by KC Burn
“No, not an escort. Just a multiday companion-slash-date. The money’s good, but I’m not interested in the escort type of one-on-one interaction.”
Interaction. How very sanitized. Of course, he was never having sex again, so escort was right out as a career choice. His business degree was practically in hand, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around any specific career related to that. Most of the fields were too staid and stuffy for him. He’d been in a vicious sort of limbo since the accident and hadn’t figured a way out yet.
“Ah, I should have known. Jeremy’s such an ass, there’s no way he could have gotten someone as hot as you.”
Amazingly, Raven’s cheeks heated. He’d gotten over blushing by his second day on set, but the sincere compliment got to him. Not that there was much use in his looks anymore.
“Thanks.” He certainly wasn’t going to contradict Mick’s statement. Jeremy was an ass. “Mind you, I’m not sure I’d do this again. It’s not what I expected.” Which was a total understatement
“What are you going to do with yourself, then? You’re still young.”
Raven tilted his head. “What are you, a guidance counselor?”
Mick laughed. “Close. I’m a human resources manager.”
“Honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m finishing up an undergrad business degree, but those are as common as dirt, and I don’t think I could go work in some office. Worry about an HR manager.” Raven directed a wink at Mick, who didn’t appear to take any offense.
“There’s no denying you’re perhaps a bit colorful for a traditional business, but it shouldn’t prevent you from getting a job if that’s what you want. More important, though, is whether it’s something you want to do. Nothing stopping you from coming up with a business of your own. Something that would make you happy.”
Raven flicked his cigarette and watched the ash flutter to the ground. He’d thought there’d be so much time to make that kind of decision. He thought he’d be making movies long enough to build a decent nest egg, take his time to consider what he wanted to do, maybe even go to grad school. Hell, maybe even take over Idyll Fling. But even if he had the cash, there was no way the current owner, Stefan, would be ready to retire or sell out this soon. He’d tried directing Idyll Fling movies, but that hadn’t been enjoyable mostly because they reminded him too much of what he’d lost and what he’d never have again.
What the fuck was he going to do with himself? Already the twin devils of boredom and loneliness were making his life hell, especially now that the residual pain had mostly faded.
Despite the unwelcome reminder that he was unemployed after this weekend and had zero job prospects, Raven relaxed even further. It had been a long time since he’d had just a normal conversation with a guy that wasn’t going to lead to sex and didn’t appear to involve any judgment about his life. It was one of the reasons he didn’t interact with too many people outside the business.
They stood in comfortable silence, listening to the katydids in the humid evening, smoke from Raven’s lit cigarette curling up toward the yellowish lamplight.
Then came that inevitable moment. The cigarette had burned down. It was time.
“I guess I should be getting back. I’m still on the clock.” Raven grinned ruefully at his new acquaintance. “I’ll see you around.”
Mick nodded. “I’ll bring my hubby over to introduce you. He’ll want an autograph.”
Raven smiled. “Sure thing. Be glad to meet him.” If Mick had needed an eye-candy date, Raven would have done that for free.
The night became slightly more oppressive as Raven forced his feet back toward the ballroom.
Chapter TWO
NUMBER 305. The best number in the entire world right now, since it meant the first day with Jeremy was done. Raven dug in his sporran for his room key, ready to open the door and kiss the generic beige carpet.
Thankfully, the opening event ended at a reasonable hour, because the next day had such an early start for everyone. Raven was only obligated to attend the scheduled events that Jeremy wanted to attend; for any extra socializing, Jeremy was on his own. Saturday’s scheduled events included excursions to either the beach or the theme parks—Jeremy had chosen the beach—and later that evening, a “high school revival” dance. Saturday was going to be a crap day, what with the long drive to the beach, then several hours of “beach activities,” whatever that meant. There was a chunk of time between the beach and the dance listed in the program as free time and dinner on their own, and Raven was already counting down the hours. There wasn’t a damn thing Jeremy could do or say to convince Raven to accompany him to dinner. Raven was going to spend every unscheduled minute luxuriating in his room, and he was so fucking glad he’d insisted on having his own room. Having to drive back to his condo each night would be pure fucking hell.
