Table of Contents

LOVING HIM
blurb
copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
About the Author
Trademarks Acknowledgment
MLR PRESS AUTHORS
GLBT RESOURCES

LOVING HIM

DIANA DERICCI

mlrpress

www.mlrpress.com

Hunter is on a solo-man honeymoon. Sam is on a

belated graduation trip to paradise. Deciding getting
drunk together beats doing it while across the bar
from each other, Sam offers a brotherly shoulder of
understanding when he learns just why Hunter is in
paradise alone.
A friendship blooms in a perfect tropical
playground where both can enjoy the adventures
waiting for them. Unfortunately, Sam soon learns
their friendship can be far more than he bargained
for when his feelings begin to have a say in it all.
Hunter is a great friend, but falling in love with a
straight man never works. The most he can expect is
the memories he plans to cherish.
Except Hunter may have something to say about
that.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents either are products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2012 by Diana DeRicci
All rights reserved, including the right of
reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Published by
MLR Press, LLC
3052 Gaines Waterport Rd.
Albion, NY 14411
Visit ManLoveRomance Press, LLC on the Internet:
www.mlrpress.com
Cover Art by Deana Jamroz
Editing by Kimberly Brandt
Ebook ISBN#978-1-60820-716-9
Issued 2012
This book is licensed to the original purchaser
only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright
Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook

cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part
of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without
the express permission of the publisher.

CHAPTER ONE

The gentle lap of the sea was a simple background

to the sound of chatter and glasses being moved and
filled. Laughter happened in bursts from the
surrounding tables on the patio and deck. The
scents of sun-heated sand and salt water were
strong, but after the three days Sam had already
been there, he’d grown used to them. The sun had
set and the torches had been lit, giving a romantic
glow to the few walls, which was lost on him.
Sam watched the blond hunk from across the bar,
a sad state of entertainment, in reality. It was the
third night Sam had seen the same guy, in the same
spot, on the same stool, doing the exact same thing.
Sitting there, sulking, and rolling a gold band
between his fingers. The guy drank until he could
barely walk, then slithered back to his room to
vanish until the next afternoon. Considering they
were supposed to be in the decadence of the Pacific,
it was utterly sad both of them were doing
essentially the exact same shit. Drinking themselves
drunk to pass the time until they had to return to
real world bullshit.

Sam couldn’t take it anymore.
He motioned to the bartender, bringing him
closer. “What’s he been drinking?” He hooked his
chin in the other man’s direction.
“Whiskey sours.”
“Okay, set him up.”
“You got it.”
Like the bartender cared one way or the other.
The beauty of All-Inclusive, he guessed. He
sometimes forgot that. Sam drew a breath, slid off
his stool, and approached the big blond. Quietly, he
took the empty stool at his side and nodded when
the fresh drink appeared in front of the silent,
brooding guy.
The guy at his shoulder apparently noticed the
fresh drink even if he didn’t care about the body
invading his private space. “I didn’t order this.”
“I did. Seemed a waste to sit and drink alone in
the same damn bar.”
Blondie grunted. “I guess.” He drew it close,
gulped a bit then set it down. “Thanks.”
“I’m Sam Rooney.” He held out a hand, waiting.

“Hunter Reece.” A firm handshake. What Sam
hadn’t expected was the frisson of energy sparking
in his palm. He held no illusions the man next to
him was straight. The slip in his libido wasn’t even a
tick on Hunter’s radar.
That was fine. Sam wasn’t looking for a hook up
or sex. He was, plainly put, sick of being alone every
day.
All. Damned. Day.
Decadence had gotten old after the first thirty-six
hours.
Sam sipped liquor through his straw, absorbing
the pungent coconut milk and rum like a sponge.
He was getting good at it, too.
Hunter tapped the broad gold band on the bar,
palming the drink in his other hand. A moment
later, he practically drained the refilled glass without
breathing.
“Wow. Your liver is going to hate you.”
Hunter only shrugged. “What’s one more?”
Sam shifted on his seat. He slid off his flip-flops
to settle his bare heels on the cool stretch bar of the

stool, ready for the long haul. “Okay, what
happened?”
Hunter gave him a sideways glower. “Don’t want
to talk about it.”
“Well, getting drunk as a skunk every night is
doing wonders for you, too.” He lifted his own
drink and toasted Hunter. Propping himself on the
bumper of the bar with an elbow, he waited Hunter
out. It wasn’t like he had anything exciting lined up.
“Shit.” Hunter hissed. Then he bottomed out the
drink. He waggled the empty glass and requested a
fresh one. “She walked out two days before the
wedding.”
He winced. “Fuck. So you’re on a one-man
honeymoon?”
Hunter sucked the last drops from the glass as the
bartender prepped his newest, then shook himself
like a dog coming out of the rain. “Yeah.”
“That truly sucks.”
“That’s only half of it,” Hunter griped. With a
little lubrication and an apparent welcoming ear, it
seemed he was very willing to purge, whether he had

wanted to or not. “She ran off with a friend’s
brother.”
Sam groaned. How cliché. “Please tell me he wasn’t
the best man.”
Hunter ran a finger under his lip, contemplating
his drink. “No, just a friend.”
“Who now is on the shoot to kill list, I take it?”
He rolled a beefy shoulder in answer. “I don’t
give a shit. I really don’t.” He twisted to stare
dubiously at Sam. “She gave the worst goddamned
head on the planet. I’m more glad we didn’t actually
go through with it now, but it sucks that we got this
far at all.” He said it like he should have known
better. He sucked on his drink, playing with an ice
cube before crunching it to swallow it down. “I
wanted to think love was love, it would someday be
wonderful. The sex would rock my world.” He
huffed a disillusioned curse. “It’s all make-believe.
There is no such thing. It’s a Hallmark sales ploy.
Shoulda listened to Dad,” he muttered, taking
another drink.
Sam didn’t think so, but he wasn’t going to argue
semantics with Hunter. He wasn’t in the frame of

mind to believe it.
His own parents had been together eight years
before they adopted him when he was three and a
half. He loved his dads, though he could agree; it
wasn’t all roses and picnics. He’d seen them suffer,
seen them hurt. He’d also seen them love, seen them
support each other, holding all the kids together
with a bottomless strength, in the way only a family
could. He never regretted being adopted by them. In
fact, being with them had actually been immensely
helpful when he had begun to suspect he was gay as
well. He’d known they would completely understand
and appreciate what he’d been going through.
He hunkered down on the ledge of brotherly
understanding with Hunter. “Eh. From what I
understand, women are fickle. If you’re not packing
like King Dong, then they’re not going to be
happy.”
Hunter turned enough for Sam to see the arch of
one honey-blond eyebrow. “From what you
understand? What are you, a virgin?” Hunter
cackled, the depth of his own inebriated state clear.
“Oh, trust me,” Sam purred, giving him a laser-

eyed stare from beneath his lashes. “I’m not a
virgin.” Sam leaned back so Hunter wouldn’t feel
like he was being played. “I’m gay. Never touched a
woman. They give me the ick.” A dramatic,
flamboyant shudder quaked Sam’s shoulders.
Hunter blinked then tossed his head back and
roared in laughter. “Oh, God!” He was gasping
when he finally scrubbed his eyes with the heels of
his hands to catch the moisture in them. “‘The ick.’
Oh fuck. I’m using that! I swear I am.”
“Go for it. It’s not trademarked.” Sam smiled for
the bartender, which got him two new drinks. He
was going to float out of here tonight at the rate he
was going. He wondered absently if the resort
offered floatation devices from the bars.
He patted his pocket, making sure he had his
room key. So long as he had it somewhere, he was
okay.
Two fresh glasses appeared, his with a slice of
pineapple on the rim. He popped it off and sucked
it between his lips to nibble at the flesh. He moaned
in sheer pleasure. “Love fresh pineapple.” He did
manage to not eat the rind. He slurped his piña

colada, wallowing in the heat as the rum hit his
stomach. “Mm. That is some good shit.” He raised
his glass to the bartender who gave him a wave,
covering other customers across the bar.
“Here. Try a shot of this.” Hunter held his glass
out.
Shrugging, Sam set his down and took a healthy
sip of his. He purred. “Wow! Those are good!” He
licked his lips. “What else do you recommend?” If
he was going to get plastered, by God, Sam was
going to enjoy it.
Hunter laced his fingers together and flexed them
backward, getting several to pop. “I majored in
mixology in college.”
Sam snorted a rough laugh. “Isn’t that just a nice
way of saying you drank your way through it?”
“And you didn’t?” Hunter scoffed.
“Nah. I did online college courses. I worked with
my dads, so leaving to go to a big school full time
wasn’t really on the table.”
“Your dads? You’re really gay?”
Sam paused in drawing a sip from his drink. “As

opposed to being really straight?”
Hunter held up a flat palm. “No offense.” He
tapped his temple. “Remember. Drunk and stupid
tend to room together.”
Sam chuckled. He bumped shoulders with
Hunter. “I think we’re going to be real good
friends.”
“That’s good, because I can’t drive home now. I
think I’m drunk.”
It took a solid five seconds for Sam to get it, but
he almost spewed his drink when he did.
“Man! Don’t do that! Breathing and drinking are
supposed to be done as separate actions.”
Hunter simply gave him a cocked grin and a
rolled shoulder.
Oh man, this one was trouble. Sam could tell.
“So, what are you doing here?” Hunter slid the
gold ring he held onto a forefinger up to the first
knuckle. At least he’d stopped playing with it.
“It was a belated graduation present. Popo and
Dad told me if I finished and got my degrees, they’d
do something fun for me. It took about two years

longer than I wanted to get through the courses
while working with them, but I wouldn’t trade it for
anything.”
“That’s nice. Of your dads, I mean,” Hunter said.
“What do they do?”
Sam licked his lips after taking a very unhealthy
drink. He shivered as cold sliced down his middle to
land in his stomach. “Run an import company
together. Popo is a buyer and Dad is the business
mind. They put it together and violá, one small
business success. Of course, labor is cheap for them.
They have four kids.” Sam chuckled.
“Four? But…” Hunter’s brow furrowed. His
befuddled expression was adorable as hell.
Sam gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. A
good shove from either would send them both to
the floor. “We’re all adopted. I’m the oldest, then
there’s Gene and Mickey, twins and poor, little
Jonathon.” Not so little any more. The tiny terror
was now in his teens.
“Wow. They must be saints.” Hunter seemed very
impressed.

“Nah, just a couple of really great guys who took

in some kids no one else wanted.” Sam waved it off.
Four kids who found themselves part of a very
awesome family.
“My dad helped me buy my first car.”
“That’s cool.”
“She’s such a bitch,” Hunter snarled under his
breath.
Sam shifted gears to keep up. “O-kay. Does the
Queen of Bitchiness have a name?”
“Stefani.”
Oh, yeah. Not Stephanie, but Ste-fawn-i. “Like
that chick from No Doubt?”
Hunter nodded. “Yeah, and not even as pretty.”
He swallowed a large dose of numbness, almost
emptying his glass. “We dated in school, then got
serious in college. I thought this was it, y’know?
About a year ago, she met Tim through work. They
hit it off when she learned we both knew Tim’s
brother. I never saw this coming.”
Sam curled a hand over Hunter’s shoulder in
solidarity. “Hey. Better now than five years down

the road with two kids, a house, and a minivan to
muck it all up.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself.” He grasped
the next drink when it slid in front of him.
“Apparently they started screwing pretty quickly.
She said she had no idea how bad I was because I
was her first.”
Sam’s balls shriveled in sympathy. He lowered a
hand to rub the heel over his quivering prick. Easy,
pal. Not you. “Oh, man. That’s low.” No man wants
to hear they ranked that low in the sack, whether it’s
true or not.
“Maybe she’s right,” Hunter grumbled morosely.
“Was the sex ever good?”
“Maybe, five or six years ago, when I was still too
horny to care.”
“Shit, Hunter.” He twisted on his seat. “I’m going
to channel my inner Dr. Phil here, so if you don’t
want to answer, you don’t have to, okay?”
He shrugged, too drunk and falling back into his
pained depression to obviously catch on to Sam’s
intent. One thing Sam wasn’t was subtle.

“Have you had sex with anyone else?”
“Two others. Girls during the times we weren’t
together,” Hunter answered, either unconcerned or
too drunk to know what he was answering. Hunter
gave him a skeptical eye. “Just because I’m telling
you, doesn’t mean I’m going to admit to shit
tomorrow.”
Okay, maybe he was sorta aware. “Fair enough.”
Sam leaned closer. “How was the sex with the
others?”
“Fun, I guess,” Hunter mumbled, looking down,
and likely into some point of his past.
Huh. Just fun? That was a definite lackluster reply.
“What turns you on?”
“Excuse me?” Hunter’s eyes shot wide. Sam
wished he could tell their color. They were a very
dark shade, but he wasn’t sure if it was blue or black
in the bar’s lights.
Sam propped his chin on a fist. “You heard me.”
“Sam, I’m not gay.”
“And I’m not saying you are,” he remarked in the
same disgusted, flat tone. “Want to know what my

degree is in?” Explaining it should help clear his
new friend’s conscience. Sam slurped a sip of his
drink while he waited for Hunter’s curiosity to win
out.
“Okay, what’s your degree?” Hunter asked in a
humoring way.
“I have a Bachelor’s in Sexual Health, Psychology,
and Physiology. I also have an Associate degree in
Business.” Sam had a knack at helping people work
through their problems. With his dads in mind, he
had chosen the second degree to do something to
help pay them back. A way of saying thank you for
the years of love and support they’d shown him, and
to be able to help them at the store. He was still
undecided on how he’d use the Bachelor’s, whether
he’d use it for teaching or social services. His
avenues were open.
“Wow.” Hunter saluted him. “Color me
impressed.”
“So, answer the question. What turns you on?”
Sam kept his expression utterly serene.
Sam let the silence lengthen, ignoring the ebb and
flow of the other patrons and the lap of the water

from the sea practically beneath their feet. He didn’t
even know what time it was, but that was the beauty
of the resort. They didn’t want you to know the time.
“Touch.”
Sam almost didn’t catch the one word it took so
long for him to answer. “Did she do that for you?”
Hunter’s cheeks fired a bright red, his lips
forming into a tight line. A sharp head shake was his
answer.
“So she expected you to do all the work?”
Hunter ducked his head. “I guess.”
He dipped a little closer to make sure Hunter
heard him, keeping his voice low and his tone
comforting. “There’s nothing wrong with you. She
was selfish. Sex is a two-way street. If you weren’t
loving it, she was loving it even less, which meant
there was no way you could enjoy it enough to make
it good for either of you.” Sam was sure that
included the lack of enthusiasm in giving the man a
blowjob. Sam could definitely show him a thing or
two in that department. He pushed the idea out of
range, getting back on track to help Hunter. “I don’t

know her, don’t care to, but I get the feeling you
tried for her, except you stopped enjoying it when
there wasn’t any reciprocation. Am I close?” Sam
didn’t wait for him to try to answer. It wasn’t
needed. It was only a thinking point. “Sex should
never be a duty. It’s a very bonding act.”
“I’m not even sure she even ever…” Hunter
twisted to look the other way in sheer avoidance.
“It’s okay, man. Time to move on and find what
you really want and someone who will give you
what you need. I know you’re not ready to hear it,
but tying yourself to that kind of relationship would
have destroyed the both of you.”
“You make it sound like it’s all possible.”
Sam reached and squeezed Hunter’s hand.
“Because I believe it is out there for me, for
everyone. I was raised with two great role models
when it came to what real love and companionship
means. What about your parents?”
Hunter jerked from beneath his palm and slid
unsteadily to his feet. “Good-bye, Sam.”
Sam’s eyes popped open in boggled surprise,

following Hunter as he faded into the unlit shadows
of the pathways meandering from the bar on the
cove to the bungalows.
“Shit. What did I say?”

CHAPTER TWO

Sam tried to sleep. He did. After Hunter’s abrupt

exit, he’d had a couple more sips then decided he
didn’t have the interest in getting wasted drunk
again. He still had six? — seven? — days to
accomplish it and more if he wanted to.
He rolled over on his bed, the open window
giving him a full view of the endless ocean lit like a
party dance floor with the spray of the moon
stretching corner to corner, the milky white
undulating in light ripples with the current. With a
grunt of disgust, he tossed off the covers and
grabbed his shorts, putting them on over his boxers.
He ran a hand over his head, pushing his hair
around more than making it look neater, he was
sure.
He sniffed at the shirt he’d worn earlier and
satisfied it didn’t require fumigation, slipped it over
his head. Pocketing his room key, he hunted in the
semi-dark for his flip-flops.
Sam had explored a few of the common areas,
mostly during the day, or he’d lain on the beach.

The night time had to give it a different view, right?
Plus with a big ol’ moon hanging there, it was like
he was wasting the time sleeping in his room.
He followed the crushed shell path to the beach,
then glanced in both directions. Even with the late
hour or early morning, depending, there were a few
couples still hanging out, walking hand in hand.
Sam appreciated the trip. He really did, but
seriously…he was so out of place here. A single, gay
man in the middle of the Pacific. Maybe Dad
thought this would be a step up from Cancun or
something, he mused to himself. Cancun did have
the party reputation, he supposed. Party versus
class? Sam did know if he ever had the chance, he
was going to send his dads on a trip like this one. It
was made for them. All romance and closeness and
fun when they wanted it. A slight wave of
homesickness smacked him but he ignored it. He’d
be going home soon enough. He stuffed his fingers
into his pockets to walk without direction.
The booze buzz he’d had earlier was long gone,
and he was probably going to be starving in a few
hours. Aside from the liquor, they weren’t

scrimping on the food for their guests either. Maybe
instead of sleeping in, he should go for a run or see
if they had a gym. He was pretty sure he
remembered seeing something about one in the
brochures. Though whoever bothered with a
workout regimen on a vacation like this…was
obviously only him.
Sam followed the beach, torches lighting the way,
sort of. They were a good twenty-five feet to his
right with wet sand at his left. Ahead he could
almost make the outlined outcropping of rocks in
the distance, a shadow on a shadow beneath a bower
of swaying palm trees and who knew what else. The
scent of island flowers grew stronger the closer he
got. Did flowers bloom at night? The question
flitted through his mind as he walked, no real
direction or purpose to his steps.
It wasn’t until he was close enough to start
climbing the rocks that he noticed the movement.
Then the distinct sound of glass tapping against
rock as it was settled into place. Two paces and
trying a little harder to focus answered his own
internal questions.

“Not to spoil your party, but I don’t think they
allow glass out here.”
“Not going to break it,” was the slurred answer.
Sam watched as Hunter petted the unsteady bottle
where he pinned it between his thighs. He sat with
his bare legs stretched out, one sandal missing, the
other face down like a dead fish a few feet away. His
blond hair was skewed, the breeze tugging at it to
fall over his eyes.
Sam sighed. The poor man looked utterly
shattered.
Then Sam caught what Hunter held: the heavy
gold band, rolling it like a quarter over his fingers.
Sam crouched by his side. “That’s pretty damned
impressive for being drunk out of your mind.”
Hunter didn’t reply, just kept rocking the ring
back and forth. Then, with a harsh snarl, he fisted
the ring, cocked his arm and shouted, “Fuck you!”
as he pitched it into the sea.
“Oh, damn,” Sam breathed. He prayed the man
wasn’t going to regret it in the morning. The plink
of metal hitting water was faint, but left no doubt

he’d meant it.
“Been wanting —wanting to do that since she
walked out.” He snorted, or something, but it wasn’t
very attractive coming from a drunk man. “At least
since she said she’d been fucking Tim and he could
give her fucking orgasms.”
“God, Hunter.” Sam began to look around, trying
to figure out how to safely get them both off the
rock and Hunter into a bed without killing either of
them. Or becoming chum for the local fishy
populations.
“Fucking slut,” Hunter bitched for all the night
to hear. He snatched the bottle around the neck and
propped it to his lips, sucking a swig any pirate
would have been proud of. “She used to laugh
because I couldn’t always get hard. Can you believe
that?”
Sam’s eyebrows flew up, but he didn’t respond.
He knew when to keep his mouth shut.
“Just need Viagra,” he sniped in a definite
feminine harpy tone, waving the hand with the
bottle in punctuation. Liquor sloshed but didn’t
spill. “I’m twenty-fucking-seven. Don’t need no

fucking cock drugs.”
“Okay. Time to give it a rest. You need to let me
have the bottle —”
“Fuck you!” Hunter shoved at Sam’s shoulder,
tossing him on his ass.
“Ouch! Prick! This rock hurts!”
Sam flattened a palm to the rock to push up, only
he couldn’t. Hunter was leaning over him, a flash of
shame and worry in his eyes. He squinted, as though
trying to make his brain and his mouth work in the
same vein. “Sam? Are you okay? I’m sorry. Never
hurt anyone.”
“I’m fine, you Viking oaf.” Sam relinquished the
rock and braced his hand on Hunter’s chest instead
to get him to back off. A very hard, well-muscled
chest. No! Don’t go there. He forced himself to focus
on the moment, and the fact Hunter needed help,
and direly, a friend. “Come on, Hunter. Let me up.”
It seemed to take an eternity before Hunter finally
did something, but it wasn’t to let him up. The
entire time they hung suspended and not moving,
heat flowed from Hunter’s chest to Sam’s hand.

Maybe it was the alcohol causing the skin where he
touched to burn like the sun in the way it scorched
Sam until he felt like he was the one still drunk. He
really had no way to know, but he felt it. Hot
enough to make his heart trip.
His tongue darted out to his bottom lip, his
breath catching. Don’t do it, Sam. He’s drunk. Gonna
regret this.
But when Sam’s gaze glided down the hard chest
to the flat stomach, taking in all the inches of
Hunter, he almost swallowed his own tongue when
he found what he’d hoped he wouldn’t.
A bulging tent in Hunter’s shorts that made his
mouth water. He whimpered.
“Sam?” Hunter’s voice was confused. Still drunk,
but so, so damned deep and good to hear.
He battled hard for the voice of reason. “You
need to move. Need to —”
“You’re touching me,” he croaked.
Sam ripped his hand away, appalled he was as
turned on with the miniscule contact. “You’re
drunk. Things are different when you’re drunk.”

Hunter’s hand shook like a branch in a winter
wind when he lifted it, seizing Sam’s again. “I’m not
gay.” He stared at the hand he held, frozen.
Sam didn’t dare move too fast, not wanting to set
him off, or cause him to do something to hurt
himself while he was so obviously not capable of
coherent awareness.
“How…” Hunter’s hold on Sam’s hand was
gentle, careful. “Earlier. Same thing. You…my
hand…like this.” Confusion twisted his face as he
studied his own frame. “Did that before,” Hunter
mumbled. “Never like this.”
Oh, fuck. Sam was going insane. “Hunter, listen to
me. You are drunk. You need to sleep this off.
You’re not gay.”
“No. Not gay,” he repeated, though his words
were slurred and not very convinced. Then Hunter
did something Sam really couldn’t prepare himself
for.
Hunter inched to hang over Sam’s chest, placing
Sam’s captured palm flat to his body. Sam grew
supple, unable to look away, or fight him and

though he feared he knew what was going to
happen, he silently craved it. Knew he was going to
regret the fuck out of it too.
“Hunter,” he tried one last time, shivering as the
world vanished. There was nothing anywhere but
Hunter holding his hand captive, sliding it over a
strong shoulder, pressing them closer. Sam’s fingers
burned. Neither blinked. His hand was urged lower,
so cautiously. Breathing grew to pants, sips of air.
The sense of discovery was euphoric, magnetic. Sam
was drawn to Hunter like the rise of the sea meeting
sand. Inevitable.
Fingertips felt the change of terrain, from the
cotton of Hunter’s T-shirt to the khaki of his cargo
shorts.
Hunter’s eyes blazed above him, grew dark with
lust. Sam didn’t dare move, didn’t dare touch him
more even though he screamed inside to dig fingers
into the sway of golden hair, to hold him as much a
prisoner as Sam was Hunter’s.
“Touch me, Sam,” Hunter pleaded. “Feels good.”
“Hunter, don’t do this. You’re drunk —oomph.”

