David and Matt had tried being together for a while before it became obvious they were better off as pals, and that was years ago. They were still close friends. So if anyone was going to notice David’s interest in another man, it would be Matt. David braced his hip against the counter. “I thought… maybe. That night at the restaurant? That was just business. Trace was doing reviews, but something was building.” He looked up sheepishly. “Pretty pathetic, huh? I’m too old to be falling for straight friends.”
“Or at least your straight friend’s cat.” Matt stepped to the counter to get some napkins and took a casual look out into the dining room at the poker table. David knew what he was seeing: Patrick was still flirting heavily, much to John and Jared’s amusement. While Trace wasn’t exactly encouraging it, he was obviously enjoying it. The corner of Matt’s mouth quirked as he watched Trace subtly flirt back. He turned back to David, eyes dancing. “You sure he’s totally straight?”
“No,” David said with a groan. “Actually at this point, I’m pretty sure he’s bi-curious.” And David wished he knew how that had happened.
Matt’s smile soon matched his eyes. “And would it be you who introduced him to the curious stage?” he drawled, wagging his eyebrows over mischievous eyes.
“Pervert,” David accused, but it had no heat. His bemusement returned as he glanced out at the table, seeing Trace’s forehead fall onto Patrick’s shoulder as he laughed. “I don’t think I did, but Trace has obviously decided to do a little exploring on his own.”
“You’ve got it bad, haven’t you?” Matt said quietly, shaking his head. He glanced back out to the poker game. “Hell. Trace is a notorious flirt; that’s known all over town. He’s dated most of the eligible women, and most of them would kill for another go at him.” Matt placed a friendly hand on David’s good shoulder as he sent ice clinking into his glass with the other. “So just think about this: He’s taken care of you. He’s moved in with you to do it. And I’ll bet he’s made a regular habit of doing up your pants. Patrick’s not a threat.”
David flushed at the accuracy of Matt’s assessment. He’d known Matt long enough to know that he sometimes saw things that others missed. “Why isn’t Patrick a threat?”
Matt’s smile was back as he picked up a fresh scotch bottle. “Because in between laughing and the negligible bit of flirting Trace is doing, he’s watching us. Correction. Watching you. Just like he has since I got here.”
“I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time, but….” David looked up at his friend with a rueful smile. “I’m telling this to the wrong person, aren’t I?”
Toasting David with a freshly poured glass, Matt winked and headed back out to the poker table, asking loudly what he’d missed and why the hell were some of his chips gone, leaving David to his conflicted thoughts.
Trace watched Matt come back to the table, and when David didn’t immediately follow, his brow creased. Was David hiding out in the kitchen? It wouldn’t take that long to set out dishes for dessert, not even one-armed. Maybe he needed some help and didn’t want to admit it in front of his other friends? After another long minute, he threw in his hand despite the three of a kind and slinked out of the chair, using his mostly empty glass as an excuse to escape to the kitchen.
He didn’t see Matt’s grin.
“David? You okay?” Trace asked as he stepped through the doorway into the kitchen.
“Yeah, just getting the cheesecake out to sit so we can cut it without hacking it up,” David said, holding up the bottle of scotch. “Refill? You’re not driving.”
“Please,” Trace answered, looking at David quizzically as he stopped next to him at the table. David’s blond hair was a little ruffled, the result of dragging his hands through it while playing his cards, and he looked very handsome in his pressed shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly and charcoal suit pants.
After watching a bit of scotch gurgle into the glass, Trace said, “Your friends are a hoot.”
“Hmmm.” David answered noncommittally. “I’m having a serious problem with one of them at the moment.” Without warning, he swung away from the counter, trapping Trace between his body and the cabinets.
Trace’s eyes widened as his ass bumped the counter and a little of the scotch in the glass sloshed over his fingers. “What kind of problem?” he asked, eyes flickering over David’s face. This was totally new behavior, in Trace’s experience, this slightly dominant turn—though he acknowledged he was finding it very appealing. And if he didn’t know better, Trace would have thought he was being maneuvered into a torrid kiss.