With a big smile, he pushed open the door and let it swing shut behind him while he fumbled for the light switch. Then he blinked, and his smile fell away. Sweat popped up on his skin. The extreme heat in his refuge wasn’t a carryover from the third beer or from the unpleasant company but because his thermostat was set on the seldom-used hellfire setting.
He strode over to the beat-up old air-conditioning unit. Which still had a dial. Was the entire hotel like this or was he just lucky? Studying the unit, he didn’t see any reason why it shouldn’t be working. All the settings were correct, and yet it was blowing hot air against his legs. A swift thump with his fist didn’t help, either. Fuck.
The hotel better be able to fix this or give him a new room.
An hour later, Raven stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He used another towel to rub at his hair, before tossing it over the back of a chair. His hair was wet enough that water trickled down his bare chest, but he ignored the sensation. After all, his room was still as hot as the surface of the sun. No way was he starting up a hair dryer now.
Although he wasn’t too keen on letting in mosquitos or palmetto bugs, the muggy night had to be cooler than this. Closer inspection of the window revealed he’d need tools of some kind to open the damned thing.
The cool shower had helped, but if the hotel didn’t send someone to fix this soon, he was going to have to have another one, in the midst of a fucking mental meltdown.
A loud knock had Raven running for the door, but he stopped himself from just flinging it open, in case it was Jeremy on the other side and not the eagerly awaited A/C repair guy.
“Yes?” He wasn’t about to trust the funhouse lens of the peephole.
“You called about a faulty A/C unit?”
Oh. Raven shivered slightly. No way did that low, rumbly voice belong to Jeremy. Of course, there was no way the repairman could possibly live up to a voice that sexy. He could make a fucking fortune as a voice-over actor, though.
“Hello?”
Raven shook himself. “Sorry, yes, I did.” After quickly unlocking the door, Raven opened it.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, in shock, before he moved out of the way, but it couldn’t have been as long as it felt.
The repairman was every bit as sexy as the voice promised. Clean cut, dark brown hair, warm cognac eyes, a slight hint of freckles across caramel skin. He was a little older than Raven, a little shorter than Raven, and built like a construction worker. A calendar-worthy construction worker.
“Hi there. I’m Caleb Sanderson, and yes, you do have a problem with your unit.” Caleb, who didn’t emphasize the word “unit” to add any innuendo, flashed him a white smile that revealed his parents could afford orthodontia.
“Uh, hi. Please say you can fix the—” With some effort, he managed to avoid saying “unit.” “Please fix it.”
Caleb nodded and walked over to the unit… fuck…. Raven wasn’t able to avoid adding an innuendo-laden emphasis on the word even in his own mind.
When Caleb crouched down, faded denim stretched across an ass so fine Raven had to bite back a whimper. Bloo
d rushed to his groin, and he grabbed the towel from the chair to hide his burgeoning erection. Where was his fucking leather sporran when he needed it?
His pulse picked up and his stomach fluttered. He wasn’t sure if he was more turned on or freaked out, because he hadn’t been sexually aroused in the presence of another man since his accident.
Caleb glanced back at him and smiled, throwing Raven into a panic.
“Uh. Uh. I’ll be back in a minute.” Raven grabbed a pair of jeans from his suitcase and fled to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him like Caleb was chasing him.
This time, the adrenaline rush had a different source than his escape from Jeremy. God. He whipped off the towel and yanked on his jeans with zero grace. His foot got caught and he stumbled, but he caught himself before he knocked his head against the counter.
Raven took a deep, shuddery breath before pulling his jeans all the way up, tucking away his still-plumped, unruly bastard of a dick. As usual, he took care not to focus on the thick, shiny scars scattered across his hips and groin, scars that were still red and angry looking even after a year.