Hunter’s mouth was hot, hungry, skilled. Sam

reacted, closing the millimeters of distance in pure
needing, blind response. Then he moaned, a deep,
sexy rumble. Sam massaged his length, shivering at
the heat, the thickness filling his hand and then
some.
Hovering above him, Hunter writhed in answer.
Then his fingers delved into Hunter’s hair and
nothing could hold Sam back. Hunter’s hair was
silken and heavy in his palm as he gripped onto the
man braced over him.
Hunter’s hips jerked, grinding and Sam gave him
what he needed, the litany of he’s drunk, he’s not gay,
he won’t remember, he’s not gay, replaying in his head on
a loop. He could only pray he was right because
Sam was hot on Hunter’s heels with his own
orgasm. He really didn’t want Hunter to know he
was driving Sam insane with the spontaneity of this
stolen moment. And gay or not, drunk or not, he
was very attracted to the big, blond guy.
Flesh firmed and pulsed with its own heartbeat,
heat bleeding through fabric into Sam’s caging
palm. Sam shifted, getting enough leverage to hump

against Hunter’s thigh. Hunter shuddered and
growled, surprising Sam again by lining them up
better so Sam’s hand was caught between them; yet
giving Sam the hard playground of Hunter’s hip to
find his pleasure.
“Oh, fuck.” Hunter gasped, breaking free of the
kiss. “Shit! Yesss.”
Hunter’s fingertips dug into Sam’s scalp and Sam
threw himself head first into the building pressure.
Lightning arced down his spine with a zing of
pleasure.
Sam wasn’t sure who came first, not that it really
mattered. Hunter’s groan was no less than a muted
roar as his seed pumped through the thick rod
grinding into Sam’s hand. Sam cried out, muffling it
with Hunter’s shoulder, his body tingling as his
orgasm surged through his length, emptying into his
shorts in answer.
He groaned, melted. For a few minutes of
cocooned bliss, he laid there beneath Hunter’s
weight, oblivious to everything, refusing to allow
the regrets to start.
Not just yet.

CHAPTER THREE

Hunter moaned. Not a simple oh shit, what did I do

groan, but a groan that was a plea to every deity he
could think of to stop the battle of bass drums
between his ears. Hunter’s seeking fingers dug
around and latched onto a pillow. Slowly, he
discovered he was on his stomach, on a bed, still
dressed. Though how long it took for him to come
to those conclusions, he honestly didn’t know.
He was alive, breathing, and apparently
somewhere safe. The last thing he remembered from
the night before was sketchy at best. He knew he’d
been drunk. So very drunk.
He blinked, tugging at the pillow to cushion his
head, a miserable and pissed at him head. Leaving
his eyes closed, he tried to remember, but after a few
seconds of stress-filled pounding between his
temples, he stopped. He snuggled carefully into the
cool pillow and sighed.
“Hey, you’re alive,” a humored voice whispered
from above him.
Hunter cracked a dry eye. He didn’t recognize the

guy standing over him.
“Was wondering if you were ever coming up for
air.”
A motion out of sight made Hunter adjust the
direction of his gaze. A glass of water and a man’s
palm splayed with two pills lowered before him.
“I think this will help.”
Ever so carefully, Hunter planted his hands
beneath his shoulders and gingerly pushed himself
upright to sit on the edge of the bed. The room
spun and he closed his eyes. A hand on his shoulder
helped to steady him.
“Easy. You really tanked yourself last night.”
“Where am I? Who —Who are you?”
The pleasant smile on the guy’s face drooped a
fraction then returned. “I guess that’s to be
expected. You were already drunk when we met. I’m
Sam. We talked for a bit in the bar, then I found
you sobbing on the beach. You more or less passed
out over a bottle so I brought you to my bungalow.
I couldn’t get a straight answer to get you to yours.”
Sam shrugged, like it was no big deal.

It still made Hunter feel like a heel. It looked like
he’d kicked Sam out of his bed. “Sorry, man.”
“Eh, it’s okay.” He waggled his fingers,
redirecting Hunter to the aspirins in his palm. “Not
the hair of the dog, but they should help.”
Hunter shoved a hand through his hair. “What
was I drinking?”
“Before or after you left the bar?” Sam smirked at
him.
“Oh, Christ. Really?” He scrubbed his face with
rough hands, blearily getting up to speed. “Never
mind.” He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know,
verbatim. He accepted the glass and the pills,
downing them with a rough swallow. Hunter was
sure he wasn’t imagining the reeking stench, proof
he was more alcohol than blood at the moment.
“Sorry to put you out. I’m guessing this is your
bed.”
“You’d be right, but it wasn’t a big deal. I bunked
on the couch.”
Hunter managed to keep the next apologetic
groan inside. He couldn’t remember a time he’d ever

b e e n that wasted, where he couldn’t remember
anything beyond walking out of his own room the
day before. The lone memory was hanging in his
mind with a big question mark over it. “What time
is it?”
“Not quite two in the afternoon.”
Hunter gazed up at Sam in shock. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, you were pretty shot.”
He did the hand-meet-hair thing again, then
managed to command his sorry ass to stand on his
own two feet. Sam propped him with a supporting
arm when he rocked. “I’m sorry, Sam. Thanks for,
well, whatever. Didn’t mean to ruin any of your
trip.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I know you don’t remember, but
we’re cool, okay? Friends. Why don’t you go get
cleaned up and we can do a light dinner?”
Hunter frowned, confused and nowhere near up
to speed yet. And shit, why was this guy so happy
and helpful? “Aren’t you here with someone?”
“Nope. I’ll tell you all about it again, later.” Sam
reached for the pen and small hotel pad by the room

phone and wrote his room extension down. “If you
want, call me when you’re ready to eat. If not, I
understand.”
Hunter took the slip of paper and folded it into
one of his pockets. Searching the room, he was
trying to figure out what to do next when Sam
nudged him. “Your sandal is by the front door. I
never found the other one.”
“Do they have coffee in these rooms?”
“Yeah. Do you want some?”
Hunter cautiously shook his head, glad when it
didn’t unhinge. He’d make it in his own room, after
a shower. He gazed questioningly at Sam. Geez,
everything was a black fog from the night before.
“Did I do something…crazy…last night?”
Sam’s cheery façade fell like a stone. Brown eyes
grew shuttered. “Crazy, how?”
“I…I don’t know.” He had a feeling he did
something really, really stupid last night. He’d worry
about it later. “Here.” He wrote down his room
number. “No promises on dinner, but maybe
breakfast. Not sure I can.” Sleeping another twelve

hours really might be the best medicine.
Sam’s smile warmed again, reaching deep into his
eyes. “I understand.”
He stepped out of the way, pointing toward the
bedroom door and gave Hunter a path to leave the
room. And there by the door was one black Adidas
sandal. “Crap.” He had no idea where he lost the
other. He stooped and hooked it with a finger.
“Thanks for saving this.”
“I looked for the other.” Sam opened the door.
“The main walkway is out and to your left. The rest
of the resort should be easy from there.”
“Okay. And thanks, Sam.” He still felt like
something was being left unsaid, or…something. He
really needed more sleep. His head was whirring like
a jet engine between his ears; thunderous in volume
and intensity.
Leaving Sam’s, he staggered to where his own
bungalow waited. An empty one. He let out a
pained breath, walking through the door leaving the
outside world, dropping the sandal from numb
fingers once inside. He took in the bed with the
gauze hanging from the canopy to guard the sleeper

from bugs if they needed it. A bed he was supposed
to be spending his honeymoon in.
He sank to the edge of the still made bed. He’d
hardly slept in it since he’d checked in. What was
the point? “Some honeymoon,” he groused. He dug
a hand into his front pocket, finding the slip of
paper with Sam’s name and room number and
paused, staring at the handwriting. He seemed nice
enough, Hunter supposed. Dropping it on the
stand, Hunter tried again, but didn’t find anything
else in the pocket. He panicked when he didn’t find
it in any other pocket.
Jerking to his feet, he patted himself down and
cried out with a pained shout of disbelief when
there was nothing. He’d had it! Hunter had been
carrying that goddamned ring for over a week now.
Where was it?
Oh fuck! Collapsing to the bed, he snatched the
phone and following the directions, called Sam’s
room.
“Lunatic’s lounge.”
“Huh?”

“Oh, hey Hunter. You okay?” The humor, which

had greeted Hunter, was immediately replaced by
distinct worry.
Hunter shook himself, still not working at full
capacity. “Did you see a ring? A heavy gold band?”
The silence killed Hunter when Sam didn’t
answer right away. He was beginning to think the
sick feeling he had was for a reason he wasn’t going
to like.
“Um, Hunter. You don’t remember anything
about last night, do you?”
“No. Oh God! What happened?” He covered his
face, feeling bile begin to roll upward from his
stomach.
“You threw it into the ocean last night.”
“Oh, fuck. No! Please, tell me I didn’t.” Hunter
was going to be in so much shit.
“Yeah, you did. One hell of an arm you have
there.”
The phone hit the nightstand, falling out of an
unresponsive hand when his stomach came through
on its promise, trying to vacate through his nose. He

lurched for the bathroom blindly.

§

§

§

“Hunter? Hunter!” Sam waited, but there was
nothing after the clunk of sound. “Hunter!” He
waited another couple of seconds. “Shit.” He hung
up the phone and skipped into his flip-flops. He
stole a quick look for Hunter’s room number and
then darted out his door. People whizzed by as he
rushed to Hunter’s.
He listened, then tapped on the door. “Hunter?
Hunter? Damn it, open up.” Then, because he
couldn’t wait for the man to materialize when he
was likely dying on the floor, Sam gripped the knob
and pushed, thrilled when it opened a crack,
noticing the lone sandal had stopped the door from
closing tight. “Hunter!”
Pained moans echoed from the bedroom.
Worrying his lip between his teeth, Sam did what
any friend would do. Went to the aid of a man
who’d done something he was going to live to
regret.
Sam knew perfectly well how it felt. There was no

quantifier of how much he regretted what happened
between them the night before. And he hadn’t had
the really bad excuse of being drunk, either.
“Damn,” Sam said, finding Hunter curled up on
the floor in the bathroom. He flushed the toilet and
grabbed a washcloth to dampen it. “If you don’t
come out of this soon, I’m going to call the main
offices for help. I think you’ve got alcohol
poisoning.”
Hunter shivered, but shook his head. He almost
sobbed. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” He was nearly
shouting it. “Going to kill me.”
“Come on, up you go.” Sam hooked him under a
shoulder and eased him to lean against the tub.
“Kill you over what?” He wiped Hunter’s wan face.
He stayed crouched at his side, watching over him.
“The ring. I’m dead.”
“Why? She left you, right?”
Hunter’s eyes were big in his pale face when he
opened them to stare right through Sam.
“Grandfather’s ring.”
“Oh.” That made Sam wince. “I’m so sorry.”

Taking in his current disheveled state, Sam made an
executive decision. “Stay put.” He rose and started
the shower. Maybe in his state of mind, Hunter
wouldn’t notice the other really stupid thing he’d
done last night. He could pray, because it was one
question Sam couldn’t answer truthfully.
With the rush of water heating, Sam stooped then
poked and prodded Hunter out of his clothes,
dropping them on the floor outside the bathroom
door. “In you go, Viking guy.” Sam would stay until
he was out of the shower and in bed, and then he’d
let the man do what he came to do: forget, curse his
now-ex or whatever and stay out of his periphery.
Hunter didn’t need more issues, and honestly, the
more time Sam spent with him, the more he liked
Hunter.
Except he wasn’t gay.
Sam sighed, glad the splash of water hid it.

§

§

§

Sam walked through the resort, a towel slung
over his shoulder, sneakers instead of sandals on his
feet. Sweat made his shirt cling, though it was

drying now. A shower, then a swim with a little
relaxation after. He was finally getting the hang of
this decadent vacation thing. Fleetingly, his mind
kept wandering back to worry over Hunter, but he
didn’t let himself linger. He couldn’t. Thinking
about him was dangerous territory, and he knew it.
Palm fronds swayed and rattled overhead, and
large flowers hung like vibrant jewels on deep green
bushes along the walkway. There hadn’t been a
single cloud in the sky since he’d arrived. Definitely
sending his dads here. He’d get Gene and Mickey to
pitch in, maybe Jonathon if he had a job to help pay
by then. Make it a joint effort from all of them for
the both of their dads. He doubted this was
something he could do by himself for two. His mind
was doing calculations, trying to remember when
their next big anniversary was when a Frisbee came
popping out over the shrubs.
He bent and snatched it off the ground, tossing it
to the couple on the other side with a smile.
“Thanks!” a young blonde woman called with a
wave.
“Welcome.” Sam smiled, watching as she tackled

her guy for a kiss. He wasn’t the type for women,
but seeing people in love did make him warm inside.
Walking away, he couldn’t help but wonder how
much of last night’s angst filled ramblings were
drunken bursts of insanity, or if Hunter truly
believed love was a joke and sex was only supposed
to be sex. Obviously the ex-bitch hadn’t been doing
jack shit for him. And who the hell laughs at a man
when he has erectile issues? He growled low in his
throat. That was just dirty and mean.
The man had no problem last night; that was for
sure.
Tingles erupted on his skin and he curled his
fingers into a fist to hold the sensation close. He
wished he could be truly sorry. He did regret it. It
hadn’t been fair to Hunter, but it wasn’t like he
forced Hunter to kiss him.
He wobbled on his next step and he focused,
cursing at himself. Yeah, so the man was an
incredible kisser. He had also been drunk beyond all
hope. FUBAR to the nth degree. Hell, he’d tossed
his grandfather’s wedding band into the Pacific
Ocean. He hadn’t been thinking at all beyond

getting off, and the sad part was Sam hadn’t been
strong enough to keep it from happening.
At least Hunter didn’t remember any of it. He’d
left Hunter in his own room a few hours ago after
making sure he was in bed comfortable. Sam still
wasn’t convinced Hunter hadn’t caused himself
harm with all that he’d consumed, but when he’d
stumbled out of the shower, naked, half hard, and
more delicious than divinity, Sam knew it was time
to get the hell out. Now.
He’d ordered Hunter into bed and then, tucking
his tail between his legs to keep the rest of last night
hidden, he’d run. He really doubted Hunter would
want to speak to him again. Sam had seen him in
some very vulnerable ways.
So there wasn’t a bigger shock for him than
finding Hunter waiting by his door, his hands deep
in his pockets, his foot braced flat on the wall,
cocking his leg at the knee.
“Hunter?”
“Hey.” He swallowed, then looked away. “You
have a minute?”

“Sure.” He swiped his card key through the lock

mechanism and opened the door. “What’s up?”
Nerves were making him itch beneath the sweat.
Does he remember last night after all?
“Do you remember where I was last night?”
“At the bar,” he answered, confused. Okay, not
the question he’d been expecting.
“No, I mean when I pitched the ring.”
“Oh. Yeah. On the rocks.”
Hunter looked green and stressed. Sam wondered
if he’d gotten any more sleep. “Can you show me?
There’s a guy at the office who said they have
someone who can try to find it, but it’s going to cost
an arm and a leg.”
“Is it worth the trouble?” Sam asked gently. “I
know it’s your grandfather’s ring, but— Okay, never
mind. Give me five minutes and I’ll take you there.”
By his expression, the only thing Hunter knew was
he had to find it.
Hunter nodded. “Thanks.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Sam swung lazily in a hammock, the book he’d

been reading splayed on his bare chest. He pushed
himself to and fro with a toe dug into the sand. The
orange glow of the setting sun was postcard perfect
as the large burning ball sank into the ocean.
Not for the first time, he wished he had someone
to share this with. Unbidden, his memories tripped
over his last boyfriends, only one of whom was
remotely serious. A short ache of loneliness
bloomed in his chest.
Too bad the one guy he’d found himself attracted
to was not only straight, but didn’t believe in love or
any of the hearts and flowers consistent with the
emotion. “You fucked him up good, Stefani,” he
said, glowering with disgust. How many women
really hacked at a man’s self-confidence when they
were supposed to care for them enough to get
married?
He didn’t believe for a moment Hunter had really
been in love with her. It was simply what was done,
what was expected because he didn’t believe there

was anything better. Though where he got his
definition of commitment and love, Sam had no
idea. Obviously the man was in desperate need of a
few chick flicks. Sam wasn’t a total flaming queen,
but he did have a heart. One that beat and bled red
if it was hurt.
So who taught Hunter love was a pipedream?
That person needed their head clocked with a two-
by-four.
When he got to his room for the night, there was
a message waiting for him, the phone light blinking
to alert him. He dialed the service on the phone and
heard Hunter’s voice.
“Hey, uh, Sam? This is Hunter. I wanted to say
thank you, and well, I know you probably have
plans, but could you meet me in the Gallery for
breakfast, about eight? I’ll be there. Uh, okay? Okay.
I guess I’ll see if I see you. ‘Bye.”
“Sure, you big lug,” Sam replied with a gentle
smile to a dial tone.

§

§

§

The next morning, Sam walked into the Gallery,

searching the tables of couples. He refused to let it
get to him. Seeing so many couples of any mixture
in love and together was becoming pointedly painful
because he couldn’t shake what he’d done with
Hunter or the fact he’d enjoyed it as much as he
had. At least in a few days, he’d be back home and
this whole episode would be a closed chapter in his
life.
Sam spotted Hunter at the same moment Hunter
seemed to see him and their gazes locked. Sam
forced himself to act casual, when he trembled on
his feet. Hunter waved Sam over.
“Morning,” Sam said. He tugged out the chair
from beneath the glass table and sank onto it.
“Good morning, gentlemen. What can I get you
this morning?” A smiling, dark-skinned waitress
with the long hair of the native islanders stood at
their table.
“Coffee, please,” Hunter replied.
“I’ll do the same with a glass of orange juice.”
“Will it be the buffet or a menu?”
“I’m fine with the buffet. Sam?”

Sam nodded in agreement. “Buffet, please.”
She pointed them in the right direction then left
to get their drinks.
Sam stood when Hunter did, shamelessly ogling
Hunter’s broad shoulders in the black muscle shirt
he wore. He was well built, solid and tan. A tall,
lickable stud. She was a fucking idiot. Who in their
right mind would treat this guy like shit? Sam would
love to show him exactly what it was he was
missing.
He let out a soft sigh. “Not happening,” he said
under his breath, disconsolate.
“What?”
Hunter paused in front of him, watching him
with a plate in hand.
“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Sam lied like a pro.
“Look, I know you probably have plans, but I…”
Hunter began to pile his plate high. “Well, I have a
few things already scheduled. Would you like to do
them with me?”
Sam began to do the same routine as Hunter,
maybe with a little more moderation. Unlike the

god’s body next to him at the buffet island, he did
have to watch what he ate on occasion.
“Like what?” Sam popped a strawberry into his
mouth, licking his lips to catch the juice. Absently,
he watched as Hunter placed two pineapple wedges
on Sam’s plate beside his bacon. He shook his head,
grinning but hiding it. The man was the sweetest
living thing within a fifteen thousand mile radius.
Hands down.
Sam paid attention when Hunter started speaking
again. “Snorkeling, off the cove this afternoon. And
I think Stefani asked for massages. I’m really
debating letting that one go.”
“No way.” Sam poked with a stiff finger into a
solid bicep. “That is one you must do. Trust me.
You’ll love yourself for it afterward.”
“Oh?”
Sam nodded with sure confidence. “Trust me.
You will love it.”
Hunter grunted, shaking his head. “You are a
menace.”
“You know,” Sam sassed, waving a sausage link at

him. “I thought the exact same thing about you
barely a day and a half ago.” He popped it into his
mouth, chewing in sage and pork bliss.
“You need a boyfriend,” Hunter mused quietly.
“Society isn’t safe.”
Sam almost choked on his bite of food. Hunter
quickly checked over a shoulder, ready to body slam
him or something, Sam was sure.
“You okay?”
He croaked roughly, “Yeah.” Though after the
pineapple and confirmation, proof he remembered
Sam was gay, he was really worried more and more
now about how much Hunter did remember from the
night they met.
God, he prayed, please don’t let him remember that. It
was embarrassing enough how Sam had not only
not stopped it — he’d encouraged it — but allowed
a very drunk Hunter to do it at all.
Once they were at their table, they dug in with
mutual abandon, devouring their food down to
their plates in nothing flat.
“Was starving, apparently,” Sam quipped,

practically lifting the plate to lick the bottom clean.
He did manage to refrain from it, though.
“They couldn’t find the ring.”
Sam slid his gaze up to the blank face in front of
him. “I’m sorry. I know it meant a lot to you.”
He shrugged. “Honestly, it didn’t. But I think
Dad might say something different.” He stirred a
topped off cup of coffee to draw a sip, his lashes
covering those dark eyes.
Now in the bright sunlight, Sam could make out
their intense hue. A blue so rich, they were nearly
black, or maybe indigo. In the right beam of light,
they looked like Elizabeth Taylor eyes. With his rich
blond hair and tan, Hunter was simply, in one word,
incredible.
Sam managed to not sigh like a lovesick puppy.
Barely.
Unsure after Hunter’s reaction the night he met,
he posed his next question with caution. “Was it his
dad’s or your mom’s?”
“I don’t have a mother,” he replied emotionlessly.
“Dad raised me from the time I was an infant.”

Sam weighed Hunter’s words, his physical
language, and began to see maybe where the whole
“love is a joke” stream of thought had been born.
Hunter gave more insight when he added, “I’ll
face it when I get home. Maybe it’s just the way of it.
Granddad’s wife left him. My mother walked out on
Dad. I’m just following family tradition.”
“No, you’re not.” Sam reached and clasped
Hunter’s wrist in firm fingers. “You’re a wonderful
guy who needs to feel real love.”
He snorted harshly. “If I am, where’s yours?”
Sam’s mouth gaped open to close slowly at
Hunter’s challenge. “Well, I wish I knew. But that’s
exactly it. We can’t make it happen because it’s
convenient or because there won’t be time in the
next six months to dedicate ourselves to searching.”
Sam startled when a couple stopped at their table.
With a glance, he recognized the pair who’d been
playing Frisbee the day before.
The blonde woman was smiling, leaning into her
guy. “You guys make such a cute couple. I hope you
have a long life together.”

