HOT AT LAST by Cheryl Dragon

HOT AT LAST by Cheryl Dragon

All Male Nudes! Series, Book Five

For two decades, Ken and Avery have worked together at the Big D. Dishing out zingers and sparking each other over and over. Their past relationship blew up and replaced with a cautious friendship because neither could or would leave.

When Ken takes a fall off the stage and needs some help, Avery takes him in. There’s no avoiding the chemistry, attraction, and unfinished business now. Sorting through their dirty laundry and ancient history, neither wants to face heartbreak again but friends-with-benefits simply won’t work.

With these two, it’s true love or leave the Big D forever.

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Excerpt:

“Ken is going all out,” Bev said as she pointed to the stage.

Avery turned his head, and indeed, Ken was in rare form. Normally, he hung in the back with a big group performance. He kept an eye on the other men and whipped them into shape at the next rehearsal if they’d been sloppy on stage.

Still, Ken had cut down his solo dances to one a night. All of his actions lately signaled he saw the writing on the wall. Avery silently scolded himself for nagging Ken today. Pushing his buttons only made him rebel. But silence riled up Ken as well.

“Just when I thought he was figuring out he’s not a kid anymore.” Avery took a bite of his piece of cake.

“He’s a dreamer. He’ll slow down, but it’s a shame his prince never showed up.” Bev smiled innocently.

Avery shot her a look. “He’s an adult. We all are. And this is America. If he wants a prince, he should’ve moved to Europe years ago.”

“So literal. We are who we are. I’m a business woman. Always have been. You got into stripping for the money. You never loved it the way he does. He lives for the attention and validation.” Bev shrugged.

“I know. He’s more than looks, though.” Avery had spent a year being the adult in their relationship. Adoring Ken and dealing with his need for more. He’d stroked that ego day-after-day.

“We both know that. He doesn’t understand his value off-stage because no one applauds when he does other things. He’ll never see his real value. It’s a shame.” Bev watched the show.

“He still has plenty of admirers.” Avery wanted to pour himself a stiff drink when he watched a big bear in leather shove a tip in Ken’s glittering briefs. The bulky fan leaned way over and rubbed Ken’s thigh.

Avery had buried his jealousy long ago. Drunken customers were a daily trial, but the splash of beer from the fan’s bottle caught the bartender’s eye. “We need to clean up that stage.”

“Let them finish. I’m sure Ken saw it,” Bev said.

Ken leaned over to give the bear a kiss on the cheek and slipped on the liquid. He didn’t fall on the stage but off it, hitting the side as he went.

“Shit!” Avery muttered.

He and Bev watched, expecting Ken to pop back up and take a bow. The waiting was agony. When Ken didn’t turn up and instead a couple experienced dancers hopped of the stage then waved for a bouncer, Avery knew it wasn’t good. The DJ announced a quick break to clean things up and invited the patrons to enjoy lap dances and refill their drinks.

“Go check on him,” Bev said.

“Me?” Avery asked. “He’ll listen to you.”

Bev shook her head. “I’ll cover the bar. Go check on him.”

Avery headed backstage and found Ken pacing and cursing. “That idiot!”

“Relax, it’s not the first time someone spilled or fell on stage.” Avery noticed Ken cradling his right arm. Everything else seemed just fine on him, but his shoulder looked weird.

“Off. I fell off the stage,” Ken informed Avery. “I’m okay.”

“Except for that arm. I think it’s dislocated,” a bouncer said.

Avery saw the pain Ken was hiding. He’d had plenty of dancing injuries. Twisted ankles, knees and a thrown-out back. When they’d dated, Avery hadn’t minded nursing him. This time, Ken was in real pain.

“I’ll be fine. Probably badly bruised and sprained, that’s all.” Ken tried to downplay it. “Go on! Get back out there! Do your jobs. We’re not all injured.”

The bouncer and other dancers ran back out front. Ken’s hissy fits were second only to Bev’s. If Bev yelled, everyone worried. Avery knew that’s why she’d sent him. She’d be yelling at Ken, and things would spin in a bad direction.

As soon as they were alone, Ken’s calm face cracked. “Fuck this hurts!”

