2016 Top Ten Gay Romance

by Snyder, J. M. ; Black, Becky; Creech, T. A.

  “I’m fine. Really.” Before he could think about it, Dane reached out and softly stroked Sayer’s cheek.

  When Sayer turned his face into Dane’s hand, something in Dane’s chest bloomed.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been so awful,” Sayer said.

  “You haven’t been awful.”

  “Yes, I have. I’ve been trying to keep my distance, because I’m so damned attracted to you, and I knew I’d have to leave.”

  “I said you didn’t have to leave. And you’re attracted to me?”

  “I’d have to be blind and stupid not to be.”

  Dane studied Sayer for a moment before reaching for his arm and tugging him closer until they were nose to nose. Dane framed Sayer’s face with his hands and kissed him.

  Sayer’s mouth felt just like Dane thought it would—soft, pliable, warm, and sweet. And it tasted of peppermint. Dane nibbled on Sayer’s lower lip before lightly brushing his tongue over it.

  “You’ve been eating the candy canes off the tree.”

  “Maybe a few.” Sayer gently eased back. “Come on, now. You need your rest.”

  “Maybe you should get me into bed.” Dane smiled devilishly.

  “You don’t look like you’re thinking about resting.”

  “That’s because I’m not. It’s only my ankle, Sayer. I’ve been waiting for this practically from the moment I first saw you.”

  Sayer pulled off Dane’s other boot before helping him to stand and hop into the bedroom.

  Once Dane was seated on the bed, Sayer began unbuttoning Dane’s shirt.

  “I can do that,” Dane said, pushing away Sayer’s fingers. “You take off yours.”

  “I’m not the injured person here.”

  “Come on.” Dane whined, and Sayer laughed.

  “Okay, okay.” When Sayer was down to his undershorts, he helped Dane get out of his jeans.

  “Climb up here with me,” Dane patted the bed, and Sayer lay down beside him, hand resting on Dane’s flat belly.

  “Did you know that your eyes are the most beautiful mixture of blue and green? I’ve never seen anything quite like them.”

  “If you’re trying to seduce me, you don’t have to bother.” Dane shifted and pressed his mouth to Sayer’s until Sayer’s lips parted, and Dane pushed his tongue inside.

  “So much for romance,” Sayer laughed before wrapping his leg over Dane’s hip and deepening the kiss.

  When Sayer ran his tongue over Dane’s, Dane’s cock began a steady throb in his undershorts. Sayer pressed it with the palm of his hand, and a groan slipped from Dane’s lips.

  “I want you so much.” Dane pressed kisses along Sayer’s jaw up to his ear. He smelled so good; Dane wanted to consume him. Sayer slipped his hands beneath Dane’s shorts, pushing them down and gripping Dane’s ass with hungry hands.

  “Love your ass.” Sayer captured Dane’s upper lip and sucked. “I’ve been watching it for days.”

  “Oh? By all means, take it.”

  Sayer made a sound like a growl, and attacked Dane’s mouth with fervor. Dane eased his shorts the rest of the way off. His ankle hurt, but the throb in it was nothing compared with the throb in his cock.

  “Can a person with a concussion have sex?” Sayer asked into the crook of Dane’s neck.

  “We’re about to find out.”

  Sayer leaned up on his elbow.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Think a lot of yourself, do you?”

  “Quit teasing. You know what I mean.”

  “I’m fine. Honestly.” Dane ran a hand down Dane’s side and touched Sayer’s cock through his shorts. “I haven’t had blurry vision or anything. If it makes you feel any better, the paramedics didn’t tell me not to have sex.”

  “You’re very persuasive…” Sayer said on a gasp.

  Dane pulled Sayer down for another long kiss.

  “Please. Take these off.” Dane tugged at the undershorts.

  Sayer slipped them off, revealing a fine, hard cock in a nest of curly, dark hair. Dane’s mouth watered.

  “Come here—let me taste you.”

  Sayer got to his knees, helping Dane to lean against some pillows. Straddling him, Sayer brought his cock to Dane’s lips. Dane delicately licked around the head before taking it into his mouth. He’d been with a couple men before Liz, and a few since. He knew what he was doing, and he wanted to bring Sayer apart with his mouth and hands.