“I seem to have become a little intolerant.” David’s fingers brushed Trace’s hair back from his face. “Of anyone touching you.” Leaning forward, he pressed their bodies together. “But me,” he growled.
The tone of David’s voice, the heat of his proximity, and the press of his contoured body had Trace shivering before he could repress it, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from David’s flashing blue eyes. It registered with Trace that he was aroused again, just by those few words and the possessiveness implied. It made him reexamine his thoughts from when he’d been watching David and Matt pal around. Did he want this?
The ball of desire starting to roil in his gut answered his question. “A little intolerant?” he asked, one hand closing carefully on David’s elbow, since he still had the glass of scotch in the other. Yeah. Yeah, he wanted it. He wanted to pull David closer to feel the heat from his skin.
“Well, I’m not sure that you even want me to touch you, so I can’t be much more than that, can I?” David stroked Trace’s cheek with the side of one thumb. “Do you, Trace?” he rasped. “Do you want me to touch you?”
Trace was stunned. He was being seduced. Skillfully seduced. And he was loving it. Riveted by the magnetism pouring off David and the contrast of his soft touch, Trace slid one hand to David’s good shoulder, tipped his head to the side, and what the hell, why not? slowly lifted his mouth to press their lips together. He wanted to know what it felt like, that passion burning in David’s eyes. David moaned, tilting his head to fit their mouths together more firmly. His free hand slid down Trace’s side, fingers clutching at his hip.
“David, it’s your deal!” Matt yelled from the other room, his voice heavily laced with amusement. David and Trace pulled apart abruptly, turning their chins to look toward the doorway that had just enough angle to shield them from view.
Trace turned heated eyes back to David. “I do,” he said huskily before giving David a rakish smile. He sauntered back to the dining room, doing his best to hide the little bit of trembling in his hands and the large chunk of thundering in his pulse. He was more turned on than he would have believed possible from kissing a man. No, not just a man, he was almost sure it was from kissing David.
Trace retook his seat, setting his glass at his elbow, and inhaled long and slow, trying to settle his breathing as he listened to the game and the banter going on around him. He’d almost succeeded when David walked back into the dining room and to the table to lean over Trace’s shoulder. David slid his fingers into the long dark hair that fell over Trace’s shoulder and pulled it back from his neck as he lowered his lips to Trace’s ear.
“I’d probably be a bad host if I kicked everyone out, huh?” David whispered conspiratorially, running his lips down Trace’s exposed neck until Trace shivered in reaction as the unexpected heat and arousal bloomed again.
David was leaving no doubt with anyone in the room about how he felt about his houseguest.
Trace’s eyes fluttered shut for a few seconds as he fought for some composure before reopening them to shift to David, seeing the twinkle and what might just be a hint of promise in David’s eyes.
Patrick shook his head ruefully and tossed several chips at Matt, who just snickered. David sat back down in his seat, glaring at Matt with mock outrage. “Fucker!” he accused, planting a noisy kiss on Matt’s cheek and swiping the chips Patrick had just thrown at Matt.
“Hey,” Matt complained.
“I get a cut of any bet based on me.”
“Damn it. Shot down again,” Patrick muttered good-naturedly. “You better keep him happy, David, or I’ll steal him away,” he declared.
John and Jared actually chuckled, and John pointed at Trace, whose cheeks were flushing as he shuffled the cards. He couldn’t help it. Just the thought of feeling David’s lips on his neck again made him a little dizzy.
“You’ll try,” David shot back as he started dealing. But the cards went flying as Mabel thumped up on the table again.
“Whoa!” John exclaimed, barely rescuing his scotch glass in time.
“She can’t stay away from you, David,” Patrick said with a laugh as he started raking in the scattered chips.
“She’s certainly Trace’s cat,” Matt teased with an evil grin. “Probably feels the same way he does.”
Patrick, Jared, and John all turned expectant gazes on Trace, who cleared his throat and pressed his lips together, determined not to blush. “She might as well be David’s cat,” Trace muttered as Mabel settled down into David’s lap again, where she started fastidiously licking at David’s fingers. Trace gestured to her significantly.
