A Bluewater Bay Collection

by Witt, L. A.

  I nearly groaned at the thought of redoing all the complex rigging we’d set up and perfected in Soundstage Two. All that work, and now we’d have to do it all over again. Awesome.

  I pushed my beer bottle away. “So what do you do?” I winced. “Christ. I mean, besides firefighting. That’s . . . volunteer, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it’s volunteer. The rest of the time, I own a garage near the west end of town.”

  “You’re a mechanic, then?”

  “I am.” He held up his hands. “Always did love working with these.” The subtle gleam in his eyes told me the double meaning was not in my imagination.

  “Oh. I . . .” I laughed nervously and help up my own hand. “Me too. That’s why I’m a grip.” So many double entendres. Fuck. I quickly added, “I like building stuff, I mean. Setting up rigging. That . . . that kind of thing.” I should’ve just let the double entendre stand, because trying to talk it away only made me sound like an even bigger idiot.

  “Neither of us has to work in a cubicle,” he said. “Guess we’re doing all right.”

  “Yeah.” I smiled. “I guess so.”

  He held my gaze for a second, then pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “Anyway, I’m going to go grab a beer.” Nodding toward the bottle in front of me, he added, “You want another?”

  I glanced at the empty bottle. Did I need any more alcohol tonight? Then I met his intense blue-eyed gaze again.

  “Yeah.” I moistened my lips. “Please.”

  “Be right back.”

  He headed up to the bar, and I exhaled. I wasn’t relieved per se, but admittedly, I was glad I had a moment to collect myself. If I’d been tripping over my feet yesterday around that hot firefighter, I was straight up losing it tonight now that I knew he was gay and into me. It really had been too long, hadn’t it? A year and some change since I’d slept with anyone, six since I’d been with someone new, and suddenly I was a stumbling, fumbling teenager who couldn’t remember how to say, Let’s get out of here and go fuck.

  Goose bumps prickled along the length of my spine. From here, I could see Aaron at the bar, leaning over his forearms and waiting for our drinks. What a view. I’d always loved the way a man’s ass looked in a good pair of jeans, and Aaron’s was no exception, especially when he cocked his hip like that. The simple black leather belt, the outline of his wallet in his back pocket, the military-style boots—it all should’ve been perfectly mundane and normal, but it somehow added to the picture of the man I was determined to get into bed tonight. Assuming, of course, I didn’t put my foot in my mouth before I had a chance to put his dick in it.

  The bartender handed him a couple of longnecks, and Aaron headed back this way.

  Okay. Here we go. Get it together, Shane. Have a beer and see where the night goes.

  I’ve got this.

  I’ve—

  Aaron didn’t sit across from me this time. No, he set our drinks on the table and slid right into the bench beside me. I scooted over without hesitation, and the next thing I knew, the man I’d been fantasizing about since yesterday was right beside me, arm slung over the back of the bench behind my shoulders.

  Oh God, he was direct.

  And that turned me on. Made me nervous as fuck—what in the world am I doing?—but turned me on like whoa.

  I leaned back enough to let my shoulders touch his arm. That brought another grin to his lips.

  Then he turned his head and went for his beer, and literally nothing about watching a man take a drink had ever been sexy until now. Lips around the bottle. The bob of his Adam’s apple. The slight grimace as he put the bottle down. Jesus, even the way he tilted his head back fucked with me, making me wonder what it would be like to kiss up and down the front of his throat.

  Now I needed a drink.

  I picked up my own beer and took a swig, and as I swallowed it . . . yeah, he was watching me the same way.

  “So, how’d you get the gig at Wolf’s Landing?” he asked.

  You want to talk about work and all that shit when you’re sitting right here?

  I took a smaller sip and then a deep breath, trying to slow my pounding heart. We’d get out of here and down to business before too long. A little ice-breaking never hurt anyone, right?

  I met his gaze. What ice?

