by E. Davies
Heart's Home
by E. Davies
© 2015 E. Davies
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any forms or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within critical reviews and articles.
Edited by Adalia Temple.
Cover design by ResplendentMedia.com.
Amazon Kindle Edition.
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
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Prologue
Logan
“Oh, that's the ticket...”
Logan closed his lips around the tip of the short, thick cock that was twitching to life an inch or two away from his face. He shifted, the tile floor of the office uncomfortable against his knees.
The scruffy, hard-faced man sitting in the rolling office chair wasn't the kind of guy he'd normally get on his knees for, but a deal was a deal... even a deal up in the air that he hoped to cement by the time Blythe came.
He shifted, his feet bumping against the desk in the crowded little office.
The blinds were drawn and the doorknob locked as Blythe conducted a one-on-one “financial review” with Logan. The only thing they'd reviewed was Blythe's cock, from base to tip, and it was as hard and needy as always.
“Don't take all day. I have another meeting in twenty minutes,” Blythe told Logan. One hand rested on the front of his plaid shirt. His other closed around the back of Logan's head to push it down on his cock.
Logan swallowed the velvety length to the base, his tongue lapping around the head and shaft before he bobbed his head back up again. He glanced up across the view of Blythe's baggy suit to take in his expression for a moment, then looked back at his stomach as he bobbed his head up and down.
The ends justified the means.
Blythe wasn't going to take long at all. He was already arching off the chair slightly, thrusting his hips into Logan's face as he gasped for breath in shallow pants. Logan swirled his tongue around the head of Blythe's cock a few more times, drawing his head all the way up to pop off the length.
Blythe moaned his protest, trying to grip Logan's head and push it back down onto his cock.
Logan pushed back against the hand, prompting Blythe to open his eyes. “So, do we have an arrangement?” He knew the answer already, but he had to make sure before he finished his end of the deal.
“Yes, yes,” Blythe breathed out. “Your bid's in. Just make sure you've got the cash if you end up winning, or we're both fucked.”
Logan grinned and ran his tongue along the pulsing erection from base to tip before sucking the hard length back into his mouth. He bobbed his head a few more quick times, feeling Blythe push his head down and claw ineffectively at his shoulders before Blythe's hips shuddered and the man coated his tongue in stickiness.
He swallowed a few times, continuing to bob his head up and down Blythe's hard-on a few more times before the man's grip relaxed and he sank back into his comfortable chair, gasping.
Logan rose to his feet, wiping his mouth and grabbing a mint from the bowl on Blythe's desk. “Pleasure doing business, as always.”
“You, too.” Blythe rolled closer to the desk as he zipped himself back up, wiping his forehead with his arm and fanning himself.
Though it wasn't quite June, the office was already sweltering, and Logan was glad to open the door to the cooler hallway. Soon, he'd be outside squishing his toes into cool dirt again and mentally budgeting for the riskiest move of his career.
Chapter 1
Logan
Gotta get it--
Gotta get it--
Gotta get it tonight!
The music blared its repetitive, techno beat as Logan waited at the bar for the bartender to notice him. This place was a lot classier than his usual rundown urban or outdoor haunts. He felt out of place even in his best clothes – tight black jeans and a white t-shirt under a light green, collared shirt, and his leather boots were reclaimed thrift store finds. At least his casual gelled-up hairstyle fit in here.
There were only two good reasons to come here: to look at the best-looking men in suits the city had to offer, or because someone he was dating wanted to go out here. Since he wasn't seeing anyone right now, his reason for being here was the first.
“Hey, I need another, too.” Juan, one of his closest friends who had insisted on taking him out, joined him. He leaned on the bar top beside Logan, glancing around at the backlit, bright blue bottle displays. Juan was a good-looking man himself, and though Logan knew he was attractive, he always felt a little inferior with Juan at his elbow. Despite being underdressed, he made the torn plaid shirt look fucking hot, and Logan grimaced to himself.
“What can I get you gentlemen?” the bartender addressed them.
Logan let Juan ask for a cocktail first, then nodded. “Same as him,” he requested. A Tequila Sunrise wasn't going to be made with local, organic ingredients, but nothing here was – another reason he felt out of place.
The bartender stepped back as he poured from his bottles and shook the tin above his head. “Having a good night?”
“Oh, yeah,” Juan agreed. Logan nodded to be polite.
“Together?”
“No, we're -- oh.” Logan shook his head while Juan bit back a grin. “Separate bills, please.”
“That'll be ten dollars.” The bartender poured the drinks into two glasses and topped them each with a cherry, then presented them on the bar.
“Each?” Good thing I brought an extra twenty. Logan dug through his pocket.
Juan turned his face away, and Logan knew he was trying not to grin at that surprised question. Juan went out more, but Logan was feeling sticker shock. Juan always teased him for being out of touch with modern life.
“Not bad, hm?” the bartender asked, mistaking his surprise for the good kind. “Happy hour pricing. I'll be back in a second.” He stepped off to answer a question from someone else.