Hunter ripped his hand free from Sam’s shocked
loose hold.
“Oh, we’re not together,” Sam said.
“I’m not gay,” Hunter stated coolly.
Those three words caused a burn in Sam’s
stomach, only exacerbating the hopelessness of how
he knew he was beginning to feel about Hunter.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” She slapped a hand over her
mouth while embarrassment heightened the pink of
her cheeks.
“Just friends,” Sam reiterated dully, faking a smile
of unconcern to say they weren’t upset by her
assumption. Though Sam was, but not for reasons
anyone else would know.
“Come on, Julie. You’ve embarrassed them
enough.” The guy tugged at her arm. “Sorry, guys.
She’s cocker spaniel friendly.”
She batted his chest with a reprimanding hand
and a giggle. “I am not.” She faced the table. “Bye. I
hope you have a good time regardless. As for
you…” she threatened her husband. Sam finally
spotted the rings. His throat tightened a notch. They

walked away, smiling, teasing. And happy.
Sam followed their backs as they left, his lingering
enjoyment diminishing with each moment. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
Sam noticed Hunter stayed more to his side of
the table afterward.
Hunter kept his gaze down. Goosebumps and
chills were slowly fading from his spine. That made
twice now, if he wasn’t mistaking what he
remembered. He breathed slowly through his nose,
trying to pretend everything was all right, trying to
pretend the hard-on hidden beneath the coverings
of the table wasn’t apparent to anyone. And, he
wished, not even to himself.
Sam’s touch, offered both times in comfort and
concern, had sent blood rushing like a burst dam
south of his beltline. He’d known his entire life skin-
to-skin touch drove him up a wall. He’d always
thought it was an anomaly, something wrong with
his nerves or brain or something. Stefani’s touch
had only rarely affected him like this. That meant it
was something haywire with him, didn’t it? How
could a guy’s touch — Sam’s — make him crazy

like this?
He’d been positive the dried cum he’d found in
his underwear and on his skin had been from a wet
dream. It had to have been because he’d felt
deserted by Stefani and hornier than shit, probably
dreaming and humping the bed he’d slept in. Right?
He’d

transposed

Sam’s

help

into

some

amalgamation of sexual starvation and a need for his
ex, which made him shoot his wad at some point
after he’d started drinking. It had made sense
yesterday.
Now he wasn’t so sure he’d been thinking of her.
Carefully folding the napkin by his plate, he thought
— and for the first time — he couldn’t even bring
up her face in his mind. Hunter had thought Stefani
was it. Talk about being wrong. Except, if it hadn’t
been her memory to help him get his rocks off, then
who had he been thinking of?
He knew he wasn’t gay. He did like Sam, though.
Nice in a way most guys weren’t, helpful, and
somehow always sunny and smiling.
“Where is the snorkeling?”
Sam’s quiet question dragged Hunter’s attention

up again, out of the mucking rut of his thoughts.
“At the cove, by the big statue and dock. That’s
where the pick up boat is anyway. I think they take
us around the other side of the island.”
“Sounds like fun.” Sam studiously placed his
utensils across his plate. “Do you still want me to
go? I’ll understand if you don’t, if it makes you
uncomfortable…”
His eyebrows crossed. “If what makes me
uncomfortable?”
Sam refused to look up, his lips thinning for a
heartbeat. “People thinking we’re together. Most
straight guys feel it’s an insult —”
“I don’t.”
“Sure you don’t,” he muttered, still avoiding him
by looking at the table.
“What are you talking about?”
Sam squared his shoulders. When he faced
Hunter, there was nothing on his face, no sign of his
thoughts in his eyes. “Nothing. What time is the
boat?”
“Eleven.”

“Okay.” Sam stood. “I’ll see you there. And
thanks for the invite and for letting me join you for
breakfast.” Then, with a smile that didn’t seem quite
right, Sam left him in the restaurant.

CHAPTER FIVE

Sam slathered on sunblock and then grabbed his

sunglasses. With his hair shoved under a baseball
cap, flip-flops on his feet, and wearing other sundry
necessities already, he slid his card key into the
hidden pocket inside of his swim trunks.
A final check and he was ready. He strolled
toward the boat docks with a towel over his
shoulder, not too sure about what to expect. He’d
never gone snorkeling, and being there alone, he
hadn’t gone out of his way to sign up for the resort
excursions. He supposed he could have, but what
was the point? Like the sunset the night before, no
one to share it with. Geez, but he was getting
maudlin. Where was the fun?
He arrived on the dock a few minutes before
eleven and spotted Hunter leaning against a wood
railing, his arms and legs crossed and looking utterly
bored and out of place in a pack of couples. Sam
took up the same slouched position beside him.
“This spot taken?”
“Hey.” Hunter gave him a shoulder bump.

“Wasn’t sure you were going to show.”
Sam shrugged. Looking around, there was one
other gay couple, talking quietly across the dock
path. Otherwise, they were the oddest pair there.
God, as soon as he got home, he was going to find
himself a boyfriend.
“Okay, everyone! Find a swim buddy and pair up
if you can.” One of the guides using a bullhorn at
the front of the dozen or so in the group began to
give instructions.
“Wanna be my buddy?” Hunter asked with wry
humor.
“Kind of a given. I’ve seen you naked.” Sam
twisted a fake moustache, giving him an arched
villain eyebrow.
Hunter groaned, the tan of his face deepening
with a definite shy heat. “Don’t remind me. Not my
best memories.”
Sam winced, feeling like a jerk for reminding him
about his bitch-ex, the reason behind his drunken
state. Before anything else could be said or he could
apologize, they were lined up and herded onto the

catamaran. Each received a life vest and instruction
on how to use it, as well as other instruction for
when they reached the outlook at the cove where
they’d be issued their equipment if they didn’t bring
their own. Sam noticed a few had satchels with
snorkel gear.
The roar of the engines prevented any further
discussion. Glancing around the seated pairs, he
blinked and then, chuckling, shook his head. Julie
and her husband were in the group.
She laughed and waved, elbowing her husband to
point them out. He waved in greeting then
apparently told Julie to chill. She began to pout.
He was going to have his hands full with her. She
was vivacious and precocious and, yes, cocker
spaniel friendly, though Sam knew better than to
vocalize his agreement within hearing.
Sam also noticed Hunter seemed preoccupied,
lost in his thoughts, not bothering to take in the
scenery as they rounded the island. Shrubs and tall
trees were drowning in vibrant sheets of green, thick
leaves as broad as his hand span and as long as his
leg. He could imagine the bird song dancing from

tree to tree, one sending a call and countless more
replying in chirps and hums, replacing the vibrating
whir of the engine with a soundtrack he’d heard for
the last three days.
No wonder people liked living in this kind of
beautiful solitude. There was something very
peaceful about it, all natural without a sign of
modern anything to disrupt it. Come to think of it,
he hadn’t missed his cell phone once since he’d been
there. Popo would have a heart attack if he knew.
Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back,
enjoying the wash of the wind and the heat of the
sun on his face. He was probably going to return
home looking like baked bread, warm and toasty but
still pale on the inside.
Every now and then, the jostle of the boat
brought Hunter into his side, warm flesh against his.
How sad was it he was craving those brushes?
Savoring the smoothness of Hunter’s skin, the hard
form of muscle against his side?
Definitely looking for a boyfriend as soon as he
got home.
Hunter was doing his best to not let his body

disobey him. He wanted Sam there, wanted the
company. Then when Sam had stood beside Hunter,
waiting their turn to start the excursion, he’d been
doing everything from reciting the alphabet
backward to counting his own breaths to hide how
his nearness affected him. And he wasn’t even
touching him! Well, not a lot, a few slight slips of
skin, shoulder to shoulder.
He was almost shivering with the force of his
restraint. What would happen if Sam actually touched
him, like… He didn’t know. A real touch? A caress?
Hunter caught his lip. He’d never wanted one more.
Never wanted to find out so badly he ached with it.
Girls, women, had touched him and he’d enjoyed it.
Sort of. Hunter didn’t know what to think about
any of it.
Now Sam was relaxed next to him, swaying with
the boat and they were definitely pressed into one
another, the tight seating of the boat not giving a lot
of freedom for less.
Using the cover of his sunglasses and the inability
to do more than sit without screaming to be heard,
he studied Sam’s supine frame. His shoulders were

almost as wide as Hunter’s, not as thick, but Hunter
had worked the weights since he was fourteen. It
was a habit now and he didn’t want to break it. He
didn’t even know what Sam did or where he lived.
Shaggy brown hair reached past his ears, peeking
from beneath the red ball cap over his eyes.
He’d worn a T-shirt that morning to breakfast,
but had changed into a pale blue muscle shirt, and
Hunter couldn’t help himself, his gaze straying over
the expanse of viewable skin. He swallowed when he
felt a flush of heat surge beneath his skin. There on
his right shoulder were three freckles, dark brown
against his tan. Did he have more?
Hunter blinked, yanking the leash on his curiosity
hard. Where had that come from? So what if he had
more. Why did he care? Ignoring the pull of those
three freckles, he slid a lingering gaze down Sam’s
front. His trunks were modest but not long, legs not
quite as tanned as the rest of him, bent at the knee.
He looked strong. Yesterday, he’d waited at Sam’s
room not sure where to even begin looking for him
to ask where he’d found Hunter drunk. He’d been in
workout clothes and sweaty. Was he a runner?

The flush of heat ebbed and flowed but never
went away as he continued his circumspect study.
Thank God his own trunks were loose. Distracted
from keeping a particular part of his anatomy from
misbehaving, it had wandered off on its own and
even then was halfway to happy.
Hunter shifted forward, blowing a sharp breath
out, pretending he was stiff from sitting. Stiff. He
grunted without humor. He certainly wasn’t
pretending any part of it. He couldn’t seem to win.
A couple minutes later, they were docking the
boat and tying off lines. He bumped Sam’s knee to
make sure he was awake.
He sat up, scrubbing his jaw. A bashful grin
curled smooth lips. “Dozed off, didn’t I?”
“I think so. A good swim will wake you right up.”
“The water is going to feel so good after the
sunshine.”
Hunter was hoping it would help hide his
problem.
One by one, they managed to reach dry land,
following the guide with the bullhorn who was

cutting jokes and teasing a couple of ladies at the
front. If their laughter was any sign, he was winning
them over with room to spare.
“Oh, I guess I didn’t need this after all.” Sam
tossed the towel he held on a table top. There was a
stockpile of towels in the gear shed, behind the guys
handing out masks and fins.
“Let’s go get fitted and see what they have
planned.”
“Sure. This is your gig.”
In no time, they were geared up and listening to
last minute warnings. “The cameraman will be
happy to take any pictures and you can pick them up
at the resort by four this afternoon. Remember, the
fish are more scared of you, so relax and have fun.”
“Sucks that we have to have the life vest to
swim,” Sam mentioned, tugging on the tightening
chest straps to loosen them enough to remove it
over his head. “I’m a good swimmer.”
“I’m sure you are, sir,” one of the group leaders
said with the flash of a kind smile. “It’s a liability
issue, not because anyone doubts your Aquaman

skills.” He gave Sam a broad wink and a lingering
up and down, heated glance before slowly turning
away to help others.
Hunter was confused to find Sam’s face flushed.
“What’s wrong?”
He blinked and shook himself once, as though
coming out of a daze. “I wasn’t expecting it. He was
flirting with me.”
“Really?”
“And he’s hot.”
Hunter searched for the guy again, wondering
what Sam saw in him that made him “hot”. He was
lean, tall, fit, parading in tight swim briefs and
nothing else, and probably not native. His skin
wasn’t island dark, more sun dark. Then Hunter saw
him smile and laugh. Oh, crap. Yeah, that guy was
dangerous.
“I guess he’s cute, if he’s smiling,” Hunter
allowed, confused and twitchy all over again.
“Oh, come on.” Sam swatted his bicep. “Look at
his ass,” Sam whispered, leaning close, “could take a
bite of that then kiss it all better.” Immediately, Sam

leaned away in a rush, his mouth as wide open as his
shocked eyes. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. Damn it!” He
held up a hand and took a step back. “I forgot. I’m
sorry. Shit.” He whirled and stomped over to one of
the benched tables to jerk his shirt over his head
and began playing with his gear.
Hunter strode over and sat down. “What was
that?”
“I said I was sorry.”
“No. Why are you sorry?”
Sam took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and
falling. “I know you’re not gay, and I…forgot.
That’s all. It’s easy to be around you.” His hands
stopped fidgeting with the neon yellow mask strap,
leaving it in his lap as he avoided Hunter with a
bowed head.
“I like being around you, too. Why do you keep
thinking stuff like that bothers me?”
Sam deliberated silently, his fingers dawdling with
the rubber straps. Finally, he looked square at
Hunter and said, “Because sometimes you just go
cold. Like this morning when Julie thought we were

together. I don’t want to insult you. Hell, you’re my
only friend on this stupid island.”
“You’re not insulting me, not by being yourself
and not because others think…well, whatever. It’s
on them. And we are friends. I owe you for sticking
with me even when we just met to keep me from
doing something exponentially stupid. I could have
easily fallen into the water off those rocks.”
Sam was quick to shake his head. “Wouldn’t have
let anything happen to you.”
“And you didn’t. You’re a good guy, Sam. You’re
a good friend, and if people think we’re together,
then…” Hunter shrugged, not sure what he was
really trying to say, and shying away from defining
it. “It’s not an insult. Not to me. I know I’m not gay.
That’s all I need to know. Everyone else is a moron.
”
Sam tilted his head, gazing at Hunter like an
inquisitive puppy, all big brown eyes. He finally
shook his head, breathing a half-assed chuckle.
“You’re more than a card short, but being the friend
I am, I won’t point it out more than once.”
“Good. Ready?”

“Sure.” The smile Sam gave Hunter was even
brighter, and holy mother, sexier than the employee’s
who’d been flirting with Sam not ten minutes ago.
I am not gay. I can’t be attracted to Sam. His
conscience was quick to take up the devil’s advocate
side of things. Then you can’t be jealous if someone else
thinks he’s good looking, or if Sam thinks someone is hot.
Apparently, can’t and can had a lot of explaining
to do.

CHAPTER SIX

Sam stumbled down the rock steps until he was

hip deep in the water. Leaning carefully, he groped
to slip the long fins onto his feet.
“Here, hold me.”
Sam turned and smiled at the young blonde in a
rose pink two-piece swimsuit. “Your honey is going
to get jealous.”
“Nah.” Julie waved it off with a light chuckle. She
held her arm up for him bent at the elbow. “He
knows I’m all his, and if you promise to not tell, I
totally know he was right this morning. Though a
cocker spaniel?” She sniffed with playful disdain.
“They are cute.”
“I guess,” she conceded.
“I’m Sam.” He finished with his fins, judging his
footing before offering a hand to shake.
“Well, I’m Julie, and that’s Travis. Where’s your
friend?”
“That’s Hunter.” He twisted to search over a
shoulder. Hunter was stacking their belongings in a

cubby. “He’s coming.”
“Want to go terrorize Jaws?” She splayed out,
scooting into the water, her feet slicing the water
neatly.
“I’m game.”
He inched out into the water, growing
accustomed to the buoyancy of the vest and the
added torque of the fins on his feet. Julie helped
him adjust his mask, tightening it for a good fit.
“You’ve done this before,” Sam offered with a
thank you.
“Fourth time here. We love it.”
Travis slipped up behind her and wrapped his
arms around her waist. She made the introductions,
adding Hunter when he popped up to finish the
foursome.
“Just enjoy the view,” Julie suggested. Then she
linked with Travis’s fingers and both began slowly
swimming through the water.
“They sure are a cute couple.”
Water dripped down the side of Hunter’s face
and Sam wanted to lick it off. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah.” Treading water with slow sweeps of his
feet, it took him a second to realize Hunter was
hypnotized with watching the couple together as
they swam, pointing things out for each other, held
close by their fingertips. The degree of longing and
wanting in Hunter’s eyes sucked the warmth right
out of Sam’s skin.
He dunked himself to clear his head. This could
not be happening. He was not growing feelings for
Hunter. It was emotional suicide. Hunter needed a
woman who could show him what real love was,
what real loving felt like.
Sam was not a woman.
He rose from the water and wiped his face.
“Ready to do this?” He slid his mask into place, not
waiting for an answer. He had to move. Sitting still
gave him too much time to think, to regret even
more.
He nodded toward Hunter and picked a
direction. At first, he barely saw anything,
determined to not get too close or to touch Hunter
too much. Then Hunter gripped his hand and got
his attention, pointing out a school of fish in the

coral. His excitement was infectious, and Sam
couldn’t help relaxing into the exploring. The water
was so clear, the fish so colorful and brilliant it was
no wonder people came back again and again.
Hunter was like a little kid, starting and stopping at
every new discovery.
A sharp whistle blast had them popping their
heads out of the water.
“Lunch will be served in twenty minutes then
we’ll be returning back to the resort.”
“Damn,” Hunter said, dejected. “This is so cool.”
“Want to get a couple pictures?” Sam suggested.
“Oh, yeah! Where is he?” Hunter whipped
around, hunting for the guy with the camera.
They searched and found the cameraman, a huge
box-like yellow waterproof camera hanging at his
chest. He was awash in spirals of fish.
“He must taste good,” Sam joked.
Hunter snickered, then took Sam by complete
surprise by grabbing a hand. “Come on. I don’t care
if he tastes like sirloin. That’s a lot of fish and I want
a couple pictures.” He all but dragged Sam behind

him as he torpedoed through the water.
“Sheesh! You’re strong!”
“Oh, sorry.” Hunter slowed down.
“No!” Sam laughed, sputtering water. “I like it.”
Hunter eased up to the cameraman in the water.
“We need a couple, for both of us.”
“Sure thing. Just tread in the water and when I
count down, go under the surface and breathe easy
as you can for about twenty seconds.”
“I can do that.”
Sam nodded his agreement.
Hunter checked his mask, then surprisingly, did
the same thing for Sam. “Ready?”
Sam’s heart was pounding, making it impossible
to speak. The countdown had started.
“Three!”
Under they went. Sam couldn’t see anything but a
mass of multi-colored bodies and fins swimming in
front of his vision.
He came up laughing. “Oh, wow!” They dunked
twice more, neither able to actually do as instructed

for long with all the laughing they were doing. The
last photo Sam wrapped an arm around Hunter’s
shoulders and he did the same around Sam’s waist,
bringing them hip to hip.
He couldn’t wait to see that one. He was also sure
he was imagining it when Hunter seemed reluctant
to let him go, their bodies bobbing together in the
warm water currents. He could only hope Hunter
wasn’t aware of how hard his dick had become while
being held against his side.

§

§

§

Sam was roused out of his nap by a knock on his
door. Between the sun, the swimming, and food, he
was drained. He’d reached his room and flopped
across the bed, zonked out in nothing flat. The
knock repeated. He grumbled under his breath. In
shorts and nothing else, he stumbled to the door
and pulled it open.
“They found it!”
Hunter engulfed him in a bear hug, lifting him off
the floor before Sam was completely coherent. He
wrapped loose arms around Hunter’s blond head in

preservation like a three year-old, then hooked a leg
around Hunter’s waist, waiting for the world to stop
spinning. Held steady, Hunter didn’t move beneath
him.
Sam was still dreaming. Hunter was holding him,
engulfing him, cradling him. Sun-warmed skin met
lips when he settled his cheek to a broad shoulder.
It was pure instinct to kiss the fragrant expanse.
Hunter shuddered, stilling in his arms. But that was
fine. It was all a dream. A dream where Sam was
able to fall for him without restraint.
“Uh, Sam?” Hunter’s choked voice rumbled him,
chest to chest.
“Hmm?” He burrowed closer. A hesitant hand
braced him on his spine, another gripping his free
leg and bringing it up until his entire weight was
supported by Hunter. C ar ri e d by Hunter. “So
strong.” He sighed happily.
“You’re a monkey, you know that?” Hunter said,
his voice resonating with his laughter. “Back in
bed.”
Sam resisted, holding on, nuzzling into warm
neck and shoulder. “Don’t go.”

“Not a good idea for me to stay.”
Wait. Stay? What?
Sam blinked his eyes open and yelped a pained
cry as he tried to jerk free. He was wrapped around
Hunter like a vine! He thought he’d been dreaming!
“Hey!” Hunter staggered, trying to keep them
both upright. They crashed together with a
bouncing thud to the bed, Hunter blanketing Sam.
Sam scrabbled, pushing hard against a heavier
Hunter.
“Stop it!” Hunter gripped Sam by the wrists and
locked him to the bed, panting for air. “Stop it,
okay?” Hunter’s bottomless gaze glittered with
worry. “Are you okay?”
Sam nodded, not trusting his voice.
“It’s all right. I guessed you were still asleep when
you snored twice.”
“I did not!” Sam cried indignantly.
Hunter guffawed. “Uh huh. No, of course not.”
He added an eye roll for punctuation. “Now that
you’re really awake,” he teased, though he still
hadn’t moved enough to let Sam loose. “They found

the ring. They went out with a metal detector. I
didn’t know it, but there’re tide pools all along the
rock ledge.”
“That’s great,” Sam managed. His chest was
constricting with the need to touch, or lick, or kiss.
Breathing was a good idea too, except it wasn’t
happening easily. Hunter was in another tank top
and there was nothing but miles of shoulder for him
to admire. And being held down wasn’t helping any.
It was only turning him on more. A state he was
sure Hunter was going to notice any second now.
In fact…
His eyes widened slowly with dawning realization.
“Is that…”
Sam bit his bottom lip. “’Fraid so,” he rasped. He
tried to shift again, but made even less progress.
Heartbeats elongated into timeless minutes.
“Sam, if I asked you a question, would you tell me
the truth?”
He glared at Hunter. “Like I’d lie? Not cool,
Hunter.” He flexed his hands, keeping blood
moving. Hunter eased his grip but still hadn’t let

him free. Sam was growing hard as a rock in
increments. And Hunter still wasn’t releasing him.
“The night we met.”
Oh, shit. No, don’t ask about that, please. Sam
clenched his eyes shut, his stomach rolling.
“Was I going on about Stefani?”
Sam went weak in a rush. He was going to blame
it on his ex. There was a god. “Quite a lot.”
Darker than night, blue eyes rose and locked on
Sam’s. “Was I turned on?”
Sam shook, nervous energy returning in a tidal
wave to make him quiver under Hunter’s weight.
Something in the tone of Hunter’s voice had Sam’s
radar going crazy. “How the hell should I know?
You were fall-down-on-your-face drunk.” He hadn’t
let Sam go, either. The turn-on factor was fading
with Hunter pissing him off now, which was gaining
ground.
“Then why does it feel like we’ve done this
before?” Hunter’s confusion was clear, and it raked
over Sam.
Sam froze, his chest moving in ragged leaps as he

tried to breathe and not panic. It wasn’t working out
too well.
Hunter was staring at him hard. Trying to unravel
a drunken memory Sam never wanted him to have.
“Stop. Nothing happened.” He rolled his head to
try to see above where he was trapped, but there was
nothing he could see and less he could do. Hunter
was definitely strong, though he wasn’t doing one
thing to hurt Sam.
“Something did happen.” Hunter inched higher
on the bed, his elbows on either side of Sam’s
blocked arms.
Then Hunter released one hand, capturing both
of Sam’s wrists in a broad clasp. Trailing down the
inside of Sam’s arm, he mapped skin with questing
fingertips.
“Hunter.” Sam was almost sobbing, torn between
wanting and need, and disgust because he wanted
this so bad, he wasn’t putting up any kind of a fight.
“Shh. Wouldn’t hurt you.”
“I know that, you Viking oaf,” Sam growled. He
thrust his hips, trying to dislodge Hunter.

Frustration was now adding to the mix.
Hunter froze, his eyes widening into two
bottomless pools. “It was you,” he breathed in
shock.
Shit. The last block must have fallen into place.
Sam twisted to hide, his eyes closed, unable to
look up into Hunter’s face. “I’m sorry,” he
whispered, so raw his throat burned with the effort.
“Couldn’t stop. Either of us.” He gulped air,
trembling. “No excuse. You were drunk. Bad
drunk.”
“What did you do?”
Sam bit the sensitive skin of his inner arm to
focus, the pain sharp enough to cut through his own
tumbling distress and answer him. “Touched you.”
“That was all?” Hunter asked with surprised
skepticism.
Shakily, he nodded. Technically, Hunter had
kissed him, so the only crime against Sam was the
fact that he hadn’t been able to control his wayward
palm. “No bare skin. There’re no worries you’ll
suddenly catch some gay cootie.”