“Let’s go to the ER.” Avery grabbed Ken’s duffle and pulled out his jeans.

“No, I’m not going. It’ll be fine. Just twisted.” Ken shook his head.

Avery put his finger into Ken’s limp right hand. “Squeeze my finger.”

“It’s a pinched nerve or swollen joint. It’ll go down with some icing overnight,” Ken argued.

“We’re going. Want me to get Bev in here? File it as workman’s comp?” Avery threatened as he held Ken’s pants open.

“You’re such a jerk sometimes.” Ken stepped into the jeans.

Avery pulled them up and closed the fly. It’d been a long time since he’d been this close to Ken. The smell of his old lover, the perfect muscles and the good memories flooded Avery’s mind. No one else made him feel this way, but they didn’t need to reignite anything. It’d taken so long to find balance and friendship.

“Want to try a shirt?” Avery asked.

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THE BAKER GETS HIS MAN by Rebecca Brochu

THE BAKER GETS HIS MAN by Rebecca Brochu

Jacob Stine, one of the owners of the town’s bakery, has wanted Race Carroway since the moment they first met.

 Despite the obvious tension between them, he’d always assumed that the hunky mechanic would never be interested in him. Jacob had resigned himself to admiring Race from a distance until the day he’s forced to call him for help.

When the encounter turns steamy and then abruptly ends, Jacob is torn between hurt and confusion. He has to make the decision between finally moving on and trusting Race with one more chance. Will the baker have what it takes to get his man?

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Excerpt:

He was aware of the way Race’s long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel and how the muscles in his arm bunched when he shifted gears.  The cab of the truck smelt like sweat and grease and a hint of the spicy cologne Race wore.  Normally the combination would smell unpleasant, but it only reminded Jacob of days spent staring out the bakery window and watching as Race pulled himself, sweaty and disheveled, from underneath whatever vehicle he was working on.  Jacob had always imagined what it would be like to make his way into the garage at night when Race was working late, to find him laid out on the creeper wrist deep in the undercarriage of some car or truck.  To kneel on the cold concrete floor, unzip the fly of Race’s worn jeans, pull his cock out and swallow it down.

Jacob had spent more than one night, alone in his bed, hand fisted around his own cock as he imagined the choked off sounds of surprise Race would make as he sucked him off nice and slow. 

He tried to shake the thought off, tried not to get caught up in the fantasy when Race was only inches away from him, but it proved harder to do than he’d ever imagined. 

By the time Jacob saw his driveway in the distance he was half hard and sweating lightly, desperate to get out of the truck before he did something he’d regret.  Something like reach for the tab of Race’s jeans even though he was almost certain that Race wouldn’t welcome the gesture.  He was already reaching for his seatbelt as Race pulled into his driveway, but Race clamped a hand down on his shoulder and stopped him from leaping out of the truck.

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HOT RIVALS by Cheryl Dragon

HOT RIVALS by Cheryl Dragon

Jay and Robbie both bare their bodies at the most popular strip club in Vegas.

Pleasing the customer is their main job. However, Jay isn’t going to let the new guy knock him out of the top spot without playing dirty.

Dating another stripper is asking for trouble, but in the end Jay finds himself being seduced by the sexiest cowboy in Vegas!

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Excerpt:

 

Jay Belfer watched his main competition from the corner of his eye. Robbie Sloan was fairly new to the Big D’s strip club. Sexy and friendly, Robbie made it easy to like him. The clients went wild for that cowboy charm. Jay worked hard not to get too close but kept an eye on the new meat. This was a job, and Jay had a lot invested in Big D’s.

Everyone knew the “D” stood for Dicks but the owner insisted it stood for her last name, D’Agostino. She loved well-hung men performing in her club, which was actually two strip clubs sharing one big building. One side for male patrons, the other for female.

The men’s half of the club featured all-the-way performances on stage. All the men—at least those working on the men’s side tonight—stripped down to nothing. On the other side of the building, another group of guys were doing the exact same thing for a screaming crowd of horny women. Jay never got tired of the rush of being on stage, no matter who he entertained.

In this crowd of gay men, he easily spotted the owner, Bev, watching Robbie shake his ass for the crowd. A professional stripper seven years now, Jay kept his eyes on the crowd and connected with the customers. He was still the top draw—for now.