  “Um.” I cleared my throat for the hundredth time. “Like I said, worked on some films before. I kind of wanted to get out of LA anyway, and moving to television meant some steadier work.” Wow, you have the most gorgeous lips. “Some of my buddies were working on this show.” Is your mouth as talented as it looks? “They put in a good word for . . .” You had to lick them right then, didn’t you? Fuck. I shook myself and went for another swallow of beer to cool down. “So yeah. Fingers crossed the show keeps getting renewed.”

  He smiled, eyes flicking toward my mouth as if he were as fascinated with mine as I was with his. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem if it stays this popular.”

  “Let’s hope.” I tried to shift a little and get rid of some restless energy, but I was sitting so damn close to him, he’d be able to feel every squirm. If he’d still been a smoker, I would’ve smelled it, but all I caught was a faint, spicy cologne that screwed with my senses. Wow, he was close. It wouldn’t take much to bring him in for a kiss. A little twist, a little lean, and we’d—

  “So what about you?” The words tumbled out, one on top of the other. “I mean, how’d you end up in Bluewater Bay? Grow up here?”

  Aaron shook his head. He paused for a drink, fucking up my senses all over again because I was so enthralled with his mouth, jaw, neck . . .

  The clink of the bottle on the table made me jump, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t acknowledge it. “I moved here a few years ago. I lived in Ellensburg for a long time, over in Eastern Washington, but I lost my job, and right around that time, an old friend was retiring and said he’d sell me his garage.” He met my gaze and grinned. “And here I am.”

  “Here you are.” I really sounded like an idiot tonight, didn’t I? I drained my beer, wondering if they’d cheated me out of half a bottle or if I’d actually gone through it that fast. Great idea for a lightweight like me. Drink my nerves away. Smart. “So, another drink?” Maybe a Coke for me. Needed to slow the fuck down. I gestured at the bar. “This round’s on me. Whatever you’re in the mood for.”

  He locked eyes with me, and the thin smile put my pulse into overdrive. Leaning closer, he slid a hand over my leg. “Can I be perfectly honest with you, Shane?”

  I gulped, my whole body electrified from the heat of his palm through my jeans and his arm across my shoulders. Gay bar or not, we were out in public, but . . . “Uh, yeah. Please do.”

  “Okay, then.” His hand slid a little higher, and his gaze didn’t flick away from mine for even a second. “Truth is, I’ve been thinking about this since last night.”

  I swept my tongue across my lips, and only then did he break eye contact. My mouth had gone dry, but I managed. “Y-yeah. Me too.”

  He used the hand on my leg to pull himself a little closer, and my spine turned to liquid even before he whispered, “Maybe we should put the drinks off for another night.”

  “I’m . . .” Holy fuck. “I’m on board with that.”

  “Had a feeling you would be.”

  And then he kissed me.

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  Dry spell, be gone.

  The tip of his tongue teased my lips apart, and when it slid beneath my own tongue, I thought I was going to come unglued. Aaron curved his hand around the back of my neck, and the rest of the bar disappeared around us. His mouth was firm and demanding, promising all kinds of roughness when we got out of these clothes.

  I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and put a hand on his leg, as much for balance as a need to touch him. Somehow I didn’t melt and slide right off the bench into a puddle at his feet, but the night was still young, so I held on just in case.
r />   I broke the kiss and met his gaze. This was the guy I got to spend my night with? Oh yes. Fuck yes. I licked my lips. “Maybe we should find someplace that’s a little more private.” My pulse skyrocketed. The guy had just kissed me in the middle of a bar, and I was scared to proposition him?

  “I like that idea,” he said. “My place is about ten minutes down the road.”

  “Closer than mine.”

  “My place it is.” He paused. “Not a lot of parking though, so one car might be better.”

  “Yeah, good idea.” I gestured at my empty bottle. “I’ve also had a couple.”

  His eyes gleamed in the low light. “So you want to ride with me?”

  All I heard was ride and me, and I was nodding before I realized what he’d actually said. Oh well—I definitely had no business driving right now anyway. I wasn’t drunk, but I sure felt like it.

  Aaron kissed me once more, then slid out of the booth. I followed, pretending my legs were steadier than they were, and we headed outside.