  He licked and sucked, letting saliva pool in his mouth and bobbing his head while fondling Sayer’s tightening balls with his hand. Sayer breathed heavily, one hand gripping Dane’s shoulder, the other running through Dane’s hair.

  “I want to fuck you, Dane.”

  Dane pulled back.

  “Good, because I want you to fuck me.”

  Sayer’s eyes darkened.

  “How do you want to do this?”

  “I honestly don’t care, so long as we do it.”

  “Turn over onto your belly then. You have condoms and lube in this drawer?”

  Dane nodded, and Sayer sifted around until he found it.

  Sayer took his time opening Dane up, nibbling first one ass cheek and then the other as he fingered him.

  “I’m ready…please…” Dane wanted Sayer inside him more than he’d wanted anything in a long time.

  Sayer removed his fingers, and Dane heard him squirting out more lube and putting on the condom. When the head of Sayer’s cock pressed into Dane’s hole, Dane tilted his ass to meet it.

  It was like nothing Dane could possibly describe—feeling Sayer sinking into him. Stretching him out. Taking him.

  “Oh, fuck…” Dane grabbed hold of the pillow, gripping it tightly as Sayer slowly bottomed out and then began to ease backward again. Sayer’s body covered Dane’s like a blanket, heart beating fast against Danes’ back. Steadying himself on his elbows, Sayer began to thrust in earnest, and Dane couldn’t hold back his grunts of pleasure.

  “You feel…so damned good.” Sayer’s voice shook. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, loud and vulgar, adding to Dane’s rising excitement. He was on fire, and every time Sayer moaned, Dane felt it in his cock. Every stroke of Sayer’s cock against Dane’s prostate brought him that much closer to the edge.

  Sayer sprinkled kisses over Dane’s neck, each short, hard thrust bringing Dane apart little by little.

  Dane arched, nirvana suddenly washing over him.

  “Oh…fuck!”

  Sayer thrust harder, pushing Dane forward on the bed so that Dane’s sensitive cock dragged through his spunk.

  “Oh, shit, mother fucking shit, I’m coming…coming!” Sayer shuddered, and Dane tensed his inner muscles, milking the orgasm out of him.

  “Holy shit and Moses.” Sayer let out several heavy breaths before carefully pulling out and taking off the condom, tying it and tossing it in the trash before flopping onto the bed beside Dane. “That was…wow.”

  “It was, wasn’t it?” Dane grinned.

  “You better believe it was.” Sayer moved closer and kissed Dane softly on the mouth. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  Dane brought his hand up and caressed Sayer’s face.

  “Sayer.”

  “I know.” Sayer combed his fingers through Dane’s sweat-dampened hair. “So, now that you’ve had me, are you going to kick me out of your bed?”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Actually, I kind of have to stay here.” Sayer reached for the alarm from the table. “I’m supposed to wake you up every hour, remember?”

  “Is that really necessary?” Dane groaned.

  “Yes, it is.”

  * * * *

  Christmas morning dawned as every Christmas morning should—with the world coated in white.

  “It’s beautiful.” Sayer leaned against the back door, watching Boone romping through a foot of snow, barking at some crows.

  “You’re beautiful.” Dane came up behind Sayer and wrapped his a
rms around him.

  “Ah, so you can be romantic. Hey, is that a spatula, or are you just happy to see me?”

  “It’s a spatula. I’m frying eggs.”

  Sayer turned around and Dane laughed, pushing his erection into Sayer’s hip.

  “Jerk. Open your present,” Sayer said.

  “Open yours.” Dane nudged him again.

  “Seriously, open this.” Sayer laughed, moving toward the tree. He handed Dane a wrapped box. “I borrowed your wrapping paper. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course I don’t.” Dane wasn’t sure what Sayer could be giving him, considering his current financial situation. He tore off the paper and opened the box. Inside was a portrait of Dane sleeping in his chair, Boone’s head resting on his knee.

  “When did you paint this?”

  “I sketched it out the other night when you fell asleep in front of the fire and then painted it later. Do you like it?”