“I wasn’t —”
“Yeah, you were.” Sam refused to look up again,
waiting for Hunter to leave him to his humiliation.
It wasn’t immediate when Sam noticed Hunter
had changed his weight. Not moved, so much, as
twisted. A fingertip was dancing over his right
shoulder.
He buried his face deeper against his arm, hiding.
“Hunter, please. Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” he told him fiercely. “You’re
driving me insane.” His flagging cock began to perk
up again, his anger seeping away as frustrated
hunger for more surged to the forefront. His length
was caged under Hunter’s hip and beat with its own
rhythm as need and remorse see-sawed viciously
inside Sam. He couldn’t help enjoying Hunter’s
learning touch, enshrouded by a full-length heat
he’d been craving. He wasn’t even sure why Hunter
was doing it, since neither could claim to being
drunk right then.
“How… How did you touch me?”

Sam groaned, wishing the bed would grow a
mouth and swallow him whole. “Hunter.” Sam was
almost whining, ready to plead and beg to make him
stop.
“Just tell me.”
Sam drew several steadying, deep breaths, trying
to calm himself. “One hand.”
Blatant disbelief deepened his voice. “Just…a
hand?”
Sam grimaced. “Say what you’re going to say then
get out.” Sam couldn’t take anymore. He really
couldn’t.
“Sam.” Time stood still.
Sam gasped, unprepared for Hunter’s next move.
White stars burst on closed eyelids and he shivered.
Burrowed against his pinned arm, his neck lay
exposed and taut. Hunter was taking advantage of
the length of skin and tendon, gliding with butterfly
strokes with lips that burned. Goosebumps erupted,
his entire chest tightening as arousal shot into his
system. What made Sam sink even lower into his
own personal hell was how much he needed

Hunter’s touch and more.
“Hunter. Oh, God.” The words tumbled free
from quivering lips when he spoke. Heat rolled
beneath his skin. Desire burst in volcanic pulses.
A firm hand slid down his side, a strong thumb
riding over ribs until it stopped at Sam’s hip,
catching in the notch of his waist.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Hunter. You…you need to…stop. You’re not

gay.”
Hunter hovered right above Sam’s pulse, the
rapid pounding tattoo mesmerizing in its intensity.
He was floating — or soaring, he wasn’t sure —
without leaving the heat of Sam’s body beneath his
in the bed. He’d always been sensitive to touch, but
this was unlike anything he’d ever felt. A hard
swallow followed on the tail of the next thought.
No woman had ever made him feel like this. Not
even Stefani, and she’d been the only woman he’d
thought he cared enough about to spend the rest of
his life with. Testing, he lowered his head to Sam’s
neck again and formed his lips to the erratic race of
his heartbeat. Sam moaned, a deep, gusting sound
that shot a thrill down Hunter’s spine. A full body
shudder shook them both.
Hunter adjusted his position, aching, his dick
jamming into Sam’s thigh, shooting lances of
confusion and need into his blood with
simultaneous pulses of passion. How could he have

been so wrong? How could he have never felt like
this before?
“Not gay,” he parroted in belated, distracted
agreement against the stretched skin of Sam’s throat.
“Feels so good.” Sam shook under him, his naked
chest pressed into Hunter’s. Mocking shouts and
insults of his various sexual failures flared in his
memory then faded with each passing heartbeat,
pushed well out of reach.
Hunter was hard enough to cut glass. No way was
his dick going to let him down this time.
“Touch me. Please,” he begged, sipping gently at
Sam’s throat. “Want…” You. Oh, God. He was so
confused. But it felt so good. He couldn’t remember
the last time he’d felt like this with another person,
if he ever had. He felt alive. Nerves tingled, riding
up and down his spine with the speed of a mach
rollercoaster, with no rhyme or reason. There was
even a scent, something musk and salt water, and…
he drew a breath…and Sam. Just Sam.
“Are you sure?” Sam whispered uncertainly, his
panting loud in the quiet of the room.
Short of breath, he had no idea how he spoke at

all. “No. Need this.”
Seconds dragged by, his lips a hairsbreadth from
Sam’s erratically beating pulse. His senses were
drowning in the heat of skin, the scent of need and
desire, the feel of Sam’s body captured beneath his.
Hard and solid. Long and lean. There was a testing
tug beneath his hand. He’d forgotten he was holding
Sam down. He let him go.
Cautiously, so tenderly, Sam raked light fingers
into his hair. Shocks burst into being beneath Sam’s
learning fingertips. Hunter’s eyelids sank shut, his
heart launching into a new speed.
He obeyed a gentle tug, his chin arching high in
capitulation. The sensation of Sam’s hot tongue
lingering at the hollow of his throat curled his toes.
Images of Sam’s lips sucking on lush strawberries,
his tongue riding out to lick pineapple juice from
smooth lips returned in pure, bright color and he
groaned.
“Okay?”
Hunter moaned his approval. He clenched into
the bedding, trembling from his knuckles to his
dick.

“Tastes so good,” Sam said with a sexy rumble,
sucking lightly, nipping and licking a trail over
Hunter’s shoulder. “So fucking gorgeous.”
That startled Hunter, but not enough to convince
him to make Sam stop when it was a male voice
encouraging him. He’d been told he was good
looking, but never with such a deep growl of
hunger. Somehow he knew Sam wasn’t saying it to
stroke his ego, to make him eager to fuck. Or to
keep him hard enough to let at least one of them
finish.
“Hate me if you want, but I want to suck you so
bad.” Sam didn’t stop, speaking between nibbles and
sucking kisses. “Never lost it like I did with you.”
“Will…” He swallowed around the blade-filled
dryness in his throat and tried again. “Will a
blowjob feel good?”
Sam chuckled, confidence making him even sexier
to Hunter. “Oh, God. You have no idea how good
it can be. If Queen Bitchiness was your only
experience, you have no idea.”
“She hated them,” Hunter admitted, his tongue as

loose as his spine was stretched tight. He could
probably count the sum total on both hands.
“Hated when I —”
Sam purred against his Adam’s apple, stopping
his voice and his brain with a single stroke. “Shh.
Not a problem here. She doesn’t belong here. This
is you and me. And I don’t see you having any
problems. None,” he crooned encouragingly,
reaching for him with a hungry mouth.
“Shit.” Hunter felt his entire body going weak
with wanting.
A tug on his shirt worked its way through the
lusting fog clouding his thoughts. “Off, sexy.”
Together, they inched the shirt up and away, then
Sam was holding him, his arms snug around
Hunter’s back. “Feel that, gorgeous. Hot skin,
loving how you feel.” Warm breath flowed over his
ear, driving chills of a whole new depth down his
body. Sam drifted with light kisses where he could
reach, letting Hunter adjust and savor. “Roll over,
baby.”
Hunter obeyed, loving every minute, every word
and touch. Stilling on his back, he gazed up at Sam.

The burn in his eyes wasn’t placating, it was real.
The desire was bottomless. Like he wanted to spend
hours sampling Hunter. This wasn’t just sex, not for
Sam. This was deep, something timeless arcing
between the two of them. If he’d been asked, what
he was feeling was something Hunter would have
sworn on a Bible was nothing but a woman’s
fantasy. Sex for men was nothing more than sex.
Release. It’s what his dad had always told him —
not to expect anything else. What Hunter had
always known. Never believing this existed, he’d
never looked for more than what he had with
Stefani.
Sam had already shown him how wrong he’d
been. He’d never known or felt this connection
before. He would have wept because the feeling was
so freeing but Sam’s hot mouth and caressing hands
kept sidetracking him into a spiral of desire he
couldn’t battle.
Tan legs straddled Hunter’s hips, a hand splayed
on the taut skin of Hunter’s chest to brace Sam over
him. “I’ll go slow, baby,” Sam promised. He dipped
forward and licked a tantalizing trail up Hunter’s

chest from his abdomen to the top of his sternum.
He repeated the caress with slow palms, feeding
Hunter’s own need to be touched.
Hunter’s hands fisted into the blanket beneath
him.
“Good?”
He thought he nodded. He knew he couldn’t
speak.
Sam rocked his hips slowly, capturing Hunter’s
dick between their bodies, rolling them into each
other. A new bolt of pleasure lanced him and he
arched his spine, hissing quietly.
“If that bad boy is soft, I’m blonder than you.”
Hunter cracked an eyelid and caught himself on
Sam’s teasing eyes, sparks making them beautiful.
Hunter was dying to have him do something —
anything — to his cock. Instead, Sam continued to
massage and caress over his chest and shoulders,
giving him ample time to call a stop, giving Hunter
the control even if Sam was the one delivering the
mind-blowing ecstasy. He flicked with light nails
over taut nipples and Hunter jerked in reaction, like

he’d been shocked.
“Oh, hell,” Sam moaned, then subjected Hunter
to the delight again, making Hunter cry out. “Fuck,
you are so fucking perfect.” Sam’s body lowered
over his before he latched his hot mouth onto a
nipple, hungrily devouring his flesh with driving
licks and sucks to let him go with loud pops.
Sam murmured in approval, and Hunter opened
his eyes. When had he threaded his hands into Sam’s
hair? Strands played between his fingers, smooth
and soft, and… His eyes rolled into his head, and he
couldn’t give it another second to think about.
Instead, he guided Sam, letting him play while he
systematically melted Hunter.
Slowly, Sam’s evil tongue was wielded over his
entire chest, hot breath and sharp teeth branding
him as much as soft lips and long licks destroyed
every nerve. Hunter sensed the bed shift, felt Sam
adjust himself, then there was the press of lips on
his inner thigh, a light kiss seeking permission.
Hunter sank into oblivion, widening to give him
room when Sam asked for it with a gentle hand.
Inch by inch, his shorts were slid off his hips and

down his thighs, exposing him. “Sonofabitch!”
Hunter stuffed his forearm between his teeth,
stifling more shouts. He’d never met anyone with a
tongue as talented as Sam’s when he lapped at
quivering skin. The whip of Sam’s tongue told him
exactly what he was doing.
Hunter gulped, forcing air into his lungs and
oxygen to his brain. He focused down his body as
Sam removed his sandals and his shorts to leave him
bare. Utterly naked.
His dick stood from his furred groin, hard flesh
dark red and leaking from the tip, hot drips slipping
down the crown.
Sam licked his lips; his gaze raking over Hunter’s
shaft like he was prime rib and Sam was three days
without a meal.
Sam raised a molten gaze, questioning. “You’re
still able to say no. Are you sure?”
“Please.” One word. It was all he could manage.
Make me feel good, just once.
Sam leaned close, braced on flat palms to hang
above him. “Would you kiss me? Can you?” Brown

eyes were surrounded by thick lashes, a need hinted
at in their depths Hunter knew Sam wasn’t going to
demand he fulfill. In an instant, he knew he would
do anything Sam wanted. Sam was giving himself
entirely to pleasure Hunter, asking for nothing more
than a kiss.
Shaking, emotions and realizations bombarded
him like a wild storm yet he was unable to deal with
any part of it. Instead, he cupped one side of Sam’s
jaw in an unsteady hand. “Always, Sam.”
Lashes sank as a shudder migrated from naked
shoulders down Sam’s spine.
Hunter brought him close, swallowing once, his
entire focus on Sam’s half-lidded eyes until the
softest press of skin met his lips. Sweet, smooth,
firm and made just for this moment, one kiss.
Hunter canted enough to meld them together
perfectly, breathing each other’s air, swallowing each
other’s moans.
The soft caress of fingers beneath his ear shook
Hunter to the core.
“Just relax, baby. Let me show you how it’s
supposed to be, okay?” Sam said against his lips,

flicks of skin and tongue teasing him when Sam
released him. It was all he could do to lay there and
stare.
How could he have thought for an instant Stefani
was who he wanted? How could he have been
willing to settle for something so mediocre in his
life, so emotionless? So passionless? Gazing at Sam,
the wanting was almost blinding. There were
moments in everyone’s life which defined them. The
clarity of this one stopped Hunter cold as he stared
at Sam, his mind trying to grasp at the truth while a
part of Hunter shied away from that same truth.
It was as obvious as a noon sun beating down on
him.
“Fuck me,” he grunted. “I’m gay.”
Sam froze, his eyes rounding as large as plates in
his face.
He wasn’t defective. Stefani wasn’t incapable.
Hunter was gay. Holy shit.
Sam slowly loosened up, his plump-kissed lips
lifting as pleasure colored his features. “It’s okay,
Hunter. You can be anything you want to be, so

long as you’re happy.”
And that was the crux of it. He’d almost made the
worst mistake of his life because he’d never put the
facts together. Hunter had never believed happiness
was part of the deal. It was a lot to think about, but
not right this second. He didn’t have the capacity
for it.
Sweeping a hand up, he scooped behind Sam’s
neck and brought him down with a tug. Sam
laughed as they wiggled together. For a moment,
everything was perfect. Everything made sense.
“You’re amazing,” Hunter praised, gazing into
some very brilliant brown eyes.
Sam bobbed his eyebrows. “Just wait. I haven’t
even started.” Then he snuck close for a hard, hot
kiss before Hunter knew it, or could keep up. Those
kisses kept tilting his world, and each one was
making it easier to want another. Only Sam had
other plans.
Slipping free of Hunter’s grip, he made the trek
down his body, licking and kissing with intent, but
with a destination evident in his single-mindedness.
Hunter lingered in the oblivion, clenching when

Sam’s wet tongue delved into his belly button.
“Ticklish?”
Hunter bit his bottom lip but nodded.
Apparently he was. Without warning, his entire
world vanished, vacuumed into a void of heat and
sensation. Sam’s mouth eased over the crown of
Hunter’s dick, a hot, wet, pleasurable beyond any
definition, tease.
“Still okay?”
“Don’t you dare stop,” he ground out hoarsely.
Sam chuckled. “Hang on to your nuts, baby.”
Trying to decide if he was being serious or not, he
wasn’t prepared for the full-on oral attack. In one
single move, Hunter’s cock was throat deep. Sam’s
tongue pulsed and pushed, licked and toyed with
him. Sam rode him to the tip, sucking and moaning
in delight. Hunter dug demanding fingers into
Sam’s hair and thrust, lost, utterly sunk to the
sensation.
Okay, yes, he’d had a blowjob or two, but Stefani
had never moaned for him. She’d barely held him,
touched him, and Sam was devouring him like he

couldn’t get enough.
Nails clawed into his thighs. Hunter didn’t care.
Sam glided up and down his shaft, letting Hunter
fuck him at will. Heat roared like a fireball up his
spine. “God, Sam.” Gasping for air was turning out
to be more important than speaking.
Hunter’s balls throbbed, ached. He hungered in
ways he didn’t know had anything to do with
pleasure. He wanted to stay where he was, keep
Sam’s torturing mouth right where he was. Sam
cupped his sac, rolling him gently in rhythm with
the suction. The orgasm struck from deep, so
sudden and unexpected, chills crashed over him
right before heat flooded him. Hunter shouted
Sam’s name, jerking as he shot. Sam rode him
through it, slurping to catch every single drop.
Panting, he went limp on the bed, wondering in
sheer disbelief as his thoughts spun wildly, unable to
catch a single one to make it come into focus. He’d
think about it all later.
Sam purred, licking softening flesh gently as he
caught his breath. “Wow. That was intense,” he said
in appreciation. He nosed into Hunter’s groin,

inhaling all the scents. Raw, masculine, and sated.
He rested for a too-brief moment against a hip. Sam
preened unconsciously when fingers danced into his
hair, threading their way through damp, disheveled
strands with gentle strokes.
“God, Sam.” Hunter’s voice was rock-bottom
rough. Sam smiled. He’d done that to the other
man. “How could I have been so wrong for so
long?” he contemplated quietly.
“Shh.” Sam didn’t want him thinking. Not yet.
Because thinking meant realizing what he’d done,
and with whom. It meant coming to terms with
being intimate with another guy. And last, maybe
even worst, thinking meant leaving, and meant
accepting they would be going their separate ways in
a matter of days, if not hours. Sam didn’t want to
feel the heartache. Not yet. Just…not yet.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Oh, mmm. You have to try this.” Hunter held his

fork up across the table, waiting expectantly. Sam
went to handle the fork, and Hunter inched it out of
reach. “No,” he scolded gently. “Let me.”
Sam lowered his eyes, feeling heat grow on his
cheeks. He hated when he blushed, but he couldn’t
stop it either.
“Is that wrong?”
Sam whipped up, discovering an insecure shadow
stealing some of the pleasure from Hunter’s eyes.
“No!” He reached out and caught his hand, holding
him steady before he took the fork away. “It’s
sweet.” He didn’t know how else to explain it or if
that’s what Hunter had been going for. The smile
blooming on Hunter’s sexy lips took care of the
dilemma.
“Good. Now, taste.” He wiggled the fork again,
and this time, Sam willingly leaned forward to have
the prawn placed between his lips with the playfully
intimate gesture.
“Oh, God,” he moaned, chewing slowly, his taste

buds throwing a party.
“I know. Right?” Hunter smiled, laughter
warming his voice again.
They sat together at one of the rear tables of the
dining restaurant, enjoying a quiet dinner for two.
After their interlude earlier, Sam had let Hunter
doze. He’d quietly stolen into the bathroom to
alleviate his own pressure problems, then returned
to curl up with Hunter. Sam had been more than
surprised, and maybe a little giddy, at waking to find
himself bundled into those tanned, muscled arms.
He wasn’t going to complain. Hunter was
acclimating quickly to be able to sleep in the same
bed, but Sam wasn’t going to push. Once real life
intruded again, Hunter would forget about his
indiscretions, maybe not necessarily returning to
find a girl right away, but he had a lifetime to
reconcile with the few days he’d known Sam.
Sam on the other hand… He could only enjoy
the time. Returning alone was going to hurt enough
without jumping the gun to start that sob race.
“So, what do you do, you know, work, home,
live? Time to play twenty questions.” Sam teased

him with a wink.
“Oh, well.” Hunter settled his hands clasped over
his plate, dangling his fork from between loose
fingers over the mountain of food. Sam envied his
metabolism. “I’m a CAD designer.”
“You create scoundrels?” he asked, suitably
aghast.
Hunter coughed, covering his mouth quickly with
a napkin. “Not quite. I develop business building
models.”
“Like skyscrapers and stuff?”
“That’s one of my areas, yeah.”
“Cool.” He waved a hand. “Keep going.”
Hunter shrugged. “Well, you know how old I am.
Know I was almost married.”
“Where do you live?” Sam didn’t want him to
dwell on that part of his recent past.
“Southern Pennsylvania. What about you? You
didn’t say.”
“Pensacola, Florida. Born and raised.”
“Really?”

Sam nodded, taking a bite of his beef. He was
really going to miss the food. He speared a strip.
“Here. Your turn.”
Hunter didn’t hesitate, tilting forward to open his
mouth. Honey lashes coasted down as he savored
the bite. He moaned in delight. “That is so good. I
can’t cook for shit.”
“I’m not a TV chef, but I can manage.”
“If you can read a recipe, you’re a mile ahead of
me. I always screw it up.” He frowned, dropping his
focus away.
“Hunter?” He didn’t respond right away, lost in
some memory that by all appearances was not a
good one. “Hey, it’s okay. I can’t draw a straight line
to save my life.” Hunter finally looked up for Sam.
Slowly, the shadows bled away, leaving a dark hue,
clear and bright staring back at him. Damn, but he
was gorgeous. And he’s never going to be mine. So long
as he kept reminding himself, maybe Sam would
leave the resort with some of his pride if not his
heart.
“I almost didn’t come at all, but too much of the

honeymoon was nonrefundable.” He pushed a large
prawn across his plate before he held it up to
inspect it.
“Then it’s not a honeymoon. It’s a fabulous
vacation.” Sam tried to put a brighter spin on it for
him.
Hunter shifted, lowering his speared dinner. “I
guess.”
“Hey. Tomorrow? What can we do tomorrow
that is nothing but out of this world, insane fun?”
“Parasailing? I think there’s a tour to one of the
other islands, an old fort or pirate lair.”
“That sounds cool. I didn’t look into doing a
whole lot.”
“Why not?” Hunter asked.
“I was here alone. Guessed I’d kick back and relax
as much as possible.”
“Wait. You live in Florida, but you came to a
sandy island to do the exact same thing you could
do at home?” Hunter openly scoffed at him.
“Fine.” Sam closed some of the space between
them, lowering his voice. “I didn’t because I didn’t

have anyone to share it with, okay? If I didn’t do
anything to amplify that fact, then skipping things
wouldn’t even bother me.”
“We’re fixing that. Tomorrow.” Hunter’s eyes
narrowed. “Oh, hell. How much longer are you
here?”
Sam sat back, sighing. God, how he’d hoped to
avoid this. He didn’t want to get depressed. He
hated thinking this, their friendship, any of it, had
an expiration.
“I still have three days.”
“Awesome,” Hunter breathed with a cheery grin.
“I have four.” Hunter took him by surprise. He
reached across the table and gripped his forearm,
giving him a light squeeze. “We’re going to tear this
island up. Starting with finishing dinner and stuffing
ourselves on dessert. Tomorrow, we’re going to do
as much as we can and I have it on very good
authority the massage can’t be missed.”
Sam smiled, a short grin until it was full blown,
unable to deny Hunter. If it would make him happy,
Sam was willing to spend the time with him. He
wanted memories to take home. “If you’re sure.”

“Trust me. I’m already here with the closest
friend I have.”
“Yeah?” Sam’s heart jumped. When Hunter
nodded, he whispered, “Me too.”

