. Pushing it away, he focused back on Tomas.

  “Okay. I’ll go,” he said.

  “I figured you would.” Tomas was smug.

  “Go away,” Bernie said.

  “I guess that means you’re not going to watch TV with me.” Tomas laughed as he straightened.

  “As if I ever do,” Bernie replied.

  “True. But I have faith that one day you will.” Tomas walked out of the room.

  It was always the same when Tomas came for dinner. They ate, Tomas asked him to watch TV with him, and Bernie refused because of work. He was already way ahead in his course assignments, and the work he did for Robert in the lab could sometimes wait. Yet he used them both interchangeably as excuses to keep Tomas at a distance. Tomas was always ragging on him that he needed to loosen up and not work so much. Tomas could go to his own house to watch television, but as Tomas had stated on numerous occasions, he stayed to watch hoping to entice Bernie to join him. If only Tomas knew how tempted Bernie was.