Everything He Wants
Page 1
Everything He Wants
By Sarah Hadley Brook
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2018 Sarah Hadley Brook
ISBN 9781634866613
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
All rights reserved.
WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
Dedicated to everyone looking for love and refusing to give up.
* * * *
Everything He Wants
By Sarah Hadley Brook
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Marc
A light wind rippled across the water, jostling him as the dock rose and fell with the gentle waves. Sunlight glittered across Wesley Lake and Marc slid his sunglasses from the top of his head and settled them on his nose, blocking out the dazzling rays. The temperature was already climbing, so he welcomed the fluttering breezes.
The forecast had predicted Fourth of July could bring record-breaking heat, and he was starting to believe it. He was already looking forward to cooling off in the lake and wondered how early he could get away with changing into his suit. He’d arrived only a few minutes earlier, ready to help his best friend, Graham, with anything he needed before the other guests arrived. His first assignment had been to tote the folding chairs to the dock.
A blue and white bowrider piloted by a young man sped by a little too fast, considering his close proximity to the land, and the dock moved with the swells. Funny that a year ago, Marc didn’t even know what a bowrider was, but now that Graham lived on the lake, Marc was learning about all kinds of boats. Graham and his partner, Sam, had decided to purchase a new boat and were looking at a variety.
The old pontoon that had come with the cabin was tied to the side of the dock, and people would certainly be going out on it later. He hoped his friends would keep the pontoon, but wasn’t sure if two boats would be practical. Marc liked it, though. It was large, had lots of seating, and was easy to jump off when they took it out on the lake.
“Marc?”
He turned at Graham’s call and saw him leaning over the deck railing from above. His friend wore a red T-shirt and already had on board shorts, so maybe Marc could head inside and change into his suit. Everything he needed was stuffed into a backpack he’d tossed into Graham’s room.
“Yeah?”
“Can you give me a hand in the kitchen?” His voice sounded a little shrill.
“Sure,” he hollered and smiled. Graham always got a little stressed before hosting a get-together. Marc was used to it—they’d been friends for a long time. After one more wistful look at the water, he hustled across the wooden walkway, then followed the cement path that led to the stairs and up to the deck. The lake cabin was all on one floor, save for the storage room underneath.
Graham and Sam had put a lot of work into the place since Graham had purchased it from his father last year. The deck was completely new and twice the original size, and now featured benches wrapping around two sides. Marc opened the screen door and entered the kitchen, not surprised to see Graham leaning over the counter, his eyes closed.
“What’s wrong?” Marc asked, resting his hand on Graham’s shoulder. “How can I help?”
Graham turned, a tight smile on his lips. “I don’t know why I’m so freaked out. It’s just a small party.”
“I do. You always want everything to be perfect…and it always is. So take a deep breath.” Marc waited for him to follow through. “Now, what can I do to help? That’s the reason I showed up early, remember?”
“I know. Thank you. It’s just that some of the people Sam invited are his coworkers and I’ve met only a couple of them. I just want to make everything perfect for him.”
Marc tried not to snort at Graham’s moony-eyed look. Ever since he’d met Sam the year before, Graham had been completely smitten. Fortunately, Sam had been the same. The situation sickened Marc a little, but that was his jealousy talking. “Trust me. Sam is going to love anything you do.”
“What’s that?” They turned to see Sam walking through the open living room, bags of groceries in his arms. Well over six feet tall, with shoulders like a football player, he made carrying those bags look like the easiest thing in the world. He grinned at Graham and set the bags on the counter. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, leaning in for a kiss.
Marc turned away. He was happy for them, he really was. But he’d been in a dry spell lately, and even though it was self-imposed, he didn’t need to see their sweet displays. And he knew that probably made him a bad friend. He’d likely get past it soon, but for now, he felt a little melancholy about the whole situation.
“Hey, Marc,” Sam said, still hugging Graham. “Great to see you.”
Marc grunted.
Sam laughed. “Don’t be like that,” he teased.
Marc rolled his eyes. “Seriously? I haven’t dated in six months. Ever since your boyfriend, here, convinced me to take things slow and look for ‘Mr. Right’ instead of ‘Mr. Right Now.’” And he needed to get laid like he needed to breathe. It was killing him. But he kept that bit of info to himself.
Sam laughed and ruffled Marc’s hair. “Blue? Weren’t your tips purple last week?”
“I redid them for Fourth of July.” He ran his fingers through his white blond hair, smoothing it down.
Graham ordered Sam to start the grill and assigned Marc to chop vegetables for the veggie tray.
Marc started on the carrots and glanced out the window at the lake. “Is the boat ready to go out later?”
Graham slid a batch of brownies into the oven. “Gassed up and ready. The fireworks start as soon as it’s dark, so we’ll take the boat to the middle of the lake and get settled in plenty of time.”
They talked as they worked, the conversation flowing easily. It had always been like that between them.