“Oh, I thought that happened, like, right after work...” Logan shook his head.
“No, it's a bit later here. They don't even open until ten, when you're in bed, so...” Juan teased him and winked.
Logan blushed as he pulled out a wrinkled twenty and smoothed it out.
The bartender returned, and then pointed at Logan. “Actually, your drink comes free, courtesy of the gentleman in blue on the other side of the bar there. If I could get yours...? Thank you.” The bartender took Juan's money.
Logan opened his mouth for a moment as he processed that, then closed it again and pocketed his money. He took his drink and strode across the floor towards the table he shared with his friends, his head down.
“Whoa, whoa,” Juan called out from behind him, laughing as he circled around to cut him off. “You can't just run off.”
L
ogan knew better than to try to get around Juan. He'd make Logan say hello to the man, at least. “Come on, he is way out of my league.” He'd noticed the gorgeous man in the tailored suit with the shiny silver wristwatch as he was waiting to be served. He hadn't expected the man to have noticed him.
“He bought you a drink. He's not that far out of your league.”
“Maybe he made a mistake.”
“What?” Juan laughed, sipping his drink and edging left as Logan tried to sidle that way. “What mistake?”
“He meant to, oh, give the drink to you... or someone else...” Logan insisted, his cheeks hot.
Juan quirked an eyebrow, glancing over Logan's shoulder and then meeting his eyes. “I don't think so.” In response to Logan's silent question, he nodded behind him.
Against his better instinct, Logan looked at whoever caught Juan's eye, and his heart skipped a beat. It was the man who had bought his drink. He was looking at him. The stranger offered a beautiful smile, those teeth perfect and white and straight even from across the room. He looked rich – richer than even the rest of the guys here.
Oh, shit, this obligated him to go talk to him, didn't it?
He bit his lip, then straightened his shoulders. He could talk to policymakers, city government officials, food bank administrators, and farmers alike. Being romanced? That was something else altogether.
“Go talk to him.” Poor Juan was over the moon. He'd been trying to talk Logan into starting some kind of romance for months. Sure, Logan hooked up – not lately, but usually – but he didn't believe in Mr. Right like Juan did.
All Logan wanted was a night at a time. He just wanted a hot man who knew what he wanted, who took utter control, showed him what his body was capable of, and blew his mind. The tricky part was that he didn't want Mr. Right Now to stay for breakfast the next morning. He got bored quickly, and he had too much else to do besides.
“He's so into you. Gooo.” Juan pushed his back lightly, and Logan gave in and walked over, if only to appease him and have good manners. Maybe this guy just wanted to invite him home for the night, no-strings-attached.
The handsome stranger slid off his seat to stand up when Logan approached, sizing him up with another smile.
“Hi.” Logan awkwardly raised the cocktail for a moment. “Thanks for this.”
“You're welcome. What's your name?”
“Logan,” he answered. “Hudson.”
“Logan Hudson?” the stranger repeated despite the background noise.
“Yeah. And you?”
“Hunter,” the man answered.
Logan swallowed a sarcastic retort about him not having a surname. Okay, fine. He's probably closeted. And he's rich with a name and a suit like that.
“You seem put off already. Surely I'm not that bad-looking?” Hunter grinned like a man who knew he wasn't. “Are you more of the take-charge type? I didn't mean to offend you by buying you a drink, but... someone has to get these things started.” His speech was elegant and his syllables crisp.
“Yeah... no, I mean. No offense taken,” Logan shook his head, and then slid onto the barstool next to him. He'd stay and chat for a minute, at least. “So, what do you do?”
“This and that,” Hunter admitted. “I used to run a company, but I sold it about a year ago. Since then, I've been involved in real estate deals.”
He's rich as sin, then. On principle, Logan disliked him. “Oh, I see.”
“What about you? What keeps a handsome guy like you busy?”
Logan was determined not to like him now, but he offered a polite smile in exchange for the compliment. “I work on permaculture, food security, environmental issues... that sort of thing.”
“Oh, you'd hate me, then.” Hunter laughed, the sound obscenely smooth, rich, and... musical.
Logan raised his eyebrows. “Why?” he asked, intrigued to hear what Hunter would think of him.
“I drive a gas-guzzler, fly around the world, and live in a mansion,” Hunter told him simply. “I don't think we're supposed to be talking face-to-face without picket signs.” He sat next to Logan, sipping a glass of what looked like whisky.
Despite himself, Logan chuckled. “Probably not. Yeah, I'm going to judge you, but no more than everyone else,” he gestured towards the rest of the bar as he sipped his drink. “And I'm not perfect, either.”
Hunter's eyes widened. Logan thought they might be dark blue. It was hard to tell in this kind of lighting. “Say it isn't so.”