The new guy, Robbie, was hard to resist and two years younger at twenty-five. He was tan with short brown hair and dark brown eyes. The guy came from a rodeo background so he was flexible and rugged, but rumors reported he had zero cash. Not unusual given the type of work he’d fallen into.

As the men’s pants came off, the crowd cheered. Jay gave them a little smile and saw a lot of regulars out there. Down to gauzy briefs that were pretty much see-through, he let the thrill of the crowd and exhibition turn him on. Jay insisted to himself that it wasn’t Robbie’s tight ass or slightly hairy chest getting his dick up. No way!

Bev generally demanded meticulous manscaping, but Robbie’s chest hair wasn’t overly thick and laid flat against his muscled form. She said it gave him added sex appeal and matched his wild western image. Jay glanced over and saw Robbie’s cock growing. Bev liked men to show it all on stage. It set their club apart. One side for women, one for men, but all of the men went nude and got turned on!

Having to show their erection on stage sent many newbie and wannabe strippers running for the hills. Most new guys thought it’d be easy money on their first day, but Bev was tough on her dancers. Performing took practice and work. The group of men turned and ripped off their briefs. Jay looked at Robbie and cursed himself. With his back to the crowd, Jay admiring other men didn’t matter for the show, but he was really getting turned on. This wasn’t just his usual showing-off hard on today.

Turning, they strutted their stuff and fanned out on the stage to display their full potential. The crowd went wild and after a few minutes, the strippers all headed back to the dressing room. Nudity never bothered Jay, and it didn’t last long. He’d done worse things for money.

Dressing for their next rounds, Jay didn’t have to rush. He was in the last group as a featured dancer. Robbie had moved around the lineup and was growing in popularity. Of course, tonight, he grabbed the chair next to Jay.

“Great crowd.” Robbie closed his jeans then tugged on a long-sleeved shirt.

“They’re good.” Jay noticed Robbie’s cock was still firm in the jeans.

His own member wasn’t relaxing as fast as it normally did. Damn attraction. He always wanted the wrong men! Robbie wasn’t a bad guy, at least not that Jay had found out, but he was the main competition.

Robbie layered a vest and a worn leather jacket atop his shirt. When he bent over to tug on his cowboy boots, Jay forced himself not to imagine Robbie blowing Jay’s cock there in a room full of mostly naked men. No other stripper had turned Jay on so much without even making a pass at him.

“You okay? You looked lost,” Robbie said.

“Fine. Just some stuff on my mind. On stage, I can blank it out, but I don’t go on for a while.”

“I’m up now. See you later.” Robbie smiled wide and dashed for the stage.

Bev liked the contrast of going all nude at first then having men layer on the costumes and show off their individual appeal. The first dance with all the men let customers check them out. Whatever tips came in were split equally from that. From now until the finale, it was one to three guys on the stage performing.

Jay refused to get up and watch Robbie from backstage, no matter how much his cock twitched. Luckily, another dancer came over and sat next to Jay. Any distraction was welcome and Ken had been around Big D’s a lot longer.

“Hot guy. He’s got a crush on you,” Ken teased.

“He’s got a story.” Jay didn’t like competition, but no one could be on top forever. He’d unseated Ken as the top dog a few years back. Ken was blond with dark brown eyes and a swimmer’s body that made women drool. But at forty, he was a veteran. Women and men still loved him, but he wasn’t the new flavor anymore. Jay felt the tug of knowing he wasn’t new, either. Hopefully, he’d handle losing the top spot someday as well as Ken had. He hadn’t iced out Jay, and Ken certainly hadn’t given up.

“We’ve all got a story. I heard his family is in rodeo. They found out he liked dick and tossed him.” Ken adjusted his tie. His tuxedo costume was perfect for him. Classy, sassy, and let him show off his dancing skills at a slower tempo without screaming that he was the older guy here.

“There are gay rodeo riders. Tons of them. I’ve dated a few.” Jay had heard so many sob stories from new strippers that he’d turned a little jaded. Maybe he wanted to find fault with Robbie as an excuse to deny the attraction.