  “I love it.” It was a very good likeness, yet Dane thought Sayer had embellished a little. “You made me look better.”

  “No. That’s exactly how I see you.”

  Dane raised his eyes to meet Sayer’s, and Sayer kissed him, long and warm and full of promise.

  “Mika wants us to bring over some of your work tomorrow,” Dane said when they parted. “I hope you found some time to paint something else, because I’m not letting go of this.”

  “I have, don’t worry. But I was thinking maybe I could call my friend and ask her to mail my other stuff.”

  “That’s a great idea! So, you aren’t still thinking about skipping out on me?

  ““Do you really want me to stay?” Sayer looked steadily into Dane’s eyes.

  “Do you really have to ask?”

  Sayer smiled as Dane pulled him close, bodies aligning.

  “Merry Christmas, Sayer.”

  “Merry Christmas, Dane.”

  THE END

  Accidentally His by Shawn Lane

  Chapter 1

  Kirk Matheson tapped on his steering wheel in time to the music blaring from his car radio. He pulled into a parking space and turned off the engine. The time on the car digital clock read 6:18 A.M. He turned off the radio and got out of his car to wait for the bus with the rest of the passengers. A handful stood near the curb waiting for the commuter bus to arrive.

  He’d been riding the bus into work for a few months now, hoping to make his little compact car last for another year before he’d have to get a new one. It had hit one hundred thousand miles earlier that year. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ride the bus every day due to the demands of his job, but he managed two or three times a week if he didn’t have to travel with his boss.

  Kirk was starting to find his job somewhat tedious. He was only twenty-eight and had little time for any sort of social life. He hadn’t wanted to be someone’s assistant as a career, even a decent paid one.

  On the other hand, he wasn’t exactly ambitious enough to go back to school and learn what he needed to become somebody else’s boss. It was all so irritating.

  The bus had just crossed the railroad tracks up ahead and would be stopping in front of them in just a couple of minutes. He eyed the others gathered waiting. He’d become familiar enough with them to know where on the bus they usually chose to sit and so they were no threat to his own chosen seat. But there was a middle-aged woman he didn’t recognize, also waiting in the group.

  If she sat where Kirk liked to sit, he supposed he’d have to live with it and make sure he arrived earlier the next time. The bus stopped and he allowed the others to enter through the doors ahead of him, watching the woman and hoping she would bypass the second seat on the left.

  He tried not to exhale too loudly when she passed his coveted seat and kept going to the back of the bus. Stupid, really. But he did like that seat and looking at the back of the head of the rather nerdy-looking guy in the first seat. Kirk passed the guy, noticing he had his little notebook computer on his lap as usual. He slid into the seat behind him.

  Kirk didn’t know his nerd’s name. Or even when he had started to think of him as his. Hell, the dude never even glanced his way when Kirk got on the bus or walked by him. He just sat there, punching keys on the laptop, black ear buds stuck firmly into his little pale pink ears.

  Shaking his head, Kirk reached for his own distraction from the drive, his iPod. Eventually, he’d doze on the forty minute ride into work—should only take about thirty minutes but the bus was slow and made stops. First, he took a moment to stare at his nerd’s creamy neck. It was perfection, really. Not a flaw to be found, at least that Kirk could see. He kept his chocolate brown hair trimmed quite short in a straight line, revealing much of that peaches and cream skin.

  Kirk sighed. He only wished the guy didn’t grease back his hair. He had this feeling the nerd’s hair was a mass of curls if it hadn’t been straightened and slicked back. Before noticing this guy on the bus, Kirk didn’t even know guys still greased their hair.

  Moving his gaze reluctantly from the perfect neck, he glanced at his nerd’s ears. And really, he did feel bad about thinking of him as his nerd. But what was he supposed to call him? When he mentioned him to his best friend he referred to him as MN, my nerd. He wondered what the man would look like without the wire-rimmed glasses. Kirk didn’t even know his eye color.

  Kirk stuck his ear buds in his ears, turned on his iPod and looked out the window. It had started to rain in the ten minutes or so since the bus left the stop. Which made Kirk very glad his boss would be working from home today and he could take the bus in. Southern California freeways in a rainstorm were just a nightmare. Determined to put his crush out of his mind, at least for a little while, Kirk closed his eyes.