“It's true,” Logan insisted. “None of us are perfect. But if you avoid even one plane trip, or consolidate your car trips... eat half as much meat... cut back your water use... you'd be surprised how much you can help the environment.” He grimaced at the ribbing he knew was coming. “I know, I know. I'm a hippie.” It still never stopped him sharing the advice when he was trying to hook up. No wonder he hadn't gotten laid in so long.
“I'll make sure I never shower alone again,” Hunter teased, leaning towards him. “And I'll only judge you a bit.”
“Fair enough,” Logan nodded, sipping the last few drops of his drink. “I hope buying me a drink was worth it now,” he added, nodding at it as he lowered it from his lips and pushed the empty glass over the counter.
Logan became aware that Hunter's gaze was lingering on his lips as Logan instinctively licked them to get the last sweet droplets. “Me, too.”
Oh, that tone was suggestive. Logan hated that it sent a flash of heat through his whole body.
“Can I persuade you to join me at a table?” Hunter tipped his head back to down the last bit of his drink, then glanced towards the VIP tables. “We could order a bottle, get to know each other through mutual distaste for each other's lifestyles...”
Logan would have scoffed and walked away from anyone else, but this gorgeous Hunter was making it sound appealing. Fuck. He had a smooth tongue.
Oh, what the hell. I'm starved for attention.
The second Logan nodded, Hunter stood and leaned in to ask the bartender to be shown to a VIP table with bottle service.
Logan had never been into the reserved section before, nor had he ever gotten bottle service at any restaurant. He hardly knew what to expect.
“Good evening, Mr. Kenning,” another gorgeous waiter greeted as he led them to the tables, letting them through the rope barrier. The security guard standing nearby nodded, too.
Logan nodded back, taking a seat when they reached the intimate table for two.
The waiter approached with a tray that held a carafe, glasses, and sliced fruits. He arranged the glasses and fruits, and then poured them both drinks. “I'm Brian. I'll be serving you this evening. Now, if you have anything at all, catch my eye and I'll be happy to help. What's your name?”
“Logan.” It's like having your own servant. Oh, this is weird and kind of gross. I bet he gets paid minimum wage or something. Do we tip him?
Hunter handed over a bill and flashed a grin. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome. Glad to see you again, Mr. Kenning. Enjoy,” Brian answered, pocketing the money and bowing before he headed off.
Logan stared at Hunter for a few moments. His mixed emotions must have shown in his expression, since Hunter laughed.
“Are you all right? You seem... surprised.”
“That's the last word I'd use,” Logan retorted, but then he nodded. “I suppose so, though.” Is he, like, a millionaire...?
Hunter picked up his glass and held it up for a toast. Logan clinked their glasses together and sipped.
The sharp, slightly dry taste of whatever he was drinking was counterbalanced by the taste of fruit moments later. Despite himself, Logan sipped again, then nodded. “Mm.”
“Good, hm?” Hunter seemed interested in his reactions. “Have you ever had anything like this?”
“I haven't had it, no,” Logan interrupted. “I usually stick to the same three cocktails. How strong is it?”
Hunter gestured to the carafe as he set down his glass and
settled in a comfortable position on the chair, his legs apart and an arm draped along the back of the sectional sofa in a naturally confident way. “Let's just say if you drank it all, you probably wouldn't remember where you live.”
“Oh.” Logan narrowed his eyes a moment later. “If you're planning that, I'm not compromising my morals--”
“I'm not!” Hunter laughed, raising his hands to plead mercy. “Anyway, what do you mean, your morals?” Logan wasn't sure how to answer that honestly. Before he could try, Hunter supplied, “You don't want to sleep with a guy who destroys the planet twice as fast as you?”
Logan's cheeks flushed and he folded his arms, letting irritation show for the first time. “Something like that.”
Hunter looked self-satisfied. Logan took a moment to study him now that they were away from the electric blue backlight of the bar. Watchful blue eyes were set beneath chestnut-brown hair and brows, and his cheeks were perfectly smooth, his jawline stubbled and symmetrical. Best of all, Hunter's lips were pink and plump – and currently smirking. Hunter had noticed him looking.
“What?” Logan retorted.
Hunter's smirk broadened. “Oh, you seem to be finding me awfully appealing for someone morally opposed to my existence.”
“Not your existence,” Logan corrected. “Just your patterns of consumption.” Shit, I can't deny that he's attractive, though.
“What? Do you only consume grass-fed meat?” With the grin he was wearing, Logan was certain Hunter meant that in a sexual way.
“It's a bit too soon to be discussing that,” Logan chose to answer coolly. Of course he wants to fuck me. Secretly, he was a little pleased that Hunter laughed, apparently caught off-guard with his smooth answer.
“Shy?”
“You'd be surprised.” Not under the right hands in bed.
“Mmm.”
They had a few moments of silence now as they sipped their drinks. Hunter gave them each a refill in their glasses, then spoke up, “So, how soon is too soon to ask if you're single?”
“Why, do you have a hot hippie friend?” Logan retorted as he enjoyed the burn of alcohol down his throat. “But yeah, I am.”