§

§

§

Hunter kicked at the foamy surf, making a sheet
of seawater spray outward. The droplets sparkled
like diamonds beneath the starry sky, flames from
the closest tiki-torches illuminating them until they
burned a muted orange. Sam shouted as he dodged
the wall of water. He scowled at Hunter, though it
was a weak effort while trying not to laugh. Music
played from one of the closest bars, and somewhere
behind them on the beach there was a guitar being
strummed. A perfect night in paradise with stars
spread overhead, a warm sea breeze, an entire ocean
to play in and a good friend to share it with. Not
anything like what Hunter had expected, or how
he’d seen this trip.
“When did you know you were gay?” Hunter
swung his new sandals from his fingers, walking
with no rush to be anywhere through the rolling

surf on the sand. He never did find the one sandal
he’d lost the night he got drunk. He could live with
that loss. The ring, on the other hand, was tucked
away in his bag in his room. He refused to even look
at it now.
“Well, I think I might have questioned it when I
was young, like eight or nine. I mean, there are my
dads, right? They’re happy, and a couple, and they
were all I knew.” He leaned over and picked up a
small shell to toss back into the surf. “I honestly
never really worried about it until I had my first
crush. I was seventeen, then I began to really
question.”
“A guy?”
Sam snickered at him, giving him the what part did
you not hear look. “Yes, a very cute senior, actually. I
saw him at one of the fall football games and I
swear, I saw stars.” Sam’s smile was filled with warm
nostalgia. “He was nice. Not gay, but he didn’t make
me into a doorstop either for asking him out. Then
I had the talk with Popo, and he asked me if I was
gay. I told him yes. Then he asked me what I wanted
for dinner.” He shook his head sheepishly, his grin

no less bashful. “I know they knew it long before I
did.”
Huh. He hadn’t been expecting his answer. “What
about your brothers?”
“Nope. Straight as the day is long,” he quipped.
“All three of them.” Sam slowed to face Hunter.
“It’s normal to question yourself after an ordeal like
yours,” Sam offered with patient understanding.
“Question myself?” Hunter stopped short in the
wet sand, wiggling his toes as it squished up
between them. He followed while Sam strolled in
front of him, wondering what he was trying to say,
because Hunter sure wasn’t getting it.
“Hunter, I need to be blunt. Your ex emasculated
you and has for years. Because you were with her for
a long time, you never got to find out what would
make you happy. Never were able to take a step back
and see if there was something else, something or
someone better, maybe. But you don’t have to
worry. What happened between us doesn’t make you
gay.” Sam approached until they stood less than a
few inches apart. He spoke in a lowered tone, like he
wanted to keep Hunter calm. Hunter could feel his

irritation growing, but not for the reasons Sam was
assuming.
“What happened between us? Since I’m not
getting it.” Hunter crossed his arms over his chest,
staring right at Sam. Hunter thought it had been
pretty damned amazing. It would suck if he was the
only one who thought so, though. Staring at Sam
waiting for him to answer, he realized barefoot, Sam
stood barely two inches shorter than Hunter. Not
too short, or tall. Stefani had been a meager five-
three. Another enlightenment. He didn’t like short.
Who knew? He jeered silently.
Sam rolled a shoulder, a hand still tucked into a
pocket. Hunter actually caught it as he slipped on
his Dr. Phil face. It was almost unnerving how easily
it came to him. “Well, it’s not unusual to act on an
attraction when you suddenly realize you have the
freedom of experiencing a full buffet, like at
dinner.”
Hunter cut him off when he drew a breath to
continue. “So you’re saying because I was suddenly
single, was inexplicably horny and you were willing,
that what happened between us wasn’t something

more?”
“I wasn’t going to put it quite like that,” he
groused, glancing away, out to sea.
Hunter almost laid into him again, when he
realized why what Sam said hurt. It hadn’t been a
diversion from the norm because Sam had been
available, not for Hunter. But Sam couldn’t know
that since Hunter was just coming to the realization
himself. It made him tingle inside with all the
newness again. A newness Sam couldn’t trust and
Hunter was barely beginning to understand. Now to
get Sam to see it the same way. Because if Sam’s
expression said nothing else, he wasn’t seeing
Hunter in the same evolving light he was seeing
himself.
He leaned close, lowering his arms. “Every time
you touch me, since we’ve met, I get a hard-on. Do
you have any idea how hard that is to rationalize?
Even drunk, you got to me. The only guys I’ve been
close to are co-workers, and none of them get to me
like you do.” Hunter cupped Sam’s chin, urging him
to look up. “I had to work to stay hard for Stefani.
It was embarrassing to the point where we hadn’t

had sex in almost a year. And before you say
something about why was I still marrying her…” A
stroke of his thumb helped to center his thoughts.
Amazing what he’d let himself believe was normal.
“I wasn’t missing it. I didn’t know she’d been
sleeping with Tim, so she wasn’t looking for it from
me either. I didn’t know until right before she left
she was that sad, or hurting.”
“Why do you think you’re not supposed to be
happy in a relationship? Why can’t there be love?”
Sam asked, sounding genuinely confused and
troubled by the closed view Hunter had lived with
until now.
Hunter let him go and sank down to the sand,
staring out into the surf, black water reflecting the
star-strewn sky. He rested his arms over lifted knees.
His stomach recoiled with the admission he was
about to make. When Sam finally folded to sit
beside him, he said, “My mother left when I was
nine months old. What woman leaves her baby? My
father never married, never dated again. What was
the point?” He couldn’t hide the burn of bitterness
completely. “Not when his mother left Granddad

when Dad was barely four. Only, she walked out
and was later found. She had been abducted and
murdered.”
Sam gasped. “Hunter! She might have come
back,” he tried.
Hunter shook his head. “No. She was found in
Mexico over ten years later.” He stared out at
nothing, not wanting to see Sam’s expression. He
knew how badly her leaving had scarred his dad.
“She had a whole different family and three more
children. When she was found, they traced her back
to her American life first.” Hunter shrugged.
“There’s something in the males of my family that
make us unlovable.”
Hunter shouted with a surprised snarl when Sam
unexpectedly tackled him to damp sand then pinned
his shoulders beneath unforgiving hands.
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up! There is nothing wrong
with you.” Sam’s eyes glittered like a fire roared in
their depths.
“I’m beginning to understand that,” Hunter
growled in answer. The rush of anger he felt was
and wasn’t directed at Sam. More from his past was

making sense, even as he lived moment to moment
there on the beach. He hooked Sam over a shoulder
with a swung leg and flipped them both before Sam
could curse a protest. Glaring down at Sam now
flattened into the cool sand, he panted. “Want to
know why?”
Sam shoved on his chest to no avail. “Okay. Fine.
Why?”
He got in Sam’s face to make his point. “Because
I’m gay. I’ve been expecting and accepting the worst
from the least probable option because I didn’t
know. All these years, I thought I was lucky to have
her because she never gave me shit about my dick.
Until she met Tim, it didn’t matter, then everything
stopped, and I didn’t care. I wasn’t expecting her to
love me. Love like that didn’t exist because I was
defective. Because my whole family was defective.
Since I was defective, the possibility of being gay
never even happened.” Really, if he couldn’t keep
one woman happy in bed, how could he possibly
contemplate being with a man? For years, he
thought it was a wonder and was thankful he had a
girlfriend, someone who at least cared for him, at

all.
“Oh, baby.” Sam’s eyes glistened, their anger
fading in an instant. “You’re not defective.” His
shoves turned into tender caresses across Hunter’s
shoulders.
“I know that now.” Hunter loosened his grip,
sliding fingers into Sam’s hair. It was short, shaggy,
and brown, and Sam was most definitely not a
woman, but he couldn’t stop from wanting to touch,
to run his fingers all through its messy length.
Hunter knew he had a lot to work through,
emphasis on the lot, but he’d figure it out. If it
weren’t for Stefani walking out, he would have
never known the truth, period, and would have
probably continued for years believing there was
something wrong with him. Waking to the
realization he, in fact, liked guys, liked Sam, never
would have happened at home, once he returned. It
was a disaster in the making.
He began to grin a little playfully, a hint of devil
thrown in for challenge. “In fact, it’s because of you
I can do this…” He inched up Sam’s prone length
with an undulating crawl until Hunter covered him

and very obviously pressed his hardening cock into
Sam’s front. “Because I want to.” He managed to
utter those words through a hoarse groan that
almost made speaking impossible. Desire surged like
a relentless fire within as they aligned. Heat and
hardness struck like lightning against nerves.
“Because it feels right.” Hunter paused, watching
Sam’s reactions carefully, and thrilling at how
potent those reactions were on his own wants. The
part of Sam’s lips was drawing him deeper into
wanting to kiss him. Brown eyes that were as bright
and expressive as starlight. “So tell me something.”
He waited for Sam to meet his gaze and for him to
cautiously, excitedly nod. “Whose room are we
going to?”

CHAPTER NINE

Sam licked at his lips, tasting the salt of the sea

breeze on them. A deep breath was filled with the
same and the undeniable maleness of Hunter’s skin,
so close.
“How could you have ever thought you were
defective, baby?” Sam asked gently, avoiding
Hunter’s question. He wasn’t sure Hunter really
knew what he was asking of Sam, and Sam wasn’t
going to take advantage of his inexperience. He
kneaded strong shoulders, melting a little more
beneath the tender swirls of fingertips and thumbs
in his hair in return.
Hunter’s shadowed eyes dropped away from his
and a hard, slow breath rocked Hunter’s frame.
“Imagine living in a household of bitterness.
Imagine your dads hating everything and anything
having to do with the other, if one were a woman.
It’s more than being sexist. Granddad is gone, but
Dad is still vocal. He tolerated Stefani, because I
cared for her. We fought more than once after I
asked her to marry me. I thought she was the best I

could do.” Hunter stopped, lashes lowering while
pain deepened the shadows in his eyes. “When I
told him what she did, he didn’t say sorry. He said,
and I quote, ‘I told you so. Should’ve listened.
Women are not good for marrying’.” Hunter
drooped even further. “There was more, but it’s not
worth repeating.”
It took a few minutes before Sam’s slow caresses
running along his nape, through his hair and over
his shoulders broke through Hunter’s pain, calming
him enough to bring his focus to Sam. Sam didn’t
push him away; instead he cradled Hunter in
comfort. It was going to be a while before Hunter
was healed over the damage not only his father and
ex had caused, but the issues he’d suffered in his
upbringing alone. It pained Sam to see them, to feel
them under his sweeping fingers.
“Baby, let me tell you something. Women are no
different than us. They want affection, want love,
and want to feel loved. I don’t know her, but she
had reasons for doing what she did the same as you
had reasons for staying, and then for leaving. Maybe
she wanted to prove your father wrong by staying

with you to marry you. Maybe she did care for you.”
He continued to stroke and pet with a soothing
pattern. “The only way you’ll know the truth is to sit
down with her and talk, ask her. I can’t tell you what
to do, but I do know the only way you’ll be able to
put all of this behind you is to physically get it out
in the open.”
Hunter sighed, lowering to press against Sam’s
shoulder. “I know. I was mad, then upset and hurt,
then…” He brushed a loving kiss to Sam’s neck and
rolled them both to their sides, keeping Sam tucked
close in his arms. “I wondered why I was so mad if I
knew I didn’t love her. Why did I fail? What was
wrong?” Luminous eyes rose and held Sam
spellbound. “I know now. It makes a lot more sense,
anyway. I didn’t look at other women when we were
together, and looking at a guy was anathema. It
never would have been an option then.”
Sam grinned. “Can I tell you something?”
Hunter hiked a shoulder. “Sure.”
“I love it when you use big words.” He growled
low in his throat, twitching his eyebrows in jest,
determined to lighten the moment, though it was

the full truth. Intelligence in a guy turned him on in
big ways.
Hunter groaned a quiet laugh, a slow ripple
rolling over his body with it. “So that’s all it takes to
impress you?”
“Well, that and how much you love grilled
prawns.”
“Hey! Those were good!” Hunter cried in quiet,
playful indignation.
Sam ran his hand from Hunter’s shoulder down
his chest, a slow sweep of his palm, thankful to feel
the tension beneath his fingertips fading. Warm skin
against his kept the chill of cool sand away. Tender
fingers brushed his body, learned, then went back
and repeated their caring touches, mimicking his
own. He could so easily fall into the trap, the one
where he let himself imagine more with Hunter, a
future. But he knew it wasn’t going to happen.
There was too much for Hunter to work through. It
wasn’t as though he didn’t have his own brand of
baggage. They lived in different parts of the country.
And he still wasn’t convinced Hunter was gay. The
seriousness of the emotional trauma he’d suffered

was too large to chuck an entire lifetime as he knew
it. Whether he’d loved Stefani or not, there wasn’t a
switch to power the gay in him. He detested the
ideology, and wouldn’t dream of painting Hunter
with that ugly brush.
Aside from those obvious points, they were
secluded, in a private paradise where there were no
rules, no demands. It would be all too easy to relax
into the dream, to float on the river of pleasure and
succumb to the sheer wonder of this new attraction
making his body heat and his heart want.
He buried his nose into Hunter’s chest,
swallowing his own laughter. Waxing poetic. Oh, boy
was he screwed.
“You didn’t answer me.” Hunter’s lips grazed
Sam’s temple. “I want to rinse off the sand. Your
shower or mine?”
Sam arched to stare up into those bold eyes.
“Feeling braver?”
Hunter threaded loose fingers through Sam’s
hair, one stroke after another. “I know I like doing
this,” he said, nearing to nibble at Sam’s chin. The
slick, slow heat of Hunter’s tongue had Sam’s eyes

closing like slammed doors. “Feels different,
rough.” He did it again, then hummed. “I like it.”
Sam arched, allowing Hunter more room to
explore, even if the light, teasing strokes were killing
him. The last time he’d had a slow make-out session
had been… Wow. That long ago. Sam couldn’t really
remember. He burrowed fingers into Hunter’s scalp,
massaging and kneading in encouragement. Then
gasped when one of Hunter’s hands glided over his
body. He was definitely becoming more curious,
braver.
“Good?”
The breathy hesitance in the one word had Sam’s
eyes opening to seek Hunter’s gaze. “Feels
incredible.” He didn’t evade when Hunter leaned
closer, a growing intensity arcing between them. The
heat in his dark gaze sizzled, a new kind of wanting,
exciting Sam. A need he couldn’t run from was
pushing against his skin, craving more from the man
holding him.
“What does it mean?”
Sam drew a slow breath. “What, baby?” His heart
was pounding, edging himself closer to the cliff, a

precipice Hunter was driving him toward.
“I want to touch you, want to taste you.” His
expression vanished when he dipped down to nibble
at Sam’s bare shoulder. A groan followed the gentle
bite. “Fucking amazing.”
Sam melted, sinking to the sand drawing Hunter
over him as he moved. Hunter’s body was outlined
by the stars overhead, shadows thick but his features
still clear enough. “I want to touch you too,” he
breathed.
With a firm nod, Hunter hopped up from the
sand, slipping from Sam’s embrace as he did.
Thrusting a hand out, Sam clutched his fingers and
allowed Hunter to heft him from the sand. “God,
you’re strong,” Sam stated, holding on tighter to not
lose his solid grip.
Hunter grinned mischievously. Then, like a
teenager showing off, flexed his arms in a Mr.
Universe pose. “Take that.”
Sam laughed. “Still trouble.” Especially since he
wanted to lick the muscled playground all over
again. Take his time and really explore Hunter’s
body. Oh crap. He bit at his lip when he remembered

he didn’t have any condoms. Or lube for that
matter. Sex hadn’t exactly been one of his planned
activities.
Jumping the gun, Sam. He doubted Hunter was
ready for the next step. And there was plenty they
could do together without actually fucking.
Watching the strength of Hunter’s shoulders from
beneath lowered lashes as they walked away from
the beach, he couldn’t help the craving when it rose
up and bit at him. He’d give anything to feel
Hunter’s body beneath him. To share his pleasure.
Hear his moans as Sam made his body cry out with
blissful release.
Sam had to take this slow. Hunter needed and
deserved the deepest level of respect. There was as
much of a chance that the moment of truth would
prove once and for all Hunter wasn’t gay.
On the tail end of his last thought, he certainly
wasn’t expecting it when Hunter reached out for,
and found his hand, twining their fingers together.
When Hunter peeked at him with a question in his
eyes, Sam was powerless to inch closer and walk at
his side while holding on to those fingers a little bit

tighter.
Hunter felt lighter than he could remember ever
feeling. Since that afternoon, his world was making
sense. His lack of interest, his apathy even, for
women made absolute sense. His self-esteem had
taken a brutal bashing over the years because he
didn’t pursue women the way most of the boys in
high school did. Didn’t brag about conquests, or
who he was seeing, or who he planned on getting it
on with. It had made him even more quiet than
most. He’d been shy in school, unaware his father
had carved a lot of his perceptions of the world for
him already. Why chase or crave a woman when
they were so worthless? It was only one of the many
reasons he’d clung to Stefani for so long.
Thinking back, he couldn’t help noticing women
as he matured. They were everywhere. The concept
of noticing guys, however, never clicked. Hunter
realized now on some level, he’d been doing that
too. Whether it was in gym class, or out in public,
he’d admired guys, usually for a sharp haircut, or a
kind smile, but had never moved the concept
beyond congenial like. He was a guy. Guys were

supposed to like girls. Well, unless you lived with his
dad.
Hunter didn’t even try to have sex with Stefani
until they were seniors nearly graduating. He
shuddered at the debacle that had been. Even
though Stefani had sympathized and had been
supportive, sex had dwindled in the last several
years.
Was it any wonder then that she ran to Tim?
“I should tell you, I asked her to marry me years
ago,” Hunter blurted, and another lock around his
chest sprang loose, alleviating more of the defeat
and torment he’d harbored.
“Really?” Sam seemed genuinely surprised.
Hunter kept their hands locked together, needing
the contact. He liked having Sam’s palm in his as he
worked his way through the morass his life had
become in the last several weeks. “We set the date
about two years ago.” He glanced up, though really
didn’t see what was before them, seeing more of his
past instead. “It was before we really began to drift
apart. Kind of foolish, I guess.” She must’ve thought I
was the biggest loser. He hid his inner turmoil, the

doubts still plaguing him. So he’d been sucked off
by Sam. It wasn’t exactly worth a medal to know his
body hadn’t let him down. This time.
“No.” Sam was firm. “Was she fighting to be let
loose? Was she making it uncomfortable for you?”
“No. Actually, she was very understanding.” He
sighed. So many regrets. And how much of it had
been pity? He prayed he never found out. “At least
until the end. That’s why I honestly thought it was
me. That I liked being with her, cared for her. I
couldn’t be what she needed but I did my best to
make it up to her.” It didn’t stop her from falling
into the bed of the next guy.
Sam cleared his throat. “Can I ask something?”
“Sure.” At this point, Sam knew more than any
other person alive. There wasn’t a reason to not tell
him what he wanted to know.
“How often did you have sex?”
“Once every couple of months, I guess. Maybe
once a month.”
Sam stopped in his tracks. Wide brown eyes
glinted in the moonlight. “Holy hell. Are you

serious?”
Hunter’s lungs burned. “Um, yeah. Why? Is that
too often?” Okay, some things were a little
unnerving to share after all. They’d been together
for years; there hadn’t been pressure to have sex.
Isn’t that normal? Being comfortable with each other?
Sam shook his head. “I’d have you naked and in
bed every night, every morning. I’m not even sure
I’d let you out of it.”
Embarrassment flooded Hunter and he tried to
laugh through it, which sounded more like a dry
bray. “Are you serious?”
Sam hunted around them, finding they were still
mostly alone on the beach, and then got right into
his personal space, chest to chest. “Think about this,
baby. Naked, just this afternoon, and you want it
enough, right now, to get the same way again. And
trust me, I’m right there with you. If I had my way,
I’d spend the next three days with you in bed and
never get out of it.”
Heat suffused Hunter’s face until he felt it
burning. He wasn’t used to being looked at like that,
with so much desire and need he felt it all the way

down to his bones. “Come on, Sam. Sex is just sex.”
He said what came naturally, and knew as soon as
he did, it was wrong. It felt wrong.
Sam arched an eyebrow. “Really? Just sex? Like
what we had this afternoon? That little something
special?” He frowned. “Unless…” Sam withdrew,
creating a gap between them, glancing down at their
joined hands while a frown brought his eyebrows
together. His voice grew quieter. “I guess I am
reading too much into this after all. So what am I?
What is this? An experiment?”
“No!” Hunter dragged his free hand through his
hair. “No,” he repeated calmer. “I’m sorry. That
wasn’t right. I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t.” He
cupped Sam’s face in his palm. “This afternoon was
amazing. I do want it, you, again.”
More than willing to prove it, he eased Sam’s face
upward, bringing his lips close. “I don’t know how
this is supposed to work, but I know what I’m
feeling with you, like this, and it’s incredible.”
Hunter watched shadows and questions flit
through brown eyes. Eyes which, at that moment,
were reflecting the stars overhead like little comets

in their depths, soaring and falling.
“Is it okay to say you have beautiful eyes? Do gay
guys do that?”
Sam’s lashes lowered, taking those same eyes away
from Hunter’s view. His beckoning lips parted on a
stuttered chuckle. Another part of him which was
slowly beginning to make a large impact on Hunter.
Because he really wanted to kiss them again, on his
own, without being asked.
“You do whatever is comfortable for you,
Hunter. That is all that matters. I really doubt you
would do something to hurt me.”
“Yeah?” he whispered, bringing them chest to
chest once more.
Sam swallowed, licking at his bottom lip before
answering. “Yes, baby.”
A shiver struck with the gentle endearment, one
Hunter hadn’t heard in over a year and hadn’t
realized he’d missed. No. He hadn’t missed it from
Stefani. He’d missed hearing it from someone who
mattered, someone who cared, and realized Sam had
been using it since earlier in the afternoon. Blood

rushed with desire, beating beneath skin with a
driving rhythm. And again, his dick was hard in his
shorts, without spending half an hour trying to
convince it to participate, without humiliation.
Without begging or disappointment. He wanted,
hungrily desired, Sam on a level that eclipsed any
woman he’d ever seen.
Sam was a total man. Someone you could three-
man with on the basketball court. Someone good
for a beer after work. Brown eyes and brown hair,
not-quite-plain wrapping hiding a man anyone
would be glad to have at their six. He wasn’t pretty.
He wasn’t feminine. Hard angles and broad
shoulders. A flat chest and toned muscles. He was…
Sexy. The thought was illuminating. Hunter leaned
into him, this time keeping Sam still with a firm,
gentle hand and a stare.
“I want to kiss you, Sam.”
Sam tilted into his palm a fraction. “Please,” he
breathed.

CHAPTER TEN

Hunter remembered the kisses they’d already

shared. He could remember the rush of heat, the
newness of it, the taste of firmer lips, a thrusting
tongue.
He groaned before they even touched, thinking
about it. Sam’s lips were warm, a sweet curve to the
bottom lip giving him an innocent smile without
trying. Hunter really liked that about his bottom lip.
He teased at Sam with the tip of his tongue and the
fingers clutched in his squeezed in answer, a soft
moaned gasp breaking free between them.
He didn’t know who took the step, and didn’t
really care when their bodies came together, not an
inch of space between them. Muscled chests
pressing for hard contact. The grind of hips proved
Sam was as turned on as he was. It was all he could
do to stay on his feet. Need rushed through his
body. The push of Sam’s tongue between his teeth
was strong, and he met the challenge. A shudder
rocked Sam in response, striking an answering
chord deep within Hunter. A mating, a meeting,

that was perfect.
Panting, they broke apart. Hunter clutched Sam
refusing to let him go far. His forehead lowered to
rest on Sam’s. He stood there stunned, amazed and
dazed. Kissing Stefani, in hindsight, was like kissing
a sock. “Oh, man.” Hunter’s heart was beating like
he’d run the hundred-yard dash. Sam snuggled
against Hunter, brushing lips to skin when he
turned. Hunter didn’t want him to stop.
“Baby?” Sam said to Hunter.
“Hmm?”
“I think we have company.”
Hunter blinked his eyes open feeling lightheaded.
It took a few seconds, but he spotted the couple
nearing them with a strolling pace.
“Wasn’t sure if you wanted an audience.” Sam
offered a final soft kiss to Hunter’s jaw.
“Kind of lucky it took this long,” Hunter
remarked.
The curve of Sam’s smile against his neck
renewed the increased tempo of his heart. “You
taste so good.” A contented sigh punctuated Sam’s

words.
Hunter watched as the shadows formed shapes.
“It’s two guys.”
“Oh?” Sam twisted to see over a shoulder. “They
were on the snorkeling trip with us.”
“They were?”
Sam wound an arm around Hunter’s waist to rest
a cheek on a shoulder, sharing space. Hunter wasn’t
going to tell him not to. He honestly hadn’t noticed
anyone else on their day trip aside from Julie and
her husband. No one but the man currently holding
on to him mattered.
He drew a slow breath, amazed all over again at
how things which had never made sense, finally
aligned. The tang of salt water and sand were on
Sam’s skin, but there was something rich, enticing,
pure male and drew him in a way perfume or
anything sweet never had.
“Is Sam short for something?” Hunter wondered
absently, enjoying the quiet with the sound of the
sea nearby.
“Samuel.”

When Hunter looked up again, he noticed the
nearing pair had halted a few yards away and were
watching them unashamedly. “Guess we got the
audience anyway.”
Sam raised his head enough to offer a smile. The
pair shared a look and cautiously approached. “Hi,”
Sam greeted them.
“Hi,” one returned. “Sorry to interrupt. We
thought we were the only two here. Kind of took us
by surprise.”
Sam drew a breath to speak but Hunter flattened
a hand to his back. He felt Sam tense and knew what
was running through his mind. Easy enough to fix.
Though it seemed pretty clear they were together, at
least for Hunter. Guys don’t stand around in
intimate embraces for shits and grins.
“I’m Hunter. This is Sam.”
The one who’d spoken first held out a hand. “I’m
Peter and this is Adam.” Hunter reluctantly released
Sam to face the other two. He noticed they wore
rings, the gold glinting in the moonlight and
surrounding torches. “Where are you guys from?”