  The bar had a parking lot around back. As we approached the first row of cars, he took a set of keys out of his pocket and pressed the button on the remote. Up ahead, the lights on a sleek red Camaro flashed.

  “Wow,” I said. “Nice car.”

  “What can I say?” As we got in, he added, “I like toys.”

  I didn’t get a chance to decide if there was a double meaning to that comment too, because the second we’d shut the doors, we picked up right where we’d left off. The center console dug into my side and kept me from getting as close to him as we’d been in the booth, but whatever—small price to pay to be able to kiss him like this. And even with the console, I was pretty sure I could lean over far enough to blow him.

  The thought made me even harder. After over a year without having a cock in my mouth, I was going to go down on him at some point tonight. Hell of a way to break a dry spell—sucking dick while Aaron’s smoky voice egged me on.

  I was about to reach for his zipper and end that dry spell right here in the parking lot, but Aaron broke the kiss and leaned down to kiss my neck. Oh fuck.

  Gripping the back of my neck with a rough, calloused hand, he kissed up my throat and under my jaw. His lips skated along the edge of my jaw, and I dug my fingers into his thigh, which drew a groan out of him.

  “Maybe we should’ve taken separate cars,” I said. “Don’t think we’re gonna make it out of the parking lot like this.”

  “Eh.” He kissed my neck again. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fucked in a car.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and moaned, not even sure if it was the comment, the mental image, the brush of his lips against my skin, or because he’d picked that moment to slide his hand over my crotch.

  “Haven’t been able to get you out of my head since yesterday.” His smoky rasp was hotter than it should have been, giving his voice a subtle growl that was sexy as fuck next to my ear. “And for the record”—he squeezed my dick enough to make me shiver—“you have not disappointed.”

  “L-likewise.” I slid my hand up to his groin. Oh, I wasn’t surprised he was packing, but feeling that very thick, very hard cock through his jeans just about turned me inside out. I kneaded through the layer of denim, and he pressed into my hand.

  “Your profile didn’t say if you’re a top or bottom,” he said.

  “Both.” I swallowed. “Vers. I . . .” Words. What were words? “Definitely both.”

  He groaned something I didn’t understand. I caught the tone, though, and it sounded an awful lot like fuck yes. The way he kissed my neck underscored that sentiment. I swore he was about to sink his teeth in; hoping he would, I tilted my head back.

  “I usually have a lot more control around men,” he half whispered, half moaned against my skin. “But with you . . .” He raised his head and finished the thought with a deep, hungry kiss.

  I couldn’t make sense of why someone would lose control around me, but whatever, because it was very, very mutual. “We need more space.” I raked my fingers through his hair. “Flat . . . flat surface.”

  “Uh-huh. We should really get back to my place,” he said in that low growl. “Before we end up getting busted for public indecency.”

  “Kind of seems worth it at this point.”

  He laughed and planted one last kiss on my lips before returning to his seat. As he turned the key, he said, “Put your seat belt on.”

  Yeah. I had a feeling I was going to need it.

  Chapter 4

  Aaron

  As we walked up to my front door, my keys jingled in my hand, and in an instant, Jack came thundering up to the door.

  I looked over my shoulder. “You, uh, don’t mind dogs, do you?”

  “No. Not at all.” Shane eyed the door. “Friendly dogs.”

  “Oh, he’s friendly.” I put the key in the lock. “So are the cats, but—” Jack whined on the other side of the door. Chuckling, I glanced at Shane again. “He just gets really excited.”

  “I could think of worse things.”

  “Me too. Watch out for that tail, though. He can leave a hell of a bruise.” I pushed open the door, and Jack nearly lost his mind like he always did when I came home. When he saw Shane, he started to jump on him, but I gave a quiet, “Jack,” and he remembered himself. Dropping on to his haunches, he squirmed and whined.

  Shane laughed. “You do get excited, don’t you?” He held out his hand for Jack to sniff, so of course Jack licked it. I cringed for a second, sure Shane would recoil in disgust like some people did, but instead he laughed again and petted Jack.

  “The cats are around too. Snowball and Oreo might come visit. You probably won’t see Tiger.”