He ran his hands through his damp hair, hoping to tame it a bit, and exited. The difference was already palpable. A chilly breeze skated over his damp skin, and his nipples stood at attention. Why hadn’t he grabbed a T-shirt as well?
“Your unit is all fixed up.” Caleb brushed his hands off on his thighs, drawing Raven’s gaze involuntarily to his fly, but Raven forced it away again, embarrassed and flustered in a way he shouldn’t be, no matter how sexy he found a man. Or maybe that was the problem. Accepting his eternity of sexlessness had been a lot easier when he didn’t have a visceral reaction to anyone. Fuck. He didn’t even know if Caleb was gay.
“Uh, thank you. That was quick.”
“I’m just that good,” Caleb said, again with words that could so easily be a double entendre, but Caleb’s delivery was completely innocent. Or straight. Caleb nodded and headed toward the door, leaving a faint whiff of soap and sweat in his wake.
In another moment, the door banged shut behind Caleb, and Raven slumped down on the bed.
For the first time in his life, he’d been smack in the middle of a standard porn plot, similar to ones he’d acted in several times, and instead of coming on to Caleb, he’d behaved like a nervous virgin with no social skills. Hell, he’d been more pathetic than he’d been back when he was a nervous virgin, for fuck’s sake. As much as he thought maybe it was for the best, he couldn’t convince his cock that letting Caleb go without even trying to exchange phone numbers was a good idea. He wanted Caleb back, badly. Wanted to find out how he tasted. Wanted to know the sounds he made when he got his cock sucked.
The irony of the situation was not lost on him.
CALEB SANDERSON slumped against the wall, heart pounding. By some stroke of luck, he kept a firm grip on his toolbox, because the last thing he needed was for the occupant of room 305 to come out, wondering what the commotion was.
Holy shit, that never happened. Not to him.
Since his company had a contract for a number of resorts and businesses in the area, he’d been to the hotel more than once. After all, the A/C units were quite elderly, and Caleb suspected the resort was planning to replace them all soon. Until then, though, Caleb was a regular fixture.
He’d been in a number of hotel rooms, most of them empty. When they weren’t, though, he’d seen several things he couldn’t unsee. Sometimes, it was hard to believe anyone would be okay letting complete strangers see them naked, live and in person. He’d even had a few women try to hit on him. But never, not once, had he wanted to stay longer than it took to get the job done. Caleb took one look at 305 and a billion questions leaped to the tip of his tongue. Dark hair with red streaks, along with wide blue eyes and creamy skin made the man look like an anime character.
But the rest of him induced an overwhelming desire to forgo talking because he wanted to use his tongue for more carnal ventures. He’d start at the guy’s prominent collarbone, then head down between the shadows of a six-pack to the hint of a black treasure trail. Desire had swept over Caleb so fast it left him light-headed and buzzed. The fates had been laughing when they saw fit to have him answer the call of a man so stunning he had to be a model. Or maybe an up-and-coming actor.
So many desires and ideas crowded Caleb’s mind it was a wonder he’d been able to speak at all. Amazingly, he hadn’t sounded like a complete dork; he’d even managed confident. Even more amazingly, he hadn’t said anything inappropriate, no matter how much he’d wanted to. After all, Caleb was nothing but the epitome of control, despite 305 stretching that self-control to the limit. But he’d reined in his baser impulses. Last thing he needed was a sexual harassment complaint from one of the hotel patrons. Not only could that fuck up the comfortable, steady work the resort provided, it could get him in serious trouble.
The effort to keep his desire bottled up and interact as a normal human being instead of a slavering beast in the grips of a monstrous lust left Caleb sweating and panting as if he’d run a whole marathon in the past few minutes. With an erection to rival any other. Thank the saints for new jeans and boxer briefs that fit properly.