Peter asked.
“Sam is from Florida, and I’m from Pennsylvania.
We met here.”
“Really?” Adam linked fingers with Peter and
leaned into his shoulder.
They were both easily in their forties, and seemed
very happy. And unbelievably comfortable as a
couple. Was he ever that comfortable, at ease, with
Stefani? Something for him to think about later.
“That’s actually kind of romantic,” Adam
remarked.
Peter grinned and kissed Adam’s temple. “He’s a
romantic at heart. We’re from New Hampshire. This
is our anniversary trip. Twenty years.”
“Wow,” Sam breathed with a note of awe. “That’s
incredible. Enjoying it?”
“Tons,” Adam replied with a meaning-filled wink.
“Behave,” Peter teased him. Adam got a rolled
shoulder and a gamine smile in answer. “We’ll let
you enjoy your evening.”
“Thanks,” Hunter said, watching them wander off
along the shoreline. “Nice guys.”

“That’s amazing they’ve been together so long.
My dads have been together for close to forty years.
I always thought they were the anomaly, considering
what the divorce rate is.”
Hunter wound an arm around Sam, the fit
natural, bracing them hip to hip. “Are they
married?” He began to guide Sam toward the
bungalows. He’d spent enough time on the beach
for now. He really wanted to get Sam behind a
closed door.
Sam sighed. “Yes and no. They are legally
married, but Florida isn’t one of the states that
recognizes it.”
“Recognizes it?” His answer didn’t make any kind
of sense to Hunter.
“It’s a long, drawn out ordeal.” Sam tipped and
gave him a wan smile, asking for his understanding.
“Not now. Okay?”
“Whatever you want.” He lowered to Sam’s lips
and offered a soft kiss, one Sam readily accepted. He
moaned when he let him go. “Damn.”
Sam weaved unsteadily then braced himself with a

palm flat to Hunter’s chest. “That’s not fair.”
“What?” Hunter egged him, but couldn’t help
feeling a little surge of pleasure at the dazed
expressions flitting over Sam’s features. An arched
eyebrow told him perfectly well what he was doing
to Sam. But it didn’t hurt his ego any to have it
confirmed. “Come on.”
Sam slipped an arm around Hunter’s waist and
dug a finger through a belt loop, holding on.
“Do you have your key?” Hunter asked Sam.
He fished it out of a pocket. “Why my room?”
“I could say because it’s closer, but really, it’s
because my room is what’s left of a really screwed
up guy and a failed marriage that almost happened.”
“Hunter.” Sam soothed him with a hand on his
arm, caressing up and down.
“I like the way I feel when I’m in this room,” he
added, quieter, staring right into Sam’s eyes. There
was a sense of freedom in this room.
Sam inched his hand upward and cupped the
back of his head. “You’re amazing, wherever you
are.”

Hunter slid the key into the door mechanism and
pushed it open when the door unlocked. He didn’t
remember bringing them into the room, only
pinning Sam against the door once it was closed
behind them. “You, Sam, are the amazing one,” he
stated with firm conviction. Blocking Sam with a
stiff arm, he straddled his hips where he flanked the
door. He held Sam still with a hand on his hip.
Hunter’s breathing was growing haggard with each
pulsating second. “You, just like this. I don’t know
what it means, and I have even less of an idea of
how this will work, but I will never find another like
you.” Don’t want anyone else. Not a woman. Not a
man. Just Sam. The words were on the tip of his
tongue, but something held him back. Whether it
was the magic of the moment allowing him to say
what he did, or simply being here, he could do as he
pleased, naturally, as he felt it should be, yet he
couldn’t add those four words. Something held him
back. Fear. Uncertainty. He wasn’t ready for what
came next.
He prayed some day, soon, he would be. Hunter
would give anything in that moment to know this

feeling was a future he could strive for. To know it
wasn’t a mistake, or worse a dream to fade and
become nothing more than a memory. To know and
prove his dad had been wrong all these years. That
he could feel like this and it was right.
If only there was some way to know if Sam felt
the same way. Confusion was a regular problem
since meeting Sam. But if Sam felt like this, this
wild, crazy, flying-high soaring feeling… Was this
what he should have felt with Stefani? Was this the
beginning to something deeper? Love?
Oh, God. Hunter quivered, hiding it by burying
himself into the warm skin of Sam’s neck and
shoulder. Everything was hitting him with the force
of an avalanche over the last few days. Yet once he
was pressed against warm skin, he needed to find
Sam’s taste on his tongue.
And like the deluge of a waterfall flowing over a
mile-high precipice, his mind was swept clear of all
his troubling conundrums. There was only Sam.
Only the heat of his skin. Only his flavor on
Hunter’s tongue.
“Not drunk tonight,” Sam said, though it was

hoarse.
“No. Not drunk.” He raised enough to meet
Sam’s searching eyes. “I know exactly what I’m
doing. Do you want me to stop?”
“No, fuck no,” Sam groaned. “Need you. So
much.”
“Sam. Sexy, sweet, Sam,” Hunter growled against
Sam’s throat, feeling the way his pulse leaped
beneath his lips with each word. Words he’d once
believed were empty had become powerful. He
stroked his tongue over the pounding vein and
watched Sam’s head sink to the door, his eyes closed
tight. Harsh pants rocked his chest and his fingers
clutched at Hunter, at his waist, at his shoulders,
wherever he could find purchase.
Now Sam was beautiful, lost in passion.
Drowning in desire and need, a hunger Hunter
created for him. Hunter felt electric, every brush of
skin a small shock pushing his heart into a faster
gear, making his skin sensitive to every caress and
breath.
“God, Sam. Baby. My baby,” he said. And
realized how badly he wanted this to be real.

Maybe for the next three days, it could be.
Hunter straightened and plundered Sam’s mouth,
kissing him like Hunter’s last breath was Sam’s. Sam
melted, shivered and clung, strong arms gliding
around Hunter’s shoulders and hanging on with a
steel strength.
“Mm, yes,” Hunter managed. He suckled at Sam’s
throat, his lips, dropped light kisses to his closed
eyelids, and then returning to the heat of his kiss.
Wrapping an arm around his back, he urged Sam off
the door and brought him into his own chest.
“Okay?”
Sam grunted his approval, his tongue lashing
against Hunter’s in a frenzied kiss. Wondering on
something Sam had said earlier, he smoothly hefted
Sam into his arms and was rewarded by a gasp and a
pleased, wide-eyed stare right before Sam wrapped
his legs around Hunter’s waist.
“You like?”
“Shit yes! I love how strong you are.” Sam’s
lashes lowered but there was no hiding the heat of
pleasure on his face. “I love the feeling of a strong

man. It’s a huge turn-on.”
“Baby.” The sweetness of the one nickname was
coming a lot easier to his lips if it was for Sam. A
fresh shiver sliced down Sam. “That okay?”
Those lowered lashes hid a lot from Hunter, but
he could tell how it was getting to Sam. Short,
abrupt breaths. A flush bloomed on his face. Lips
that were swollen and berry red from their kisses.
Hunter didn’t strain at all under his weight for the
few feet it took to move from the front of the room
to the bedroom and the bed.
Hunter eased him to the bed, following him
down to eclipse Sam’s body with his own.
“Amazing. So sweet. You’re a very special man,
Samuel Rooney.”
Sam blinked in shock, and his eyes zeroed in on
him. “You remember.”
Hunter’s smile was patient. “I remember a lot,
and baby, you’re unforgettable.”
Sam pressed a set of fingers to his mouth. “Shh.
Now. Here. I don’t want to think about after.” The
first sign of resignation dampened the sparkle in

those brown eyes.
Hunter took a breath. The things he wanted to
say. Promises he wanted to make.
He couldn’t. Finally, he nodded. Sam was right.
There was now. They had three days. Hunter’s life
was still going to be there waiting when he stepped
off the airplane in Harrisburg to get home to
Hanover, the same as Sam’s would be in Pensacola.
And Hunter had a long road to travel before he
could make any kind of decision as to what he was
going to do once he was home. What kind of future
he’d be looking at. Not what he wanted to be
thinking about right then.
“You’re right,” he finally conceded. “Just you and
me.”
“I really like that,” Sam agreed with a sweet smile.
The sparkle gradually returned to brighten his eyes,
all for Hunter.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sam followed the innumerable emotions and

thoughts as they flew like clouds over Hunter’s eyes.
Simple shadows or deeper eddies proved how much
turmoil he was dealing with. The man’s life had
completely unwound in the last few days. From
being engaged, to being jilted, to discovering a
whole side of himself he’d never even suspected
existed. If he could accept it. If he could embrace it
after they left the privacy of the resort. It was the
only real fear Sam had — that Hunter would retreat
and continue as he had because it was all he’d
known for almost thirty years. Sam craved, outright
hungered for the man staring down at him at right
that second. Sam had never encountered a man like
Hunter, and couldn’t help fantasizing for something
more, even though he knew it was doomed. To
distract himself from the whirling storm of his own
thoughts, he wound light fingers through blond
hair, feeling the weight fall across the skin of his
hand and down his forearm.
Hunter’s eyes fluttered to close beneath the
sensual caress. “Feels good,” he sighed.

Sam didn’t say it, but he thought it was more than
telling Hunter’s button was touch, being touched
and caressed, and Sam was a very physical person.
Loved getting his hands all over his lover. Another
reason why he had to keep reminding himself there
was no real hope for this, for them. Just because
they melded perfectly, could do so much for each
other, didn’t mean they had a prayer for more
beyond the beaches outside his door.
The shell of Hunter’s ear slid like silk beneath his
roaming. Lifting strands of golden hair, he found a
birthmark behind his earlobe. “God, that is sexy,”
Sam whispered, pressing a thumb to it. He could
nibble on the one spot for hours.
Hunter quivered in his hold. “Hmm?”
“You have a diamond-shaped birthmark right
here.” He caressed it with a light fingernail, thrilling
at the shivers that rocked Hunter’s larger frame.
Then because he really couldn’t resist, he inched up
from the bed and latched onto it with his mouth.
Hunter stiffened, gasping out in pleasure. Sam
stroked it with his tongue, absorbing the flavor of
Hunter’s skin and raw heat.

“Fuck, Sam.” Hunter whimpered.
I wish you would. He lingered on the birthmark to
keep his mouth busy so he didn’t speak. A lot
harder than he’d thought it would be, stifling the
raging need. Hunter’s hands were gliding from his
shoulders, up and down Sam’s arms. Sam held
Hunter where he stretched above him on his
elbows, pinning Sam easily to the bed with his
broader frame.
Then Hunter wiggled a hand between them. A
rasped groan and a shift of his weight proved he’d
adjusted his cock in his shorts. But instead of
withdrawing, he ran a hesitant, investigating palm
over Sam’s full shape.
He buried himself into Hunter’s shoulder to
muffle his moan. His hips lifted on their own,
seeking more firm pressure.
“That’s good?”
Sam gulped, desperate for air. His lungs ached as
he tried to control his moans, sought air, almost
desperate to breathe. Then Hunter squeezed him, a
full palm meet cock squeeze. Sam whimpered.

“Shit.”
Hunter slipped to a hip to rest on the bed, his lips
right at Sam’s temple and his hand growing surer,
taking Sam to Heaven. “Never…feels so good.
Touching you.”
Sam was whining. His hands fisted into Hunter’s
shirt. When he thrust into Hunter’s teasing palm, he
followed through, pushing down to give him a full
gripped squeeze through fabric.
Then Sam was being devoured, like the kiss at the
door. A full ravaging of his senses. Hunter was
definitely growing more assured with each kiss, with
each touch. In fact, it took a few seconds for Sam to
realize Hunter had released the button on his shorts
and was even then opening the front.
“Hunter? Oh, fuck.” His spine tightened in
anticipation while thrashing a little to make him
hurry. “Shit, yes. Touch me. Squeeze my dick.” He
groaned, his mouth set on full babble.
“Talk dirty, baby.” Hunter licked Sam’s neck, his
voice raw with lust. “Turns me on like crazy.”
Sam felt ready to combust. He loved a talker?

Good to know. Sam’s mouth didn’t have an
emergency stop button once it got going. He
groaned as Hunter’s palm became a wicked
instrument of evil pleasure. Sam jerked at the shirt
he wore, ripping it over his head and then Hunter
did the same. Hunter quickly retook his claimed
spot on Sam’s cock once it was gone.
He trembled. All that bared flesh. Ran his hands
over every inch. It wasn’t enough. “All of it. Take it
all off!”
Hunter gave him a hard kiss and bounced from
the bed, dropping his shorts and stripping
everything in one fell swoop. Sam tucked his legs up
and peeled his shorts and underwear free, pitching
his sandals clear across the room in the process.
When Hunter stood naked above him, Sam
yanked him down to the bed with a commanding
hand. “Come on, Viking. Show me what you want
to do,” he challenged, gripping his hair and holding
him right over his own face. “Kiss me. Touch me. I
don’t care. Make me come until I scream.”
Hunter moaned, his eyes dark and wide, staring
fearlessly into Sam’s. That’s what he wanted to see.

Desire so deep and strong nothing would be held
back.
Then Hunter was kissing him, combined with
roving and learning hands on Sam’s body. A press
of a thumb into the meeting of his hip sent a fireball
up Sam’s spine. Hunter released him, both panting
in need of air. He traveled from Sam’s lips to the
side of his jaw, down his throat. Teeth pinched
lightly at the taut tendon and Sam’s toes curled. He
groaned through Hunter’s name, tipping his chin to
give him room for more, encouraging him. Hunter’s
strong body was hot beneath his own touch, palms
splayed and gripping at shoulder and muscles.
Hunter’s scorching mouth was everywhere. Any
shyness had left the building. Soft rumbles and
moans floated up to Sam from where Hunter was
kissing and licking over his chest. Lifting his head to
watch, he sucked a breath. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
Raised honeyed lashes exposed bright and bold eyes,
which pinned him with a laser stare. “Lick me. Use
that tongue.” His head wobbled loose on his neck
when Hunter did. A hissed breath burst from
between his lips when Hunter licked over the

sensitized skin of his nipple.
Hunter swirled over it, then clamped down on
the tortured spot with the strength of a Hoover.
Sam shouted, collapsing to the bed, writhing and
shivering.
Hunter’s hoarse pants filled the room when he
released Sam with a wet pop. “Wow.” He licked
swollen lips.
Sam gasped, trying to catch his breath. “Yeah.
Wow.” He reached and circled his cock
unconsciously, only knowing it needed attention.
The last thing he was expecting was for Hunter to
swat him away from it.
“No way. That is mine. Understood?”
Hunter growled his warning, shooting sparks
down Sam’s frame. Sam whimpered, then fisted the
bedding. His dick was stiff as steel, pulsing with
need. He watched through lowered eyelids as
Hunter aligned their bodies, one muscled thigh
gliding between Sam’s legs.
Sam almost held his breath as Hunter slowly
lowered, investigating. Sam caught his lip between

teeth, his fingers digging deep into the bed sheets.
His entire length quivered with anticipation.
Hunter’s dick was like a rod, stabbing and rolling
above Sam’s leg as he moved in increments, tasting
and nipping with not too gentle teeth, as though
knowing not only how hard he could push the line
but also what it took to turn Sam on.
Hunter moved his hips in tandem to his
explorations, humping to abrade stiff hair against
the skin of his sac. Flesh burned into Sam with each
rocked motion. Fluid smoothed the strokes of his
engorged cock. Hunter’s lips were parted, short
pants of breath rushing in and out as they shared
the sensations. “Shit. Feels amazing.” Shudders
rocked Hunter’s frame as he experienced every
nuance for the first time.
A few agonizing seconds later, he seemed to
come out of the daze, blinking. Then those dark
eyes rose, slowly, taking in all of Sam’s length as
Hunter crawled up his body until he hung right
over him. “Still going to scream for me?” he taunted
with a full-on dare.
Sam was melting. From core to dick, lava surged

through his veins. “Make me.”
Hunter purred, showing pleasure in the challenge.
Lashes fanned over his eyes when he did a very slow,
teasing blink, ratcheting Sam’s needs even higher.
Then in a total flip, Hunter kissed him with the
gentlest, sweetest kiss Sam had ever known. Light
nibbles and slow sips cascaded a fresh wave of goose
bumps down his overheated chest.
The unexpected grip of Hunter’s palm circled
Sam’s shaft and stroked him. “Oh, fuck!” Sam cried
out, and his entire body sizzled, arching and striving
for more of his touch. Hunter’s mouth muffled the
deep shout. The slightest twitch of lips said he knew
perfectly well what he was doing. And he was loving
it.
“Going to find out what makes you scream,”
Hunter warned. He followed his warning with a stiff
lick of his tongue to the jut of Sam’s jaw.
Sam couldn’t keep still, unmoving and only
receiving. He plowed seeking fingers into Hunter’s
hair and gripped, holding on for dear life.
Hunter couldn’t tear his gaze away from the man
beneath him. Sam was… Amazing. Sexy. Incredible.

With his head arched back, absolutely lost in
sensation, he was gorgeous. He was thrown for
another first-time loop as it all sank in. Touching
Sam drove him insane, made his heart race and his
skin feel tight.
Remembering where he was touching him, he
moved his hand. A drop of thin liquid bled to the
tip as he squeezed. Hunter swallowed, in awe. He’d
jacked off; he knew how good this felt. He had no
idea how incredible it would feel doing it for
someone else. How much it turned him on. He
growled as fingers dug into his hair, tugging and
urging as Sam jerked and twitched on the bed. His
eyes slammed shut as Sam kneaded into his scalp,
this side of painful, but he didn’t care. No one had
ever been so…free, passionate. He wanted every
single second of it.
Moving enough to be able to watch his hand, he
swept his thumb through the pearl bead, slicking the
tip of Sam’s cock. Sam shivered, a small whimper
slipping from him. Drawn closer, he bent until his
lips caressed the glossed head.
Sam groaned, low and graveled. The sound was

like whiskey, shocking with a burn the whole way
down. He wanted more. Cautiously, he closed his
eyes and circled smooth flesh with his lips. Firm
hands were still twined through his hair, but they
weren’t pushing him for more. He almost wished
they were so he could take the next step. He pulled
off, licking over the new tingle of his lips, testing.
“Please. So good. Want it. Need you.”
That was impossible to deny. And it was even
more potent than a demanding shove for
compliance. Taking a steadying breath, he caught
the musk of raw skin, hot arousal and semen. The
scent of Sam. A shudder the likes he’d never known
rushed over Hunter. The raw spice made him feel
primal, made him want to mark and bite and keep
Sam. It was another shock to his sense of what
closeness was, a new riddle to decipher over what
he’d been raised believing didn’t even exist, yet here
it was, here he was. And Sam was whimpering and
begging for Hunter’s touch in ways Stefani never
had.
And Hunter had promised to make him scream.
Closing his eyes, he slid taut skin between his

teeth and didn’t stop. Sam lurched, growling and
panting. A moment was all he allowed himself to
adjust. He didn’t want to lose his courage. Spit slid
down the shaft to coat his hand. He squeezed and
stroked, keeping pace with the slick glide he was
mastering, doing what came naturally and what he
personally knew felt fucking incredible. By Sam’s
hissed curses, he was doing something right.
“Shit!” Those fingers in his hair flexed and
gripped in tandem, urging him, encouraging him.
“So fucking good. Yes, eat that cock. Oh, fuck.
Baby,” he growled, a mix of a harsh groan and a
sob. Hunter couldn’t have stopped then if he’d had
to. He wanted more, wanted more of Sam losing it.
Wanted him. Period.
He sucked a little harder, a little deeper, taking
more before he had to fight for a deep breath.
“Oh, yesss, more. Fuck yes! Just…like that!” His
hips were thrusting now, and Hunter did his best to
ride him through it. Sam was mumbling again,
throaty growls and whines filling the room.
“Gonna…shit! Gonna come.” Sam was fucking
Hunter’s mouth with fierce pumps of his hips,

absolutely at Hunter’s mercy. He braced his weight
and shifted enough to put his free hand beneath
Sam’s heavy balls and gave them a solid rolling
squeeze.
“Hunter!” His shout filled the room, echoed off
the walls and less than three seconds later, the
throbbing flesh between his lips shot fluid into his
mouth. He gulped the salty bitterness before he
could think about what he was doing, popping off
to stroke Sam through his orgasm with both hands,
amazed to watch, knowing he was the one who
made him lose it, made him feel so good. Harsh
pants and short moans rumbled Sam’s body beneath
him where he splayed over his abdomen.
“Fuck,” Sam croaked a minute later.
The scent of cum was right under Hunter’s nose.
Following the allure, he buried his nose in Sam’s
groin and inhaled, shuddering as the tangy newness
infiltrated his senses. Sparks flitted across nerves.
Hunter ached with the need for something, a need
for release. As the rush of pleasing Sam faded, he
became very aware of his own body’s crying need
for touch, release. Anything.

“Come here, baby,” Sam called gently, if a little
hoarse.
Hunter swiveled and faced him, sinking to the
bed when Sam urged him to his back.
“Fucking amazing,” Sam gasped, still trying to
catch his breath. His face was flushed, his lips red
and puffy. Then Hunter noticed the hungry gleam in
Sam’s brown eyes when he said, “My turn to make
you scream.”
Hunter bit his tongue to not whimper, already
well aware exactly how talented Sam was.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Sam rolled over on the bed, instinctively seeking

the hard, hot body pressed loosely against his spine.
Hunter shifted, wrapping an arm around his middle,
then snuffled quietly into the pillow to settle into
sleep again. Sam rubbed a slow finger over his eyes,
letting his mind and body wake up at their own
pace. By the light of the room, it had to be
midmorning. It was utterly decadent to sleep so late,
after sleeping so well. Like the Saturday morning
laziness of when he was still a kid. Only it had been
a very long time since he’d awakened held by
another.
Even longer since he’d felt like this. Keeping his
eyes closed, he wallowed in the feeling. Samuel Levi
Rooney was in love.
Big time.
Which meant he was so fucked.
In two days, he had to board the plane that would
take him home. A ride that would put a thousand
miles between him and Hunter once he was home
too. Would Hunter forget about him? Put this, and

Sam, behind him as a diversion from his life?
Nothing more than a fling of a memory? He
desperately wanted Hunter to say everything was
real, that he could see this being something…
perfect.
Sam also knew how unkind reality could be. After
watching one of his best friends fall for a straight
guy, he should’ve learned something.
Apparently he hadn’t.
Thinking about it, he realized it was Paul’s
infatuation with his damned firefighter that was
giving him these doubts over Hunter. Hunter wasn’t
the one running.
Sam was. Or at the least he was keeping a very
stiff arm held out and unmoving feet on terra firma
to not lose perspective on things.
He bit at his lip, curling tense fingers into the
pillow beneath his cheek. Though Hunter hadn’t
said one word about how things would be after,
neither had he. After they said good-bye. After they
returned to their regular lives, jobs, and friends.
Shit. Hunter probably had a huge band of beer

swigging, pool hustling, gym-buff, gorgeous guys he
hung out with. No way was he going to admit to
being gay to a bunch like that. And there was still
the problem of distance. It was like a modern battle
reenactment between the North and South. Sam’s
family wasn’t religious. They all lived by the do unto
others rule. What about Hunter? He almost didn’t
want to ask at all. He knew how much of a hotbed
that alone could be. And jobs?
Sam tucked into the pillow catching the groan in
its fluffed softness, his stomach roiling under the
pressure…and the abyss he was creating.
He knew he’d been bluffing when he’d tried to
convince himself he wasn’t attracted to the big,
blond Viking the night Sam had sat next to him at
the bar. Maybe he hadn’t been looking for sex, but
he hadn’t been strong enough to avoid it, either.
The minute he knew his heart was getting
involved he should have avoided Hunter, stayed in
the water, or the other side of the island.
Now it was too late.
Sam wasn’t the type to wallow in melodramatic
bullshit. He’d get his memories and then go home.