“Is your dad coming?”
“No. He’s had a difficult few days, so we’re going to visit him tomorrow. We decided that bringing him out would be too hard on him.” Graham sighed. “It’s so sad watching him get worse.”
Graham’s dad had early-onset Alzheimer’s and he’d been placed in an assisted living facility a few months back. Graham still felt guilty about it, even though he knew it was for the best.
“What time are people arriving?” he inquired, attempting to change the subject.
“We said around five,” Sam answered a
s he stepped inside and grabbed tongs. “But it’s really casual, so people may show up earlier or later.”
That gave them only about half an hour, so once he’d finished the carrots, celery, and broccoli florets, he asked, “Want me to add the black olives and broccoli to the pasta salad?”
Graham nodded. “And the dressing,” he added as he followed Sam onto the deck, carrying brats and hot dogs.
Marc worked on the pasta salad, adding and mixing ingredients. He started thinking again about changing into his swimsuit when he heard the front door bang.
“Hello?”
Marc trembled at the deep voice ringing through the cottage. He glanced over his shoulder and gaped at the incredibly gorgeous man in the living room. His breath caught in his chest and his knees nearly buckled at the sight of every one of his fantasies rolled up into one man.
The man stood over six feet tall, had broad muscled shoulders, tattoos running down both bulging arms, and a gray T-shirt pulled tight over hard pecs. Faded jeans showcased muscled thighs and a flat waist. And the hair—God, the hair—dark brown, almost black, swept back and layered, edges curling around his ears. He also bore a close beard and mustache, strong cheekbones, and gorgeous dark eyebrows. Marc finally let himself look at the man’s eyes, and he gasped. Even from ten feet away, the emerald green dazzled him. And they stared right at Marc.
The stranger’s lips curved into a smile, telling Marc he’d caught him checking him out. Marc’s cheeks heated and he swore under his breath, but he still didn’t move.
Sam entered the kitchen with Graham right behind him.
“Aiden! Glad you could make it,” Sam said, grinning as he took the bag from him. “What’s this?”
“Just chips and salsa, my contribution,” he answered, his eyes still on Marc.
“Are you okay?” Graham whispered, standing next to him.
Marc swallowed and nodded, tearing away his gaze and returning his attention to the pasta salad.
Sam led Aiden into the kitchen. “Babe, this is Aiden Wright, the new nurse at the office.”
“Oh, hi! It’s nice to meet you. Sam’s talked about you a lot.” Graham elbowed Marc. “This is my best friend, Marc Byrne.”
“Marc,” Aiden said, his voice like velvet.
Marc nodded, but found speaking beyond his abilities at the moment.
Aiden smirked and gave Marc a slow perusal, from the top of his white blond hair, to the electric blue tips, pausing to raise an eyebrow at his shimmery lips, then leisurely continued all the way down his five-foot-five-inch frame to his new white Astor kicks. His gaze again met Marc’s. He felt his blush deepen, but he couldn’t look away. Heat flashed in Aiden’s eyes and desire jolted through Marc, running directly to his dick.
With a wink from Aiden, Marc’s desire ramped up. It was immediate. Primal. If he found out Aiden rode a motorcycle and wore leather, he may never breathe again. He was the perfect daddy to his fantasies. The ones he’d never shared with anyone. Well, except for Graham. Which probably meant that Sam knew, too.
Sam asked Aiden to join him on the deck, and once they stepped outside, Marc grabbed the counter and fought the urge to follow.
“Wow,” Graham murmured, raising an eyebrow. “That was some serious heat between you guys. Should Sam and I leave?”
Marc rolled his eyes and tried to blow it off. “Whatever.”
Graham laughed. “I thought you weren’t dating right now.”
“True. I’m holding out for Mr. Right, just like you did and—” His jaw dropped. “Oh, my God! Graham.” He grabbed his friend’s arm. “His name is Mr. Wright!”
Graham chuckled. “Yes it is.”
Marc was big on signs, and this one flashed in his face like a warning beacon. Was Aiden the one he’d been waiting for? In the past, he’d gone from man to man, one-night stand to one-night stand, looking for romance the wrong way and constantly getting his heart broken—he had a tendency to fall hard and fast, always thinking a one-nighter would turn into real love. After seeing his best friend finally find love with Sam and witnessing their happiness, he’d known he wanted the real thing, too.
It had been hard, but he’d stayed away from the clubs, determined to work on himself before he dated again. He’d focused on his job at the finance company and it had paid off—he’d been promoted to Senior Underwriter just last week. He knew a lot of people would think his job boring, but he’d always liked working with numbers. They made sense. Everything fell into the right box.
Funny, but in his personal life, he wasn’t like that. He liked expressing himself through clothes. He changed the highlights in his hair all the time. He loved art, trying new things, and dancing. And he was an expert at George Michael trivia. The man was his idol. Marc also enjoyed feeling creative and thinking out of the box in his life, just not his day job. He knew he was a bit of a conundrum for people, but he was happy with who he was.