His cheeks heated and he glanced down at his standard “uniform” of jeans and polo shirt. The outfit didn’t exactly make him look like a stud. With a rueful chuckle, he adjusted his burgeoning erection. Even if 305 was gay, there was no way he’d go for some blue-collar grunt. Especially one who was clearly older. Caleb was only thirty-two, but if 305 was a day over twenty-one, Caleb would shit rainbows. Caleb did all right for himself, got laid regularly, if not as often as he’d like. A guy that hot wouldn’t have the time of day for Caleb, but he sure as shit would be starring in Caleb’s fantasies during his evening shower, and likely for the next several days. 305, hot water, shower gel, and Caleb’s right hand might be the best date he’d had in while.
An obnoxious buzz sounded from his pocket, and he grabbed his phone and silenced it, heart rate picking up slightly as he waited, holding his breath, not sure if he wanted 305 to open the door or not.
Then he shook himself. If he was in a hotel room and heard someone’s phone in the hall, he sure as shit wouldn’t bother opening the door. Stupid.
Besides, if 305 did open the door, how would Caleb explain loitering outside? He headed toward the elevator as silently as possible, even as he acknowledged he was being ridiculous.
As the elevator doors opened, he checked the text that had startled him. Instead of hitting Lobby, he pressed twelve. Another A/C issue. Date night with his hand would have to wait a little longer, but at least this issue had been reported before he’d left the building. Being on call on the weekend sucked, especially during heat waves, but it was his turn, and it wasn’t as though he had a boyfriend or even a prospective boyfriend to spend the weekend with.
With a sigh of relief, an older man opened the door of 1218, his wife seated on the couch, watching television. This should be quick and painless. And if he spent the whole time wondering where 305 called home, and whether he had a boyfriend to go home to after his vacation, well, no one else had to know.
Chapter THREE
CALEB PULLED his truck up by the service entrance for the resort and parked. “Thanks for helping out today. I know Saturday mornings aren’t your thing.”
Jaime Escobar, his cousin and best friend, glanced at him blearily over his gallon of latte. “No worries. I can sleep when I’m dead.”
“I’m really sorry.” Caleb wouldn’t feel bad if Jaime was simply hungover, but he was an EMT and he’d been working the overnight shift; Caleb’s call this morning had caught him just as he was getting home. Which he hadn’t let Caleb know until he’d swung by to pick him up. “I’d forgotten you were working nights this week.”
He grimaced. Considering how long his dry spell had been, there’d been a tiny malicious angel on his shoulder that wanted to interrupt Jaime’s morning cuddle with whatever twink had warmed his bed t
he previous night. Caleb had certainly had a couple of good orgasms courtesy of the memory of 305, but he was still jealous of Jaime’s constant revolving door of bed partners. Well, maybe not jealous, exactly, but Jaime never seemed to lack for companionship, while Caleb had trouble finding someone he’d hear from—or want to hear from—after the deed was done. Instead, he’d interrupted Jaime as he was getting ready for bed after a week of dealing with heat-stroke victims and the aftermath of violence resulting from tempers frayed in the extreme heat.
Jaime laughed and took a huge mouthful of coffee, Caleb’s first installment on this favor. “Hey, I get that a full hotel is going to spend top dollar for weekend calls. And this favor means you’re my bitch the next time I want it.”
Caleb rolled his eyes. Knowing Jaime, that could mean just about anything, but karmic justice was kicking his ass in a very immediate manner. Jealousy wasn’t a pretty emotion and certainly wasn’t very Christian. Caleb wasn’t very Christian either, at least not as much as his family would like, but he did try to live according to the more altruistic and caring tenets of the faith.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
Opening the doors let the oppressive heat and humidity into the truck, and Caleb barely suppressed a groan. He’d been born and raised in Florida, and his livelihood depended on those desperate to escape the worst of Florida’s climate, but shit, he really hated this type of weather. He knew a number of people flocked to the state during the snowy winter weather, hence the term “snow birds,” but was there an opposite? Summer birds who were Florida and Georgia natives making their way north during the summer? That would be a dream, although he’d heard the northern states could be just as sweltering. Maybe Alaska?
Then again, he didn’t think he could leave his family for months at a time to live in Alaska. Especially since his business ran him ragged in the summer. Giving up that income would mean he’d have to hitchhike to Alaska.