  He jolted awake. Not sure how long he’d dozed, he looked out the window. It was pouring now and the windows were fogged up, but it looked like they were off the freeway and on the surface streets now. About to turn away, Kirk froze. Wiping the fog away with the sleeve of his jacket, he could just make out a car next to the bus starting to fishtail.

  “Oh, shit,” he said out loud.

  “What?” the lady across the aisle from him asked.

  “Car—”

  The car, a Mustang he thought, slammed into his side of the bus with enough impact to cause his fellow passengers to scream. His teeth clacked together. It spun around clockwise, slid right back toward them, hitting another car, and going airborne as it went. Kirk’s heart slammed against his ribs. He should do something, he didn’t know what, but he watched in horror as the Mustang sailed into the side of the bus near the top. People were screaming and flying around him as the bus tilted and flipped over onto its side. He tried to grip the seat and then the world went dark.

  * * * *

  Kirk blinked open his eyes. His head hurt…like hell. He lifted a hand and felt his forehead. Wet. Blood. Still it didn’t seem so bad. He lay there for a moment, trying to get his bearings, listening to the moans and weeping of his fellow passengers.

  God.

  His back was twisted and he lay against the cracked window that had been on the opposite side when the bus was upright. He didn’t know what happened to the woman who had been sitting in that seat next to the window.

  Calm, Kirk. See if you can move all your limbs.

  He didn’t seem to be trapped under anything. He straightened his back and moved his legs. Everything seemed to work. His arms, too. Blowing out a breath, he struggled to sit up. Broken glass and twisted metal were everywhere. Rain poured inside the wrecked bus from the broken windows above him. But…he was alive. And wet.

  His nerd. Where was he? His head pounding and his heart pulsing hard, Kirk crawled to the next seat over. Bodies were littered around him. But he wasn’t sure if they were dead or injured. In the distance sirens wailed. Frustrated because he had no name to call out, he could only crawl in the general direction of where his nerd might have landed.

  Should he first check on the couple of people he saw on t
he way? He should, shouldn’t he? Not that he was a medic or anything.

  The woman who had been sitting in the seat across from him lay in a pile of debris. He stopped and stared down at her. Her neck was twisted at an angle it should not be. He reached for her wrist and attempted to feel a pulse.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, convinced she was probably dead. “I’m sorry.”

  Don’t panic, Kirk.

  He carefully maneuvered past her until he saw the beige pants he’d earlier noticed his nerd wearing. He’d found him. Now he only hoped—

  He was lying on his back, his legs a bit askew. One arm was tucked sort of underneath him and the other was above his head. Kirk crawled the last few inches to him and looked down. Sky blue eyes gazed at him from behind cracked glasses. Kirk removed the useless spectacles and stared into the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. Unfortunately, they were filled with pain and the look of confusion and terror in them made Kirk’s gut clench.

  “I’m here,” he heard himself say. He couldn’t believe he was going to finally learn his nerd’s name and it was like this. “Can you tell me what your name is?”

  The blue eyes blinked. “E-Elijah Cartwright.”

  “Hi Elijah. I’m Kirk Matheson.” He tried to think of what he’d seen in movies and television. “Do you know where you are?”

  “Bus.” Elijah’s gaze drifted up to the gash in Kirk’s head. “That looks painful.”

  “It is a bit.” Actually it hurt like hell. “You can see? Even without your glasses?”

  A ghost of a smile crossed Elijah’s full mouth. “This close, yes.”

  “Where are you hurt? Can you tell?”

  “Everywhere, I think. I feel like I’m a rag doll some child tossed about the room. What happened?”

  “A car spun out and crashed into us. Rolled us over.” Kirk bit his lip. “Some people are dead. The lady who was sitting across the aisle from me. There might be others.”

  “Did I hear sirens?” Elijah asked. His peaches and cream complexion had been marred by a cut and already a bluish-black mark formed on his cheek next to the cut. But Kirk’s nerd was breathtaking.