“Oh, God, I need to check my face,” he murmured as he headed to Graham’s room to get his backpack. He frowned at his friend’s laughter, but didn’t really care. He wanted to look good before he saw Aiden again.
Once he’d touched up his eyeliner and shimmery gloss, he was ready to tango with Aiden. Now if only he could stop the fluttering in his belly.
It wasn’t until he stepped out that he realized he hadn’t changed.
Chapter 2
Aiden
“Hey, can you hand me the tongs?”
Aiden glanced at Sam, the words not getting through. His mind was still on the guy inside. Shit, Marc was gorgeous. Like model beautiful. Porcelain skin, white blond hair with the ends dyed blue, and pale sky blue eyes that popped with the black liner. He was pretty petite, at least seven inches shorter than Aiden. But God, those lips. Glossy with the hint of pink. Aiden wanted to taste those sweet lips.
He’d had that instant kind of reaction to Marc, the kind that made him feel like a teenager again. A teenager with a raging hard-on. He shifted and tried to discreetly adjust himself. The snicker from Sam told him he’d failed.
“Are you done?”
Aiden furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?”
“Are you done imagining what you’d like to do to Marc?”
His cheeks burned, but couldn’t help smiling. “Hadn’t even got that far, my friend.”
Sam laughed and shook his head. “Well, I asked you to hand me the tongs—think you can do that?” He pointed to the table.
Aiden grunted and grabbed them, handing them to Sam. A peek through the door into the kitchen showed Marc talking with Graham. When Marc smiled, his eyes crinkled and a warmth spread through Aiden’s chest. “Is he seeing anyone?”
“Not right now.”
A miracle. Who the hell didn’t want to make that man his? All Aiden could think about was wrapping up Marc in his arms, turning himself into the human version of bubble wrap. Marc’s delicate beauty stunned Aiden. He’d never been drawn to a man like him. He usually went for muscled guys, strong, broad, and beefy. The first day at his new job when he’d met Sam, he’d nearly drooled. The man was hot, but Aiden had found out within ten minutes that Sam was off the market. Yes, Sam was more his type, but now, Aiden had this inexplicable urge to hold Marc. Prevent anything bad from ever happening to him.
Marc’s gaze flitted to the door and they locked gazes. Even from outside, Aiden saw the blush spread across Marc’s face, the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.
“Um, you need anything from the kitchen?” he asked, his voice husky.
Sam chuckled. “No, but I’ll have mercy on you. Ask them if we have enough ketchup and mustard.”
Aiden didn’t need to be told twice. He walked inside, careful to not let the door bang behind him. The air conditioning inside the small cottage proved a welcome reprieve from the heat.
He cleared his throat. Graham offered him a smile, but Marc blushed again, his eyes falling to Aiden’s lips.
God, he was sexy as fuck.
“Ye
s?” Graham asked. “Did you need something?”
And Aiden’s mind went blank. Oh, God, he felt like an idiot. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What was he supposed to ask? “Ketchup?” he blurted.
Marc tilted his head, arching an eyebrow.
“Ketchup? Sam needs ketchup? People aren’t even here yet. That doesn’t—”
“He wanted to know if you have enough ketchup and mustard,” Aiden said, finally finding the ability to speak normally again.
“Really? We just bought some. Tell him ‘yes’…” He smiled, clearly figuring out the ruse. “You know what? I’ll go talk with him and get this all straightened out.” He gave Aiden a pointed look and left.
Aiden’s pulse quickened. This was fucking crazy. He never had trouble talking to a man. Marc’s gaze drifted slowly over him, and Aiden swore he felt the heat as if the man had actually touched him. When their eyes met again, Marc’s lips curved into a small smile.
“See anything you like?” Aiden stepped closer until they stood only a few inches apart. He fisted his hands to keep from touching the man, but it proved difficult.
Marc nodded, that shy smile spreading across his face, and his eyes twinkled. “Definitely.”
“Tell me something about you. Anything.” His heart raced as he waited.
“Anything, huh?” Marc chewed his bottom lip. “Hmm, okay. My favorite color is blue.”
“Like the soft blue of your eyes? Or the bright blue in your hair?” His voice dropped so low that even if anyone else had been there, they wouldn’t have heard him.
Marc visibly shivered. “I guess…I like all blues. When I was a kid, I always wanted the Midnight Blue crayon, but my second favorite was Periwinkle. What about you?”
Aiden smiled. “My favorite color has always been purple, but I’m kind of partial to pale blue right now.”
Marc shivered again and the blush spread down his neck.
“Are you cold?” Aiden leaned forward until their noses almost touched. “If you need help getting warm, let me know.” He let his heated breath skim across Marc’s cheek. He knew it worked when the man shivered yet again. Harder.