“I guess his family had money, and it was all wrapped up in their show or whatever. So he was out with nothing. He’s hot and can move, though. Bev can pick them.” Ken looked at Jay in the mirror. “You’re really not interested?”

“No, I’m not taking a new guy in and making it easy on him. As soon as he gets his footing, he’d dump me for someone else. Those types always want a nice guy to save them and then run off with a bad boy who’ll hurt them. I’m not into rebound relationships or dealing with someone else’s drama.” Jay didn’t have to spell it out for Ken. Some of the men in the profession were complete users and anyone would do. “Of course, he’s good, Bev doesn’t hire crap dancers.”

Jay made it through his rough years because Bev and one of his Aunt’s up in Reno had looked out for him. Bev had no reason to help thus she had his eternal loyalty and respect. A former Vegas showgirl who’d gone topless on stage and did all sorts of things in hotel rooms, Bev understood the tricks of survival and strength. Now pushing sixty, she helped young men without judging and used her experience to put on a show she swore would run forever!

“Don’t get bitter. You’re not even thirty. Romantics.” Ken chuckled.

“I’ve been called a lot of things, but that isn’t one of them.” Jay listened for the music. Shit! He suddenly realized he’d been waiting for Robbie to hustle his nearly naked body back here.

“You are. Sure, you hook up with guys. Date. But the second a relationship goes south or something bad happens, you bail. You want the perfect Happy Ending. Maybe this Robbie is the one?” Ken brushed off his jacket.

Chuckling, Jay ignored a tug of need in his gut. He wanted more than sex, but that wasn’t the world he lived in. “He’s the competition not the boyfriend. You should worry about finding yourself a man to settle down with. You’re old enough to have fathered some of these guys.”

“If I ever screwed a girl, may rattlesnakes strike my dick. Why would I want to settle down?” Ken stood and headed to the stage as the announcer took over.

Jay smiled but didn’t believe for a second Ken liked being alone. Neither of them had ever been with a woman, but it didn’t change the fact that age happened to everyone. In the end, no one really wanted to be alone. He wanted to see Ken find the right guy. It’d give Jay hope. Just then, Robbie strutted back, his tight g-string filled with money. All Jay saw were Robbie’s firm buns.


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LOVING TYLER by Winona Wilder

LOVING TYLER by Winona Wilder

Coming Out 3

Tyler James is a pro at keeping his emotions bottled up. He uses sex as a tool, never associating it with love. When Cavendish sends one of their representatives to try and recruit him to be their poster boy, he's ready to tell them where they can shove their offer. But the dark-haired god in the Armani suit has him choking on his words.

Marcus Vinetti fights tooth and nail not to be sent to the boondocks to recruit some hick. He's surprised when he meets his cowboy target who has muscle upon muscle and gorgeous green eyes. Although he's usually good at masking his deviant desires, Tyler brings all his needs and wants to the surface.

Will Tyler be able to change his long-standing playboy ways, and will Marcus finally accept that he's in love with another man?

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ADULT EXCERPT

Marcus had never been so aroused in all his life. As soon as Tyler touched his bare dick, he knew in an instant that he was onehundred percent gay. He wanted more, he wanted it all. When he sucked him into his hot, wet mouth he knew he’d beg if the man stopped. It felt so good, so intense. Heat radiated through his body and his balls pulled up tight.

Reality didn’t reemerge until Tyler mentioned taking a cock in his ass. He knew that was what men did, but it scared him. There would be no turning back if they had real sex. Once he allowed a man to take his virginity, to fuck his ass, it would be a mental confirmation of his sexual status. He didn’t want to lose his job or his family, but he also couldn’t pretend to be somebody else for the rest of his life. Marcus was so tired of playing a starring role that wasn’t his to play. It was time to come out, to take what he wanted, not what he knew others expected of him.

He could feel the cowboy’s huge cock fighting for entrance. It was hard to relax and accept him as Tyler suggested. He was so tense, so nervous, so lost. That first thrust brought tears to his eyes both from the pain and the loss. But as Tyler slowly fed the full length of his rigid cock into his ass, it proceeded smoothly, only an uncomfortable pressure left. He could feel the partial weight of the cowboy drop over him, feel the heat from his skin against his back. Tyler planted kisses over his shoulder blades and neck. Never did he thrust or move, only throbbed inside him as he adjusted to the invasion. Marcus appreciated the kind gesture, considering they were strangers and didn’t owe each other a favor.