Matt laughed. “Well, guys, David finally got some pussy.”
All the men booed and threw chips at Matt as they got the cards back together. Trace still noticed glances sent his way but understood now that he’d been accepted by David’s other friends. With a smile, he turned his eyes back to David, who had his cards in hand as he carefully rubbed Mabel’s back from where his right hand lay in the sling. It was easy to smile while watching him.
The rest of the night was just as amusing and a little bit more charged, infusing all the men with raucous humor and teasing. While Patrick dialed back the intensity of his flirting, it didn’t stop, and Trace realized it was just in the other man’s nature. So he enjoyed it and the other guys’ ribbing, especially when he slanted his own glances David’s way.
“You’re not as bad a player as you claimed, Trace,” Jared said as they cleaned up. Trace sketched a bow, holding a tumbler of melting ice in each hand.
“Oh, I definitely expect you back in the game,” Matt said with a chortle as he gathered his winnings. “We get the added benefit of David being too distracted to play as well as usual.”
Trace’s eyes widened a little, and he glanced to the kitchen, where David was directing Jared on putting the remains of dinner away and keeping Mabel away from the food.
“Oh, don’t give me that innocent look,” Matt said. “I watched you flirt with him all night after his little show of possessiveness. You did it quietly, but it was still there.”
Pausing next to Matt, Trace felt a moment of nerves. He wasn’t sure what he was getting into, only that it was exciting and new and felt different from anything he’d done before. He’d already acknowledged to himself that he didn’t know if it was because he was such close friends with David already and the growing attraction was layering over that, or if it was just that David was a man. It worried Trace a little that he might be that shallow.
“Quit thinking so hard,” Matt said quietly. Trace blinked and focused on him. Matt just smiled. “You’re gonna be fine. He already loves you.”
“Of course he does. We’re best friends,” Trace answered automatically.
Matt’s eyes twinkled. “Of course,” he replied tolerantly as he tucked the wad of bills into his wallet. “Hey, David!” he called out louder. “You need to make sure you have Trace here next time so I can win again!”
“That’s the only way you’ll ever win,” David called back after Matt’s taunt.
Matt was chuckling as he walked through the kitchen door, Trace following along. “I look forward to winning a lot, then,” Matt teased. He gave David a careful hug and whistled as he walked out the door with Jared, the designated driver, who waved at Trace and David as he left.
Trace, glasses still in hand, was still staring after Matt as the man jogged down the steps. If Matt thought he’d be winning a lot, that meant he expected Trace would be around. Would he?
He was a little thrown by the immediate affirmative answer that leaped to mind. Not because of the fun to be had playing poker and hanging out, but because of the shiver he remembered feeling when David had cornered him in the kitchen, and later when he had kissed his neck in full view of the others. Trace felt a spike of desire in his groin.
Christ. If he felt like this around a woman, he’d be in the dining room, pushing her clothes out of the way for a hot fuck on the table right now, amongst the cards and chips, followed by a night of leisurely teasing and more pleasure in his bed.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” David asked, stepping up to Trace’s side, his chest brushing Trace’s arm. Reaching out, he took one of the glasses but didn’t step away.
Trace was honest. “You,” he said with a smile.
David felt his skin tingle as goose bumps spread across his skin. Raising his healing arm, he stroked his thumb over Trace’s cheek. He wanted Trace with a passion that he hadn’t experienced in years. Placing his glass on the counter, he lifted the other from Trace’s hands, pulling the slightly taller man to him once their hands were free. “You need to tell me what you want,” he whispered, lifting Trace’s hair and stroking his neck. “I don’t want to read something into this that you aren’t offering.”
Trace’s eyes fluttered half-shut as David’s soft touches heated him. “I don’t know what I want, David,” he admitted. “But it feels good. I don’t want it to stop. Can’t we just… see what happens?”
Pulling Trace even closer, until he was pressed up against his chest, David buried his face under the curtain of dark hair, his lips moving against Trace’s neck as he talked. “Anything you want. Slow and easy. We’ll see what happens.” David licked from the hollow of Trace’s collarbone to the sweet patch behind his ear. “God, you smell so good. I want to lick you all over.” He realized his words were awfully provocative for a man who’d just promised slow, but it was the truth. Sucking softly at the tender patch of skin, he hooked Trace by his belt loop and pulled their hips together.