It was the best he knew he could hope for.

§

§

§

Sam trailed Hunter into Hunter’s bungalow later
that afternoon and watched him ooze onto the bed.
“Oh. My. God. What did he do to me?” He
smooshed his face into a pillow. Stretched flat on
his stomach, he was limp from head to toe.
Sam chuckled, recognizing the signs of pure bliss,
sounding as boneless to his own ears. He stretched
out on his back beside Hunter on the king bed,
staring up at the layered shingle ceiling. “Told ya,”
he taunted, grinning like an idiot. He wanted to lay
there and continue his meltdown. He was pretty
sure his bones and organs were safe, but the rest?
Yeah, total meltdown.
Almost three hours ago, they’d sauntered gamely
into the massage room. A good massage, steam
bath, and an aromatherapy rubdown and Sam wasn’t
too sure he’d move again.
“I will never doubt your wisdom again,” Hunter
remarked, sounding groggy, muffled by the pillow.
“You doubted me? I’m wounded!” he cried on a

woeful rasp.
Hunter snorted. He raised his head and
readjusted on the pillow, resting on a cheek to face
Sam. Or at least in his direction; his eyes never
opened. Sam sighed, an absolutely wiped blank slate
of a brain refusing to work as he watched Hunter
drift into sleep beside him.
Sam thought he’d only blinked. Apparently, it was
the longest blink in history. There were shadows in
Hunter’s bungalow now and he was balled up
against Hunter’s chest doing an impersonation of
the world’s largest teddy bear.
He wiggled a little in pure contentment. It was
quickly becoming Sam’s favorite way to wake up. He
frowned when reality smacked him with the can’t-
have-it warning flashing in his face. No, not thinking
about later. He snuggled into the warm embrace and
was rewarded with a light kiss on his ear. Absorbing
body heat, Sam relaxed into the bed. It wasn’t like
he was in a huge hurry to move yet, anyway.
Whatever they’d done to him during his massage
should be outlawed. Or bottled and sold over the
counter.

“You’re right.”
The quiet statement startled Sam. He hadn’t even
been aware Hunter was fully awake yet. “I usually
am,” he replied, tongue in cheek. “Though what
about this time?”
Hunter’s thumb stroked over Sam’s stomach
where he held him, bundled into his frame. “I need
to talk to Stefani. That’s really her name. She’s
Italian.”
“That’s kinda cool,” Sam allowed. At least he
could remove the pretentious mark against her.
“I guess I should have found out sooner, but…
you don’t have a…uh…boyfriend, or something, do
you?” Hunter kind of rushed together the last few
words, sounding not quite sure how to say them or
ask the question.
Sam covered a drifting hand with one of his own,
giving a light squeeze. “No. I haven’t been in a
relationship in a while.”
Hunter sagged against his side, digging into Sam’s
shoulder and neck. “Feels so weird, asking that.”
Sounded like a mild grouch, but not utterly

uncomfortable for him. Of course Hunter would be
respectful of another’s relationship. Hunter would
probably die before he’d ever poach or even think of
stealing someone’s man. Too sweet.
“You’re making this so damned hard, Hunter,” he
whispered.
“I am?”
Sam took a slow breath to steady his heart and his
nerves. He rolled over beneath one caging arm to
face the other man. “What if I said I wanted to see
you next week?”
Hunter gave him a crooked grin. “Sure. Hop on
the highway and I’ll see you in about eighteen
hours.”
“Exactly.” He searched those deep blue pools.
Sam guessed that answered the biggest question.
Hunter wasn’t looking toward the future for them.
He’d been prepared. Whether Hunter was gay or
not, this was only a few days out of his entire life.
Not that Sam blamed him for it. This was a lot to
deal with, to come to terms with. And Sam couldn’t
pressure him to do anything faster than he was

comfortable with. Definitely not because the
thought of leaving Hunter and returning to the
humdrum life he’d been living the last several
months had been put into stark relief by Hunter’s
passion, his fun to live in the moment. But the
thought now of going home and finding a boyfriend
felt wrong.
Tender fingers ghosted through his hair, flipping
strands as though trying out different styles.
“I never looked at it this way, but you are damn
cute,” Hunter mused.
The compliment from out of the blue startled
Sam, the heat rising swiftly onto his cheeks.
“See? Stuff like that blows my mind.”
Sam cleared his throat to talk. “What?”
“Like you don’t know how good looking you
are.”
“Who are you comparing me to?” Sam asked,
more than a little flustered. “Because I’m not all
that.”
Hunter chuckled, cuddling up closer until they
were nose to nose. “There’s no one to compare you

to. I know I like what I see. What more is there?”
Sam was tongue-tied by the simplicity. He
couldn’t find one argument.
“Let me put it this way,” Hunter explained
solemnly. “I’ve been ashamed for years, because I
couldn’t get it up to fuck. Yet, all I have to do is
look at you, touch you and I can’t think of any one
thing I want to do more.” Proving his point, he
gently clasped Sam’s free hand and guided it to
Hunter’s crotch. Not to encourage Sam, only to
show he was telling the truth. Sam slowly licked
over dry lips. Oh, damn. He felt good. “I don’t even
know how when it comes to loving a man.” Hunter
let out a slow breath. “And it means everything that
you’re being patient as a saint and letting me figure
it out.”
Sam gazed into his open eyes, reading the truth in
them. And it gave him hope, a wild surge of hope
that he was misreading everything in front of him
for doubt, for confusion. Was Hunter leading up to
something? Was he feeling this crazy intensity
between them? Would Hunter be able to take it to
the next level? Was he wanting to give this — them

— a chance? The warnings of the night before
seemed distant. Could this be possible? Sam
pinched his lips together to not blurt it all out at
once. He desperately wanted to be the guy who
helped him figure it all out. Sam knew he wouldn’t
let him go if he got the chance. He’d never hurt him,
either.
Hunter knitted their fingers together, putting
space between Sam’s palm and the hard, pulsating
ridge beneath Hunter’s shorts.
A soft kiss to his lips was almost his undoing.
Sam melted beneath the warm press. He hadn’t
come to the island resort expecting to fall in love,
much less in a matter of days, only to have to leave
his perfect man behind.
In fact, riding the see-saw between regret and
hesitant hopefulness as he lingered beneath those
gentle kisses, he nearly missed Hunter’s quiet words.
Words that shattered his heart in one chop of a
blade. Words that proved no matter how much Sam
wanted, craved, cared or dreamed, this was definitely
a one-way ride and Hunter wasn’t going to be
interested in finding out what it did take to love

another man.
“I’m going to miss you so much when you leave.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A few weeks later

Sam stared off into space, the dusting rag held
forgotten in his hand. Reality had returned with a
vengeance, now home and at work again. It was like
the time he’d spent with Hunter in paradise had
been a dream. A dream he wished hadn’t ended, but
life didn’t work that way. They’d gone their separate
ways as they both knew they would. He hadn’t
counted on the depth of changes that trip would
cause. He was still trying to find his equilibrium. He
wasn’t having a lot of success. There was a
hollowness inside of him now, a place where Hunter
had infiltrated. An empty place now.
Lost in thought, he didn’t hear his dad come up
behind him with the ladder.
“Here, son. Help me. Hold the ladder.”
“Sure, Dad.” Sam inched behind the glass display
case counter, steadying the ladder for Jacob as he
scurried up it with the box in hand to go behind the
small privacy curtain hiding the cubby space. The
age of the building had put every available space to

some use, either for storage, cleaning new items,
display, or administration, though the office was
definitely the tiniest part of the whole building.
Their shop wasn’t too far from The Village and
locals looking for eccentric or unique items knew to
stop there first. The tourists knew to come because
it was historical. In the end, it all meant foot traffic
for his dads. And Beau had the eye to get the goods,
to bring them in again and again.
Late summer sunlight shot like lasers through the
front windows, hitting and refracting off the crystal
centerpieces and decanter set on the display table by
the counter. The colors reminded Sam of the
sunsets he’d watched while wrapped in Hunter’s
arms sitting on the sand. The lemon yellow and
burning orange, which would slowly fade to streams
of gold and Indian red. Indigo blues and diamonds.
Sunsets that would be burned into his memories as
some of the best moments of his life.
“Sam. Sam?”
“Huh?” He blinked, returning to the front room
of the store. “Sorry.” He stepped away from the
ladder, giving his dad room to climb down.

Jacob Rooney looked at him in that questioning
way he had. Sam was sure it was a self-activating
stare for all parents once they had kids. Dad always
knew when any of his sons were having problems,
though the way Sam was moping about, he’d be
shocked if anyone didn’t know.
“Anything you want to talk about?” Jacob wiped
his hands off on a clean towel from under the
counter and then popped the braces on the ladder
to let it slide into place with a grate of metal, its
compressed length taking up half the space. His dad
waited expectantly, propping the ladder in his
hands.
“No. Not this time.” No point in it. Sam gave his
dad a weak smile, knowing it had to look as fake as
it felt.
“You know you can,” he offered. “I’ll listen.”
“I know, Dad.” He reached for the ladder to have
something to do, and to get away from a probing
parent. “Let me go put this back in the storage
room.”
“Sure.”

The front door opened with a tinkle of the bell.
“Hey, boys!” his dad called to Gene and Mickey.
“Hey, Dad. We’re going to the Union tonight to
get in on the debate,” Gene said. Sam left them to
discuss college stuff, dragging the ladder with him.
With those two home, Jonathon wasn’t too far
behind. Jonathon was closer to their age, and with
all three being straight, they tended to go places
together frequently. Sam didn’t mind, especially not
now.
He hadn’t gone out once anywhere since he’d
come home from his vacation nearly two months
ago.
He’d buried himself in helping his dads run the
store. It was safer and usually kept his mind from
wandering too often or for too long. Lapses like the
one a few moments ago were finally starting to
become less frequent. Not that they didn’t hurt any
less. They just hurt less often.
Sam hung the ladder on its hook, pushing the
pangs out of reach. He wished he were able to push
them away completely, to forget.

Sam had traded information with Hunter, and

they’d emailed a few times. The context of each had
been superficial. Menial updates. He was home again
in Pennsylvania and Sam was in Florida.
And Hunter didn’t want to change any of it.
None of what had happened between them had
actually meant half as much to Hunter as it had for
Sam. Hunter had returned home and any hope Sam
had hoarded of Hunter coming fully out of the
closet were dashed as soon as he’d opened the first
email. Hunter was talking things out with Stefani.
Sam simply had to learn to live with it.
Crazy how deeply he’d fallen for the guy when
they’d never even screwed.
He sagged forward, his head finding the rough
brick wall next to the ladder. His eyes closed and he
breathed, pissed and morose when he realized the
weight was still in his chest and it felt an awful lot
like a sob trying to break out.
They’d gone parasailing. They’d taken the pirate
lair’s tour. They’d spent an evening in the hot tub,
laughing their asses off with Peter and Adam and
had a great evening sharing dinner and drinks with

Julie and Travis. Like they were a couple, hanging
out with friends made there. Like they’d been there
together all along. It was, in truth, the best damned
ten days of Sam’s life, seven of which he’d spent
with Hunter.
Sam cursed himself for falling for the big Viking
hunk even after he’d made it perfectly clear there
would be no them afterward.
He should’ve run, but he hadn’t been strong
enough and now he was paying for it.
“Sammy?”
Sam jerked straight, wiping a hand down his face,
making sure he wasn’t actually crying. So not cool to
be busted by your younger brother bawling like a
baby. “Yeah?” He swallowed and drew a slow
breath. Assured he was mostly okay, he spun away
from the ladder and walked out of the storage room
to stand before Jonathon. He tugged the door
closed behind him.
“Everything okay?”
Why was everyone asking? It was obvious he wasn’t!
But he sure as shit was not talking about it. He was

the listener, not the talker in their family.
Jonathon gave him a knuckle rub on the head.
Sam was older, but good God, was Jonathon taller.
He shooed away the offensive hand like a persistent
gnat buzzing around his head.
“Why?”
“Because you’re holding up a brick wall with your
face.”
Sam rubbed his forehead, swearing silently at the
pressure lines. “I’m fine.”
Jonathon grunted. He wasn’t pushing too hard.
Sam didn’t roll his eyes. One of the others had put
him up to it. Figures. Everyone knew Jonathon was
Sam’s greatest weakness. The booger had been cute
from day one. Still was, even at six-three. Sam loved
all three of his brothers, but Gene and Mickey were
an automatic force, which left Sam and Jonathon as
a united front against the Hellion Twins.
“Want to go to the Union with Gene and Mick?
They’re holding a political debate. Should be
interesting.”
“No, you guys go have fun.”

Jonathon leaned on a shoulder in the narrow
hallway and crossed his arms. “What’s going on
with you, Sam? I’m asking for me now.”
And that was his cue to cut and run. Jonathon
being nosey-kind was impossible to fight.
“It’s nothing. Go have fun with the twins.” He
waved again, hoping Jonathon took the hint and got
out of his path.
“Nope. I’ve already told them to go without me.”
“Shit,” Sam breathed. The acerbic retort earned
him an arched eyebrow. “Look, just go. Anywhere.
Have some fun. Find a nice girl for the weekend. Go
watch a movie.”
“Uh huh. You need to follow your own advice,
though grab a guy. A girl would drive you nuts in
ten seconds flat,” Jonathon said, as though he were
trying to be ultra helpful, rather than sarcastically
regurgitating Sam’s own advice.
Sam snorted. “Brat.”
“Wanker. Come on. You can drink. I’ll drive.”
Jonathon gave him a nudge with a toe to his shin.
“I’m not letting you out until you say yes.”

Sam glared at him. It was as effective as pushing
on the polar ice caps. “Fine.” Though it was a
definite growly type of answer. The kind that
bounced off his youngest brother. Jonathon stood
straight.
And of course, when they walked out of the
hallway to the showroom floor, it was mysteriously
empty of family. No one to cling to save himself. He
plucked his keys and phone off the counter shelf
under the antique register and handed the keys to
his brother. “I’m holding you to it. You want to do
this, you better make sure I get home.”
“Have I ever not gotten you home?” Jonathon
shot back with a hint of disgruntled teenager.
“No, but still doesn’t mean I have to like this.”
“That isn’t required.”
“Gawd. Taught you too well.”
“Yep,” was all he said, sauntering at Sam’s
shoulder to the side street where they all parked, to
leave the slots in front of the squat brick building
open for customers.
“Where are we going?”

“The Limbo Shack.”
Sam slid into the car and fastened his seat belt.
“Fine.”
“You know, just because you have a degree
doesn’t mean you’re immune to needing to talk
things over.”
Sam planted his chin in a palm, pinned his elbow
against the door, and stared at nothing as they
drove. He needed to be drunk before he could even
begin to try to explain this one. If Sam couldn’t
understand it, how could anyone else?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

They sat at a table in the local bar and were

immediately greeted by a waitress. Jonathon ordered
cheese fries and a soda.
“I’ll have a whiskey sour.”
That got Sam another cross-eyed look from his
brother. She smiled and left the brothers.
“Whiskey sour? Since when?”
Sam played with the bar coaster the waitress had
left behind. “Since my trip.”
“Uh huh.” He leaned on his elbows. “You had a
good time, right?”
“A great time,” he replied, avoiding Jonathon’s
searching.
“Okay, you’re being as helpful as sandpaper
tissue.”
Sam looked at his brother out of the corner of his
eye. “Making it easy wasn’t part of the bargain.”
“My bad. I’ll be sure to add it to the terms next
time.”

Sam snorted. Their food and drinks arrived. The

first sip rekindled memories of Hunter like a
lightning bolt to his heart. He swallowed around the
hard lump in his throat, though it only shifted
downward into his chest. He blinked rapidly
without looking up until he had it under control.
The drink was a bad idea. He set it on the paper
square. One hand went under the table and
clenched into a fist when he saw how badly it was
shaking.
“So what happened? And don’t tell me about the
swimming and the food. You already gave the
sterilized version to everyone.”
“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Sam bitched
without looking at his brother. He couldn’t say it,
didn’t have the balls. Sad state of affairs, man.
Jonathon paused in homing a wedge of cheese-
drenched fries for his mouth. “Are you serious?” He
ate the fries, then licked his fingers, ignoring the
napkins on the table.
“Yeah, very serious.” Sam took another heavy
drink of the cocktail, the burn and the cold fresh,
the taste not as shocking the second time around.

“His fiancé walked out on him before the wedding.”
“Wait. He’s a straight stud?” Jonathon gaped.
Sam shrugged. What could he say? Yes and no?
Just because Sam wanted him, needed him, missed
him like crazy, it wasn’t going to make Hunter gay.
“I don’t know.” He took another gulp, and one
more drained the glass. Jonathon waved and the
waitress waved back — one order received. Good.
Sam could use about a dozen, to start.
“And you fell for him?” Jonathon asked a little
kinder.
“Like the proverbial load of bricks.” He waited
until he had his next refill before saying more,
unable to make the words leave his mouth.
Jonathon — bless his sibling’s black heart — didn’t
push, rather he slowly munched through the fries.
Sam recognized the type of patience. All the boys
had it. They’d learned it from their dads. Which
meant there was a good chance Sam would be
spilling his guts before the end of the evening.
The bar was busy for a Wednesday night, the
small kitchen popping open every few minutes with
more food orders. They did a booming business on

the weekends. A hang-out dive for cheap, greasy
food and drinks. There were two of those trivia
machines on the bar with large screens overhead.
People got into some serious debates and betting on
those things. Along with large palm fronds along
the upper walls and rafters, it held an island motif in
the middle of Florida. The college crowd loved it.
His brother finished off the fries, Sam daring to
sneak a few without being bitten, and was feeling
pretty good by his third drink.
“Okay. So tell me about him,” Jonathon prodded.
“What’s to tell?” Oh crap, now Sam was in
trouble. He glared at Jonathon, but was thinking well
played. If Sam was offering the shoulder, like he had
the night he’d met Hunter — Hunter. He swallowed
the sigh with force. If he was listening, helping, he
could drink and talk without blinking an eye. Flip
the coin in his current mood… Yeah, he was
fucked. Damn his family for knowing it, too.
“Sammy.” Jonathon shook his head at him.
“Don’t play stupid. You’re my brother, and I love
you to pieces, but you have me, all of us, really
worried. You don’t go all silent. You don’t stay at

home, not going anywhere. I’m not saying you’re a
player, but shit, Sam. You’re not even ten years
older than me. Quit acting like you’re Dad and
Popo’s age.”
Sam hunched over the table, his hands holding
the narrow cocktail glass in a close grip. At least
they’d stopped shaking. “He was wonderful,
Jonathon. Remember what The Rock looked like in
his early days of WWE?” Jonathon nodded. “Okay,
tone that down about ten percent, add blond hair to
the shoulders and eyes the color of bright indigo.”
“Holy shit,” Jonathon breathed.
Sam smiled, their first night returning to him. “I
called him a Viking. It really did fit.” From there, it
started gushing out. How sweet he was, thoughtful,
kind. How, even though he’d been raised in a
prejudiced and biased home, he still found things to
respect about his dad, and the opposite sex. “He was
just very confused,” he finished. “He emailed the
week he got home. He was already talking to Stefani
again, trying to work things out.” His heart still hurt
over it, because those where the exact words he’d
used.

“I don’t believe that.” Jonathon was frowning, a
groove digging deep into the flesh over his
eyebrows. He glared at the table, in sympathy for
Sam. He finally shook his head. “If she really did
that, there is no way a self-respecting man would go
back, sniffing around, all but begging for her to do
it again.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Sam whispered. He
knew he couldn’t believe it. But belief wasn’t
essential to real life.
“Sammy, if he really is going back to her, then
he’s not the guy you deserve.” Jonathon clasped
Sam’s forearm and gave him a firm shake. “You’re
too fucking awesome. If he’s that much of an idiot
— or confused,” he graciously, if a bit snidely
added, “to go back to the bitch who left him at the
altar for another guy, then he’s not the kind of guy
who’s going to love you.” Jonathon let him go and
chugged at his drink, the ice floating in the dark
fizzies.
Sam ducked, not looking up. He knew that. He
also knew he was in love with that jerk. He downed
the rest of his whiskey sour and didn’t argue when

Jonathon bought him another. At least his brother
knew what he needed.

§

§

§

The grapevine in Sam’s family was apparently up
to code and working at full steam. No bad weather
static hiccups there. The proof came careening into
the store Thursday afternoon in the guise of his best
friend, Paul, pistols a’blazing and in full protective
“gonna-beat-the-shit-outta-him” mode.
“Where is he?”
Sam glanced up from the magazine he was
reading at the store counter, silently amused by his
friend’s antics. “Dad’s not here. He went to meet
Popo at an art auction preview. Sale is this weekend
and they want the good stuff.”
“Not them,” Paul growled. He stalked up to the
counter and planted flat palms on it to get right into
Sam’s face. “Where is the jerk who hurt you?”
Sam leaped away from the counter with a blunt
grimace. “Man, garlic.” Wow, but… He cleared the
air with a waved hand.
Paul breathed on him hard and then laughed

maniacally as only a best friend could. Apparently
remembering he was supposed to be mad about
something, he switched faces, pissed-off Paul
returning. “Where is the dildo that hurt you?”
“No one’s hurt me, Paul,” he replied in a
suffering way, rolling his eyes.
“That’s not what the boys say.”
“Shit.” Sam cursed under his breath. He wanted
to kick Jonathon’s ass, only he’d vanished to the
beach for a weekender with some of his pals. It
would have to wait until Sunday.
The store door jingled and a foursome of women
poured in. “Later, Paul. I’m holding the store
down.”
“My, but you’re strong.” He gave a bright-eyed,
wide look. “The whole store?”
“Jerk,” he got out before he gave the women a
full-blown, innocent smile. “Welcome, ladies. If you
have any questions, let me know.”
“Thank you,” two chirped in unison, offering a
smile in return. They began oohing and aahing over
several of the paintings and a few of the statues.

“Who is he?” Paul demanded again.
“He doesn’t live here,” he rebuked drily. “So
knowing who he is, isn’t going to matter.” Sam gave
Paul a level stare. “Besides, whatever happened to
firehouse boy?”
“Oh, he’s not happening.” An airy deflection if
Sam ever heard one.
“Uh huh, so compare notes and drop it.”
Paul’s face fell. Sam knew the firefighter was an
unrequited love. “That’s not fair.”
“Sorry, sugar,” Sam offered, patting Paul’s arm to
show he meant it. He hadn’t meant to be mean; he
only wanted to get Paul to stop needling him over
Hunter.
“At least go out with me tonight.” Paul gave Sam
the puppy dog eyes.
“I’m not in the mood.”
Paul stuck out his bottom lip. “That’s what
Jonathon said. You’re not doing anything but
sulking.”
Sam scowled. He was definitely going to have to
hurt the twerp. “Did he spill everything?”

Paul gave him a sardonic smile. “I don’t know.
You tell me and I’ll let you know.”
Sam groaned, gratefully being called away the
next moment by one of his shoppers. Looking back
once, he spotted Paul sitting on the counter stool,
playing with Sam’s phone, probably playing one of
the games. Sam didn’t care. He was being quiet and
wasn’t hounding Sam.