Tyler whispered in his ear, “You did it.” In a way it was a hurdle in his life, something that had to happen and was long overdue. He could hear the genuine pride in Tyler’s voice, and it made him feel special, victorious.

The cowboy began to move, the sensation of each thrust sent Marcus’s nerves into overdrive. Every sensation felt magnified and vibrant, pulling him deeper and deeper into an erotic web. His cock was pinned painfully against the mattress where he couldn’t reach. The mix of pleasure and pain twisted into a deep-seated longing for more of the same.

“You okay?” Tyler asked. He nodded, too focused to speak. All he wanted was more friction, more new sensations from his cowboy lover. Then Tyler’s strong hands gripped his hips and pulled him to the edge of the bed. “Walk to the wall with my dick in your ass.”

Tyler’s hard-on bent and tugged inside him as he moved. When he nearly reached the wall he stretched out his arms and braced himself, his upper body on an angle. “Give me more,” he begged.

“Darlin’, use one hand for support and use the other to fuck yourself. We’re gonna come together.” Tyler was so raw, so untamed. Every word he said in that sexy Southern drawl sparked life into his long-dormant body.

He wrapped a fist around his girth and pumped, matching the rhythm Tyler kept in his ass. It was exquisite. The double stimulation had his eyes rolling back in his head. Streaks of light passed by his vision and he felt the pressure building and building in his balls. His pending release would rival all others by his hand.

“Damn, you’re tight. You’re hugging my dick so tight I can’t hold off another second.” He growled behind him, a feral sound which only excited him. His cultivated, lackluster lifestyle in the city could never compare to this untamed abandon. “I’m gonna fill you with my seed, sweet thing.”


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THE BEST DAMNED THING by B.A. Tortuga

THE BEST DAMNED THING by BA Tortuga

A Charity Short Benefitting the It Gets Better Project

Jim sure doesn't want to get into the middle of it when the guys on his construction crew start messing with Collin, the new, and queer, guy in town. He will if he has to, though, because he doesn't believe in letting anyone call a man out for being gay. Foreman Walker doesn't like the idea any more than Jim does, but he's perfectly happy to let Jim get in the middle with him and Collin...

Author's Note: This is Torquere Press' Fourth Year of doing short stories for charity and I couldn't be more pleased to participate. I want to especially thank J. Rocci for all of her work and support of the project. It wouldn't have happened without her. You rock, sweetie!

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~Excerpt~

"Don't be a fuck, Jim. You want to fight or something?" Dale's Coke went down a little harder than his.

He twisted his lips. He'd fight if he had to. He didn't back down from assholes like Dale.

A huge, solid hand landed on his shoulder, and he knew it was Walker, the foreman. The boss stared at everyone, especially Jim and Cooter. "You asshats got issues?"

Listening to that voice made him shiver a little, deep inside. "Not me," Jim said, shaking his head. His cheek brushed the side of Walker's hand.

"Just seeing if old Jim here was a fudge packer like that little queer coming out of the coffee shop."

The hand on his shoulder didn't move. "Is Mr. Marten causing y'all problems?"

"What?" Dale looked like he was fixin' to swallow his tongue.

"Collin! You causing my boys problems?" The boss' voice rang out and Collin Marten stopped, looked over from across the way.

"Walker? Why on earth would I do that?" Collin took a step closer, and Cooter spit on the ground again.

"I'm going back to work; fucking fags."

"Watch your mouth, Cooter, or you can get your shit and go. I don't put up with that kind of crap on my crew, and you know it."

"I ain't working for a queer. You queer, Walker?"

Well, shit.

Jim stood there, his teeth in his mouth, trying to figure out what the fuck to do, to say before the shit hit the fan. He'd been subcontracting for Walker for five long years, and he'd never seen the man back down from a fight, never seen the man lose one, either. He'd never pondered Walker's sexuality too hard, either. That way lay madness.