  An amused expression quirked his lips.

  I rolled my eyes. “They came with the names, I swear.”

  “Sure they did.”

  “They did! Okay, except Tiger.”

  “Uh-huh.” He put his hands on my hips. “Didn’t you mention something about a bed?”

  “I did. This way.” I nodded toward the hall, and Shane followed with Jack on his heels. At the bedroom door, I motioned for Jack to sit. He obeyed but whined. “No, you have to stay out.” I shut the door, careful not to catch one of his paws again. “You can come in later. I promise.” The door clicked, and Jack whined. “Later. Promise!”

  I glanced at Shane, and he smirked.

  “Sorry.” I sheepishly cleared my throat. “I . . . talk to them sometimes.”

  “Sorry?” He hooked his fingers in my belt loops and pulled me in. “Don’t apologize for treating your pets like you should.”

  “Okay, then. I won’t.” I cupped his ass and held him against me so he could feel me getting hard again. “Now where did we leave off?”

  “Hmm.” He leaned down to kiss my neck. “I think there was something about getting naked and horizontal.”

  “That sounds about right.” I nudged him back a step toward the bed and started untucking his shirt. “Especially the naked part.”

  Lifting his head, he murmured what sounded like an agreement and kissed me again as he fumbled with my belt. I pulled his belt too, more to lead him toward the bed than to take it off. He followed without resistance. We stopped long enough to leave our shoes and socks on the floor, but didn’t bother taking anything else off before I dragged him down onto the bed on top of me.

  And it was like a switch flipped in him. He shoved me onto my back and straddled me as he came down to kiss me, and his kiss amped up from oh yeah enthusiastic to oh my God yes starving. He pinned my wrist to the pillow, sending a jolt of electricity right through me. My other hand was still free—and all over him—but that bold, dominant move turned me on like crazy. It was the last thing I’d expected from him, and it made me want him even more than I already had.

  I freed my wrist and slid my hand into his hair. When I closed my fingers enough to pull, he groaned and pressed his hips against mine. Our hard cocks rubbed through our clothes, but he abruptly lifte
d himself up. “Okay, this?” He tugged at my belt buckle. “Has got to go.”

  “Fine by me.” I helped him unbuckle it. We started to pull it free from my belt loops, but then he just pushed the buckle out of the way and kissed me instead.

  “Much better,” he murmured and pressed his still-clothed dick against mine.

  Better? But . . . he was still dressed. I was still dressed. There were steps we could take to alleviate that problem, but now that we were here in my bed, now that I’d confirmed my fantasy that Shane was an amazing kisser, I was too distracted to fuck with clothes. I had exactly what I wanted. Though I’d been thinking nonstop since yesterday about having my dick buried in him, now that he was here, I could’ve happily done this for hours. Making out as if this was the only thing either of us needed tonight—damn it was perfect.

  “We made it to horizontal,” he murmured, “but we should really do something about the naked part.”

  Okay, screw taking our time. And fuck these clothes.

  “Uh-huh. Good idea.”

  We got up and stripped off what was left of our clothes. As he kicked off his boxers, I paused to drink in the sight of him. No shock—he was even more appealing when he was naked. He wasn’t one of those hairless chiseled guys with a six-pack who wound up on the cover of fitness magazines, but he was the kind of attractive that made my mouth water. Smooth, lean muscle. A dusting of dark hair on his chest. Exactly my kind of man, and all mine for tonight.

  I stepped toward him and went to put my arms around him, but he was suddenly gone.

  No, not gone.

  Kneeling.

  And . . . whoa. Shane’s oral talents did not stop at kissing. Maybe he was coming off a dry spell, but this man was no virgin.

  I held on to the footboard and stared down at him, and what a sight. A few strands of hair tumbled into his eyes. The disheveled look suited him, especially with a dick in his mouth. With my dick in his mouth.

  I rocked my hips a little, fucking his talented lips, and he moaned around my cock. There were men who were skilled at this, and there were those who made up for lack of skill with extra enthusiasm. Shane was both—his mouth was as skilled as it was eager.