Purring deep in his chest, Trace burrowed close as he twined his arms around David’s neck and tilted his head to the side in encouragement. “Slow and easy,” he echoed, voice low. After another soft purr, he said, “You’re seducing me, aren’t you?”
David chuckled, a deep masculine sound that curled around low on their bodies and squeezed. “I was thinking that you were seducing me.” Kissing and nipping at the offered neck, he rocked their lower bodies together in a rhythmic wave.
Trace gasped softly and lifted his hips against David’s. “No, must be you. I’m not sure where I’d even start. Does what works on a woman work on you?” He shifted one arm to curl it around David’s neck.
Stepping backward, David’s hand trailed down to clasp Trace’s, pulling him along as he led him toward the bedroom. “Let’s find out.”
Both Trace’s brows raised in smiling disbelief. “I wouldn’t be pulling you down the hall,” he said with a laugh.
“You wouldn’t?” David asked, his voice husky as he gathered Trace close again and leaned back against the wall in the hallway. “Then show me what you’d do.”
Eyes flashing in interest, Trace took a steadying breath and stepped right up against David, only his hands on David’s chest between them. He started to unbutton David’s shirt as he first rubbed their cheeks against each other and then moved just enough for his lips to hover over David’s, teasing. Trace moved his head slowly, almost sliding their lips together as he kept unbuttoning, knuckles purposely dragging downward along the warm skin of David’s chest.
David moaned, the moist heat from his mouth mixing with Trace’s. Nudging his chin up just a fraction, Trace played with the magnetic force between their lips, hovering so close but not quite touching. His nipples hardened to aching points as Trace dragged his shirt apart.
&nbs
p; Trace hummed quietly as he slid one hand inside David’s shirt to rub over smooth, warm skin until his palm covered one of those nipples. “Answers that question,” he breathed, moving his palm in a slow circle.
“What question?” David gasped as Trace’s fingers grazed the hypersensitive nipple. He’d already forgotten what he’d asked Trace to do.
Trace chuckled lowly. “My, my,” he drawled. “Isn’t that interesting.” He shifted his face slightly to the side, teasing his lips along David’s cheekbone.
David’s eyes drifted closed as he lost himself in the feel of Trace’s hands deliberately on his body. Trace. My friend. Trace. My lover. David’s cock throbbed in his jeans, but uncharacteristically, he felt no need to rush. There was no hurry. Whatever was happening between them, they’d only have these moments once, and David felt nothing but anticipation and an eagerness to enjoy every moment. “More,” he whispered harshly. “Touch me.”
The warmth pouring off David’s skin kept Trace close, and he let his eyes fall closed. The hall was mostly dark anyway. But he could feel. Trace lifted a second hand and slid it inside David’s shirt as well, but made no attempt to pull the shirt free of David’s pants or push it off his shoulders. This was exploring, and Trace was more than content to do exactly what David asked for and no more. It was powerful, knowing that it was his touch that aroused David.
His lips skipped softly along David’s jaw while his hair tumbled forward to shield their faces. Their bodies were a bare inch apart. Trace could feel the quiet urge to push closer but ignored it. Just see how it goes. He dragged his fingertips across the tightened nubs, reveling in the rush he felt when David shivered under his hands.
David groaned, the muscles in his chest quivering. Swallowing, he rubbed their cheeks together, his nose nudging at Trace, begging for a kiss. Giving in to a desire he didn’t know he had, Trace trailed one of his hands up David’s chest and buried it in his hair while lifting his mouth to David’s. It was soft and slow, first just their lips pressed together, before Trace dared to dart out his tongue to ever-so-slightly run along David’s lower lip. David’s tongue met his, tempting it into his mouth and sucking at it playfully. David’s hands had been resting innocently at Trace’s waist; now they ran up his sides and around his back to knead at the tight muscles under the soft shirt.
Dreamspinner Press Year Three Greatest Hits Page 122