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JUST WHAT THE DOCTOR ORDERED by J.M. Snyder

JUST WHAT THE DOCTOR ORDERED by J.M. Snyder

Curt, a college professor, lives with his lover of several years, a pediatrician of Chinese descent named Lee. Eager to write, he receives a grant to take the summer off and work on a novel. Then Lee's mother calls -- she wants to visit. Curt is eager to meet her but Lee isn't so sure ... she's of a different generation, a different culture even, and doesn’t speak much English. Still, Curt insists.

But when Mrs. Gui arrives, Curt finds himself struggling with writer’s block. He feels like an outsider in his own home when Lee and his mother converse in Cantonese, leaving him out of the conversation, and even his sex life suffers with her in the bedroom next to theirs. Can Curt and Mrs. Gui move past their cultural differences to see that they both love Lee and have his best interests at heart?

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EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.



By the time Lee returned I was already relaxing in the hot tub, head back, eyes closed, clothes gone, the water warm and welcome on my bare skin. The plates sat on a towel I had spread within reach, the steaks done to perfection, the shrimp still sizzling on the skewers. Red wine winked in our glasses, the champagne saved for later. I had no intention of leaving the water until absolutely necessary -- I planned on eating right where I was, leaning over the side of the tub if I had to.

When I heard the sliding door squeal faintly over the soothing sounds of Kenny G's soprano sax, I let myself sink a little further into the water, until the bubbles tickled my chin. "Well?" I asked with a slow smile. I heard the solid thud of a belt buckle hitting the floor and opened one eye to see my lover undressing by the side of the tub. "That your mom?"

"Yeah." His pants bunched at his ankles as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. In the last of the sunlight slipping through the blinds around us, his skin took on an olive tone, dark and exotic. His hair stood up in defiant clumps as if he had run his hands through it again and again while on the phone, something he always did when he was nervous or upset.

That bedraggled look told me more about the call than the forced smile on his face or the worried look in his eyes. "Everything alright?" I asked, concerned.

Kicking away his pants, he shrugged off his shirt and dropped it at his feet. The cuff of one sleeve brushed over the wine glasses before falling away. "Fine," he told me, but the way he didn't quite meet my gaze told me he knew I knew better. He hooked his thumbs into his briefs and, with the complete lack of modesty only a seasoned lover could feel, pushed them down his legs. He stepped out of them and into the hot tub, the steam beading on his body like sweat as he sank down until the water covered his slim shoulders. "She's fine," he murmured, gliding towards me.

Beneath the water, I felt his hand on my knee. It slid up my thigh as he closed the distance between us, but I caught it before it could tangle in the kinked hair at my crotch. "That's dessert," I told him. He laughed and let me reel him in, and I kissed his jaw as he sat down beside me. I wanted to take his mind off whatever his mother might have said and get it back where it belonged ... on me. So with a nod at the plates, I said, "Your dinner's getting cold."

"Yours too." He swam around me and pulled the towel with our plates on it a little closer to the tub. I watched his hands as he cut the steaks with sure movements, even and unhurried. In their calm I sensed a guarded wariness as if he had something on his mind and didn't want to ruin my evening with it. "So," he said, the knife working effortlessly. "Now when people ask what you do for a living, you can say you're a full-time writer. No, full-time author. By this time next year, Oprah will be knocking down our door to get a piece of you."

I laughed. Sidling up behind him, I wrapped my arms around his waist and let my fingers play against his inner thighs. An inch or two higher and ... the steak he was so carefully cutting wasn't the only thing I wanted to swallow down. "She can't have me yet," I teased. Like two pieces of a complex puzzle, our bodies locked together perfectly, the cleft of his buttocks fitting nicely against my hardening shaft. I kissed the nape of his neck and tasted sweat and chlorine. "Tonight I'm all yours."

"Didn't you say this was dessert?" Lee asked, wiggling his hips back into me.

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OLD STONES AND NEW WINE

OLD STONES AND NEW WINE by Carolina Valdez

"A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou." Omar Khayyám

Victimized by the con man he'd been married to, and grieving the death of a beloved dog, internationally known mystery writer Alan Brynton plunges into complete writers block. Needing the income, and desperate to meet his publisher's deadline, he leaves Los Angeles and rents a house in a village in the south of France. Beside the blue Rhone River, among lush vineyards in wineproducing Provence, he struggles to overcome his anger and grief to break the hold the block has on him.

When rescuing an injured dog, he meets and finds himself falling for the irresistibly charming Frenchman, Jacques Marchand. But Jacques has the same easy charm his ex had, and having been burned in his marriage, Alan no longer trusts his ability to know who a person really is. He can't risk being victimized again, but can he risk losing the intoxicating "new wine" Jacques is to him?


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...Jacques was dressed in a lightweight charcoal suit, white shirt and a tie patterned in gray and black with subtle touches of red in the design. He had the body for it, and he looked so good Alan felt his gut clench. His eyes on Alan’s, Jacques loosened the knot on his tie and tugged it loose, then slid the top button of his shirt through its buttonhole.

Alan hadn’t realized how sexy and stirring that simple movement could be. It was as devastating as any seductive Chippendales dance. His heart sputtered, then broke into a race. It clogged his throat as he watched Jacques shrug out of his suit coat and hang it beside the raincoat. Jacques ran his hands through his wet hair, and Alan’s dick responded to sudden, electric sparks of desire shooting right through him.

“I’ll get a towel.” Did he really sound so lame? Alan’s tongue had trouble forming words. His cock had no trouble filling and rising. He turned away and hurried to the bath.

Alan handed a white towel to Jacques, who dropped it over his dark hair and blotted with one hand, while his other reached for Alan and pulled him close.

“You look very sexy in your nightwear, Alan Brynton.” His gaze fell on Alan’s crotch. “I see you’re feeling sexy, too. I hope that’s all for me.”

His hand teased as it brushed over Alan’s cock before he leaned in and tilted his head enough to capture Alan’s mouth. Alan opened to him, forgetting to breathe as sensations rolled over him. The smell of Jacques’s cologne and the lingering taste of the rich wine he must’ve had for dinner made the moment real. He closed his hands over the butt he’d ridden behind and ached to touch only hours ago. The cheeks were hard and firm, but just soft enough to be squeezed. He pulled this lover tight against his groin, reveling in the stiff cock he felt enclosed in suit pants as it pressed against his.

“I’m at a disadvantage. I’m not wearing a shirt, but you are,” Alan said. He reached up and tugged until the tie’s knot came completely undone and the silky fabric fell to the floor. His hands found the rest of the buttons, and Jacques watched as his fingers slipped the rest of them out of their holes.

Jacques undid the last buttons at his wrists. He shifted restlessly as Alan pulled the shirt out of his trousers and then off his shoulders.

Alan pressed his lips to the pounding pulse beat in Jacques’s neck and grazed his skin with his teeth as he ran his hands down the pelt of dark hair covering the wide chest. He felt for a belt.

“I left it in the car.” Desire made Jacques’s voice unsteady.

Alan stilled. The impact of the words settled in. “You planned this.”

“I did, mon amour.”

Alan found his zipper, and Jacques stopped his hand. “Be very careful…my underwear’s with my belt.”

Alan thought his knees would give way with the need to hurry before he exploded and stained his pajamas. “In that case…” He slid his other hand inside and covered Jacques’s warm and inviting package as the zipper whispered its way down and his palm grew slick with pre-cum.

The towel joined the forgotten tie on the floor, and Jacques gasped at Alan’s touch. He tugged Alan’s nightwear down and spanned the smooth skin between Alan’s hipbones with his hands.

“Don’t stop there.” Alan drew in a sharp breath when fingertips and a thumb closed around his swollen and throbbing cock. In turn, he let Jacques’s low-hanging sac rest in his hand. He thumbed the shaven skin, outlining each egg-shaped orb as he caressed them.

Jacques’s hand was firm and sure as he stroked and pulled Alan’s cock up and down, making it difficult to concentrate on pleasuring Jacques when so much excitement was building in his own body. He felt echoing tremors begin in Jacques just when they surged in Alan. He squeezed the sac, felt it tighten until it was snug up against his body, and knowing Jacques was on the verge of coming, he wrapped his hand around his lover’s hard cock and pumped faster and faster...

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