§

§

§

Sam sank down onto his sofa and kicked off his
shoes, stretching out to stare uncaring at whatever
show was on. One of those singing shows. Man, he
detested reality TV. His reality was sucky enough.
Watching other peoples’ go down in flames didn’t
make him feel any better in the least.
He rolled to his back and tugged his phone out of
his pocket. Flying over screens with his thumb
knowing the way, too easily, he pulled up his email.
Why am I doing this to myself? The answer was
simple and so depressing. Sam was utterly lovesick.
He’d managed to evade Paul’s requests-slash-
demands to meet him tonight. He wasn’t ready. Not

to dance, not to put on a happy face and pretend he
wanted to be there. And definitely not to find
someone. So what if he was sulking? Or moping?
He wasn’t asking anyone to share in his pity party.
Starting at the top, he read through the few
emails he’d shared with Hunter. At first he’d tried
to read something into them, maybe something
Hunter didn’t have the words to tell him. Receiving
the first email had sent him into the clouds, only to
land to Earth with a hard thudding crash when he’d
actually read it.
So much to talk about… Stefani and I are working
through things. I’m doing like you said. It’s making a world
of difference. I owe you so much.
They didn’t get any better after that one, either.
Not: “I want to see you, miss you.” Not: “I love
you.” Now Sam was glad he’d never actually been
stupid enough to give Hunter any idea of his true
feelings. T hat would have shattered him, to offer
himself on a silver platter and then have said platter
handed right back in rejection. Other emails came
over the following weeks. News on jobs he’d been
commissioned for, a few conversations he’d tried to

have

with

his

dad

about

the

whole

matrimony/Stefani thing. One thing Sam noticed
was Hunter wasn’t a complainer. Even when he’d
been crushed, he’d rebounded quickly and well.
Sam wished he had the same ability.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Hunter couldn’t believe it. Sam was in Hanover!

God, he’d missed Sam so much. Hunter was
bouncing in his seat. He couldn’t wait for the day to
be over. The email had been such a surprise. He’d
almost deleted it when he didn’t recognize the
sender, but he’d opened it and was so glad he had.
Sam had emailed from his brother’s computer, so
excited he’d conned someone into working at the
store he’d used their email by accident.
Sam was taking time to drive up to see him from
the coast. He honestly hadn’t thought Sam would
do it. The last few times they’d talked back and
forth, Sam had been kind of cool, aloof. Hunter
couldn’t figure out what had happened to change
the tempo of their relationship — or at least their
friendship — but Sam coming up to Pennsylvania
had to mean something, right? He wouldn’t drive all
that way just to share a drink and a few memories,
would he?
He couldn’t concentrate to save his life. Thank
God it was Friday. When Sam had said he was

coming up, Hunter had offered to let him stay at his
apartment until he got home, but Sam had told him
it wasn’t necessary. He wouldn’t be in that early, but
he’d love it if they could meet for a quick dinner
before going from there. It was probably better for
them. Hunter wasn’t going to screw this up. If Sam
wanted to take his time and warm everything back
up, Hunter was all for it. He wanted Sam any way he
could and honestly, being polite wasn’t all that hard.
He wasn’t an animal — even if Sam made him feel
like one.
Hunter’s heart was still pounding against his ribs
like a runaway diesel, even twenty-four hours after
Sam had told him he was coming to Hanover. It had
been more than two months since he’d last seen
Sam. Hunter had so much to tell him.
Since coming home, Hunter had been going
through phases of deep denial and then
enlightenment. One of the best things he ever did
was tell Stefani the truth. Of course, things
improved there on a grandiose scale — after she’d
slapped the daylights out of him. Then she’d sagged
into his shoulder and cried. What shocked him was

when she’d straightened and then swept a tear from
his own eyelashes. She’d forgiven him on the spot
for being an idiot all these years. She’d also
apologized for ever hurting him. Her world had
been changing too, it seemed. Opening up with Tim
in her life in ways she’d never dreamed and Hunter
never could have given her, and Hunter was happy
for her. Both of them had so much to absorb. And
there was so much he himself needed to deal with.
Honestly, over the last two months he thought he’d
been doing a damned good job.
“The truth will set you free,” he murmured to
himself.
“Say what?” Gloria asked distractedly from the
neighboring desk.
The distracted question yanked Hunter out of his
dazed thoughts. “Nothing,” he replied. No one at
work knew anything about Sam and Hunter or his
feelings about the other man. They did know about
Stefani. There had been a lot of sympathy on their
part for him. One of the women had taken him
aside and had offered her expertise in helping him
forget.

He’d graciously refused. She didn’t have what he
wanted when it came to comfort. A smile warmed
his lips and he ducked his head. The man who did
was on his way to see him. The clock couldn’t move
nearly fast enough to suit him.
At five-thirty, he drove into Emile’s parking lot, a
local family restaurant. He ran a hand nervously
through his hair. It was a little longer, but he didn’t
think he’d changed much. One last check of his
teeth in the mirror and he got out.
He swung open the front door and walked
through it into the restaurant, his nerves tingling
with the energy of pins and needles. It wasn’t quite
packed with the dinner crowd. A sweep of the
booths proved Sam wasn’t there yet. Hunter let out
a breath, determined to not let getting there first
sway him. Sam should be there any minute.
He slid onto an empty bench seat, his hands
clasped before him, anxiety and nervousness making
him want to twitch. He wanted to see Sam too badly
to question why he wanted to meet him here like
this. Maybe he wasn’t comfortable waiting for him
to come home without Hunter being there. He did

have a small apartment. The reasoning meant little
to him.
He didn’t pay any attention when a lanky guy
stood from a booth against the wall and walked
toward him, toward the doors, or the register.
Hunter’s booth was merely along the way.
Then he stopped at Hunter’s table. “Hunter?”
He whipped around from staring out the pane
glass to the parking lot. “Yeah?”
The guy slid into the booth. Then Hunter noticed
two more stand from where Lanky had been sitting
and converge on him, one sitting with Lanky, the
other more or less pushing Hunter into the
restaurant wall.
“What the hell?” he growled, pushing back
against a very solid shoulder.
“Shut up,” Lanky snapped. He had a mean glare.
Cold brown eyes.
Hunter had no idea who any of these assholes
were.
“You’re going to listen to us and then we’re going
to leave.”

“What?” Damn it! They had to get out. Now!
Sam was going to be there any minute.
“You’re fucking with our brother,” the one
sitting next to him snarled under his breath to keep
it private. “Either quit messing with his head and
tell him it was a mistake or get your ass down to
Florida and apologize.”
“What?” Hunter gaped, then blinked. “Shit,
you’re twins.” One had a red stripe in his dark hair
and the other had green eyes. They weren’t identical
but the resemblance was undeniable. He swung to
really look at Lanky. Then… “You guys are Sam’s
brothers?”
“He is smarter than he looks,” one of the twins
opined with a rude weight in his voice. Disgust was
clear in his expression. Like he was dealing with
something he had to scrape off his shoe.
“Would you boys like something to drink?”
Menus plopped down on the table.
“Could you give us a minute, please?” Lanky
asked, batting long lashes at the waitress.
“Sure.” She gave him a full-wattage smile and

twirled away.
“What are you guys doing here? Where is Sam?”
“Sam is still at home,” the twin across from him
replied.
That took a couple seconds to process, followed
by a wave of disappointment so acute, it hurt. “So
he didn’t email me yesterday,” Hunter tried, but by
the look of the other three, it wasn’t a necessary
question. The fact was clear. Sam was nowhere near
Pennsylvania.
“Sorry, no,” Lanky offered. He leaned forward on
his elbows. “Look, whatever head game you’re
playing with him, needs to stop. If you’re straight,
then bow out and let him find a guy who will love
him right. If you’re gay, then I’m going to take your
ass out back and beat the shit out of you for doing
this to him.”
Hunter blinked and sat stiff, his spine flushed to
the booth cushion. “What? Why? What’s wrong
with Sam?” He noticed when all three seemed to
communicate through a look, a flash of impatience
and anger in the mix of eyes. It only took a few
seconds to find out what they were mad about now.

“‘Just a friend,’” Red Stripe scoffed at Hunter’s
shoulder. None of them seemed willing to answer
his questions, skipping right over them. “Man, you
got home and went tail between your legs right back
to your ex. How is she ‘just a friend’?”
“She is!” Hunter said, his heart in his throat. They
still weren’t saying what was wrong with Sam!
“Yeah, whatever.” Lanky pushed at Green Eyes
and they slid from the booth. “Make up your
fucking mind, Hunter. If I drive up here again, you
won’t need an ex. You’ll need a stretcher.” The three
brothers stood by the table, their warning given.
Hunter joined them. “Just…tell me he’s okay.”
“What do you care?” Green Eyes challenged.
“You’re not gay, right? Because if you are, you have
a shitty way of caring for someone.” He tapped his
look-alike on the shoulder. “Let’s blow.”
Hunter trailed them and watched from outside
the restaurant doors as they ambled for a car across
the parking lot. It had Florida plates. His stomach
shrank a little more.
He jogged to catch up as they were unlocking the

doors. “Look, is Sam okay?” All kinds of horrors
were fighting for domination over which could be
the reality. He was petrified because they weren’t
telling him anything! What was wrong with Sam?
When Red Stripe opened his mouth, Lanky held
up a hand. “If he means that much to you, prove it,
because right now all we see is a prick who used our
brother to get his rocks off after being dicked by his
girl. Oh,” he sneered, “and then had the gall to go
right back to her when he got home after his fling in
paradise.”
“But…I’m not with her!” Hunter finally managed
to say. Dust was eating at his throat and he had to
gulp to make his voice work.
“I have four emails saying otherwise,” Red Stripe
said, a clear warning woven into it.
Lanky leveled a glare at Hunter. “You’ve hurt him
enough, Hunter. If you care, do something about
it.”
“I hurt him?” Hunter did a double take. “What?
How?” He didn’t get one answer. He pounded on
the roof of the car, the trio within ignoring him.
“What is wrong with Sam?” Hunter shouted to no

avail.
They left him there in the parking lot, gasping for
air, and shaking with fear and worry like an old man.
He watched until their car was gone, a dot
somewhere headed south. “Fuck!” He yanked out
his phone and called his office. It was almost a sign
for him when he got the office voicemail. No one to
delay him, or to question his sanity. He could do
this, go home, throw a change of clothes into a bag
and be behind Sam’s asshole brothers by an hour. If
that.
“Hey, Darla. This is Hunter. Yeah, sorry for
doing this, but I just got a shit storm of bad news. I
have to drive to Florida. I don’t know if I’ll be back
by Monday, but I’ll call on Monday to let you know
what’s going on. My files for the Cantor project are
on the computer. Call me on my cell if you need
anything else.” He disconnected the call and stalked
to his car.
None of them had told Hunter one damned thing
about what was wrong with Sam, why they were so
worried about him. Even as he tried to rationalize
they were only pissed at him, it wasn’t enough to

calm the hectic tossing of his stomach that
something really was wrong.
And that it was his fault.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

In the end, Hunter didn’t make the side trip to

stop at his apartment. Rather, he hit the highway
and prayed, fighting to keep the panic at bay. He
wished like hell he’d asked for a phone number
from Sam or even his brothers, but an email seemed
less threatening. Now it had obviously left Sam the
wrong idea. He’d known in his head, at least, there
were things he had to deal with when he got home,
Stefani not being the least of which. He’d attempted
to broach the subject with his dad, but it hadn’t
proved to be an optimistic effort, and he’d shelved it
until later, when he better understood his own self a
little better. Honestly, he’d simply been thrilled to
give back the ring and never have to discuss how
he’d nearly lost it forever. Now he realized time had
been his enemy and he’d handled things with Sam
wrong, even as he tried to handle everything else
right.
About two hours after leaving Hanover, he had
to stop for a piss break. He ordered a coffee and
something to eat on the way. While he was waiting
for his order, he read through the emails they’d

shared and saw them all with a brand new
understanding.
Stefani and I are working through things.
She’s awesome.
Stefani has forgiven me.
Hunter slumped at the restaurant window, an arm
up to the glass with his head cushioned by it. He
nearly wept. No wonder Sam had cooled off. God,
I’m an idiot. It didn’t take a genius to read between
those lines.
Taking a chance he’d respond, even this late on a
Friday night, he sent an email, trying to keep his
heart out of his throat. I need to talk to you. W hat’s
your number? Short and simple. If he tried to explain
any of it on the phone’s puke-tiny screen, he’d screw
everything up and Sam would never believe him. If
he could talk to him, maybe Hunter could find out
what was wrong and maybe, just maybe, Sam would
accept his apology for giving him the wrong idea.
“Sir? Your order is ready.”
Hunter dragged himself away from the window.
“Thanks.” With the bag and drink in hand, he made

a beeline for the car and didn’t stop until the sun
started to come up again on the other side of the
sky.

§

§

§

Hunter rubbed his eyes and blinked. He’d pulled
over somewhere in Alabama to get a couple hours
of sleep. He hadn’t thought beyond getting to
Florida, and doubted Sam wanted him pounding on
his door at 0’God-it’s-early. Except now, he felt
gritty, disheveled and cranky.
The perfect state to launch an aggressive attack
on Sam to try to win his trust and heart again.
He sighed, paying attention to the black highway.
After so many hours of the same, he could see why
all three of the brothers came together. For one
person, this was one ugly drive. It also showed
Hunter a deep protective love they all shared for
Sam. He may be the oldest of the four, but their
unity to drive that far to get into Hunter’s face said
a lot. It was about eight in the morning when his
phone beeped at him. He checked the screen. One
new email.

And just like that, his hand was shaking and his

heart racing. Hunter found the next exit to get off
the highway and pulled into a convenience store
parking lot. Scared to breathe, he accessed his email.
What’s wrong? was followed by a phone number.
“Thank you,” he whispered. Maybe not all was
lost. He swallowed, tapping the link to auto-dial the
phone number.
“Hello?”
The sound of Sam’s voice after weeks and weeks
had Hunter melting from the inside out. Why did he
wait so long?
“Hey, I didn’t interrupt something, did I?” It was
pretty early for a Saturday. He forced moisture
around his mouth.
“No. So, what’s up? A new project?”
Hunter shook himself. “No. I…” He felt utterly
tongue-tied. “Are you doing anything today?”
The question seemed to surprise Sam, his voice
rasping through the phone. “Other than a little
laundry, no.”
Hunter looked at the dash clock, quickly

throwing together an idea. “Meet me for lunch.” He
turned off the car, gazing at the store before him,
feeling a little dull and drained. He was there. Might
as well do what he needed and grab a few things. A
toothbrush came to mind. And the bathroom. That
was a necessity coming to the forefront now. A
good stretch and he’d be able to knock out the rest
of the drive, no problem.
Sam snorted. “Yeah, sure. Let me hijack a plane.”
“Sam, I’m about three hours from Pensacola.”
Eerie silence. Shocked silence. “What did you say?”
Hunter sagged in his seat, a hand wrapping
around the steering wheel. Pretty much everything
on the inside was tied in knots. He had no idea what
he’d do if Sam told him no. “Meet me for lunch.”
“No. I got that part.” Sam sounded rattled.
“You’re really almost here?”
The hopefulness in his voice shot a shiver into
Hunter. He tried to picture the last signs he’d seen.
The store in front of him didn’t give any helpful
clues. “I think I’m south of Montgomery. I don’t
remember.”

Almost as soon as the hopefulness appeared, it
vanished, replaced by the cool Sam he’d been
receiving via email for weeks now. “Sure. I can meet
you for lunch. Is Stefani with you?”
That he could answer with conviction. “No, and
she never will be.”
Another stretch of silence on the phone. “Oh.
Okay.” Sam’s voice firmed. “Call me when you’re at
the I-10 bridge on the bay. I’ll tell you how to get to
my spot in the sand.”
“I will. And Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“I miss you.” He hung up, leaving it open-ended,
and hopefully shocking him a little. He had a lot of
mistakes to make ground up on. No time like the
present to start.

§

§

§

Sam stared slack-jawed at his now silent phone. I
miss you. He was speechless. Completely. And Hunter
was nearly to Florida!
“Holy crap,” Sam breathed.

Sam jumped off the bed and dashed into the
shower. Once he was clean, he did throw clothes
into the washer. It had to be done, no matter what
else. Then he did a quick pick up around his
apartment. What was Hunter doing coming to
Florida? And where was Stefani? Sam knew better
than to let himself think for a minute he was the
cause, not after two months and barely enough
contact to still say they were even friends.
When all their emails had been about Stefani and
Hunter’s job, how much Hunter had to do to get
caught back up, and how well he and Stefani were
getting along since his return, Sam knew better than
to think there was anything at all to be hopeful
about. There wasn’t any mention of his supposed
revelations while in Aruba, while they’d shared a
bed the last few nights. Nothing to give Sam hope.
Nothing to ease the ache he’d carried since he’d
kissed Hunter good-bye before boarding the shuttle
from the resort to get to his first plane. And as the
weeks had turned into months, he’d been proven
right. He’d fallen in love and Hunter, at best, had
fallen in lust and experimented.

So what was he doing coming to the sweltering
side of Florida?
Maybe he had a project sending him there. Sam
didn’t know a whole lot about Hunter’s job or
exactly what he did and guessed it was possible. Sam
wasn’t making mega-bucks working for his dads, but
it covered the bills, and let him live outside of the
family house. Jonathon was the only one still
permanently at home. Mickey and Gene had teamed
up for an apartment and were doing well. Not bad
for an adopted bunch of hooligans.
Sam lost track of time getting the clothes done
and put away while straightening things as he went.
He froze in place in the living room when his cell
phone rang. Shaking his hand out to kill the
tremors, he picked it up off the counter and spotted
the same number as that morning. Hunter.
His knees suddenly felt weak. This was really
happening. Sam unlocked the phone and raised it to
his ear. “Hello?”
“Holy shit! This is a long bridge!”
That had Sam cracking up with the

unexpectedness of it and his innate wonder.
“I’m waaaay out over the water. I don’t think I’ve
ever seen this much water driving above it.”
Sam couldn’t hold in his laughter.
“I swear, the boats look like toys!”
Sam sank down onto the couch, holding a side.
He’d missed this side of Hunter. Too much. All
exuberance and childlike excitement.
“So where did you want to meet?”
Sam rested his forehead in a palm, shaking his
head, grinning like an idiot and fully aware of it. He
ran a knuckle under an eye and blinked, trying to
calm his breathing. He hadn’t laughed like that in
weeks.
“Sam?” Hunter prodded.
“I’m thinking. Did you drive straight through?”
“Mostly. I stopped for a couple hours and
snoozed.”
“Oh, geez. Do you have GPS?”
“Yep.”
Sam wasn’t a sadist to make him keep going. “Put

this in.” He gave his apartment address. He was
willing to bet Hunter was exhausted. No sense in
driving further to meet. They could eat whenever or
call for delivery. Sam didn’t like the idea of Hunter
driving tired. He wasn’t going to be cruel.
“What’s the name of the restaurant? This says it’s
an apartment complex.”
Sam smiled, a lighter feeling making his head
float. “Because it is. When you reach the gate, enter
E-two-oh-three-seven on the access box. That’s my
building and my apartment is two-oh-three.”
“Okay, so E and twenty thirty-seven, right?”
“That’s right. If you forget, call me. I can buzz
you in.”
“I might do that anyway. Feeling fuzzy.”
Which proved Sam right. “Okay, just call. Get
here in one piece.”
“I will. I have the GPS set. Says thirty minutes.”
“Okay.” He swallowed, suddenly nervous with
Hunter on his way, knowing he’d be at his door in
such a short time. “Do you need me to keep you on
the phone to stay awake?” he asked, genuinely

worried for him. He sounded tired on the phone.
“No.” Hunter’s voice softened. “I want to see
you. I’ll be there.”
Oh, God. I want to see you, too. “Be careful.”
“I will. See you in a few.”
Sam said good-bye and let him go. And then
proceeded to count the seconds until Hunter called
from the gate downstairs.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Hunter drew a slow, steadying breath. With

halting precision, he punched the numbers on the
access box. A buzzer sounded and the metal gate
began to slide across in front of the bumper. He had
that pins and needles electricity burning beneath his
skin again. Now there was no doubt, no duplicity.
He was about to see Sam.
Avoiding the mirror because he knew what he
looked like after driving all night, he popped a mint
and chewed vigorously as he crawled through the
complex. People were walking their pets or driving
past him. Roadside curbs were well maintained, with
rich grass and shrubs on every corner. Some even
had flowering bushes, though all he knew was they
were pretty to look at. Overall, it looked like a safe,
clean area.
He’d missed Sam so much, but until yesterday,
when the thought of seeing him again had him on
cloud nine all day, he hadn’t put two and two
together. He hadn’t realized he was again running in
denial, believing if he didn’t see Sam, if he stayed on

the other side of the computer screen, then Hunter
might be able to hide these new wants and desires
under the bed, out of sight, out of mind. Hunter
had no idea how to do this. Those were definitely
some vicious nerves tossing with the rest of his
anticipation.
Hunter knew without a doubt he was attracted to
Sam. Knew what having Sam skin-to-skin did to
him. He’d learned that and well. Waking up
wrapped around the other man had been a slice of
heaven. The enlightenment he was gay had really hit
him from out of left field during his trip. Once he
was home without anyone there to make him deal
with it, he’d tried to avoid it, ignore and deny it.
Stefani hadn’t scorned him when he’d explained the
truth as he knew it. She didn’t push for details
either, which he was glad of. Even so, when no
women interested him in the least — when only
dreaming about Sam had him jerking off,
remembering in vivid detail and imagining even
more — Hunter accepted he couldn’t run from the
truth any longer. He was gay. Period.
Studying the brown-on-brown building faces, he

read the letters on each, searching for E. Feeling the
rapid-fire racing of his heart, he pulled into a spot
and put the vehicle in park when he found the right
building.
Standing on his feet outside the car, he stretched,
running a hand over his face to force away the
bleariness, at least for the immediate future. He was
still worried over what Sam’s brothers hadn’t
shared, what they’d hinted at. That something was
wrong. If Hunter had hurt Sam… He’d beg for
forgiveness.
Shutting the car door, he stiffened his spine and
took the first step and didn’t stop. He climbed the
stairs to the second floor and found two-oh-three.
He swallowed once to calm his nerves, then
knocked.
There was the sound of a deadbolt turning only a
few seconds later. And suddenly Sam stood before
him. Brown eyes, shaggy brown hair and a smile
more blinding than the sunshine. “Hi,” Hunter said
with a cautious smile of his own.
Sam lifted a hand and covered his mouth, his eyes
wide. And damp.

“Oh, baby. Please don’t cry.” He walked into the
apartment and scooped Sam into his arms. The door
swung closed and Sam clung to him.
“You’re really here.” It was muffled with Sam
buried as close as he could get into Hunter’s neck.
“I’m really here,” Hunter echoed. “I’m so sorry it
took so long to get a clue.”
Sam swallowed. “No.” He shook himself and
pulled away. The linger of his touch vanished. “You
don’t have to apologize.” He swayed then steadied
on his feet.
Apologizing was the first thing Hunter felt he
needed to do, but he took a long, hard look at Sam.
Something wasn’t right. “Sam, are you sick?”
“No.” He took another step away. “Why?”
“You’ve lost weight.” A lot of weight. His cheeks
were thinner than Hunter remembered, and even
though Hunter had been able to lift Sam with
relative ease to thrill his lover, the man he’d held in
his arms was noticeably lighter.
“It’s nothing.” Sam glanced at him then swept
away in pure evasion, avoiding long moments of eye

contact. “Come sit down. Rest for a bit. Tell me
about your job — I’m guessing that’s what sent you
down here. We’ll order in and you can take a nap.
I’m doing laundry, nothing important. I don’t have
to work —”
Hunter reached out and circled Sam’s arm in a
halting grip, cutting him off mid-explanation. “Sam.
Stop. You’re rambling.” He was glad Sam didn’t
fight him when Hunter drew him to the couch.
Only when Hunter sat, he brought Sam down with
him to his lap. Sam’s shocked gasp and quivering
body confused Hunter even more. What was going
on? “The job didn’t bring me here. You did.”
He’d decided on the drive not to bring up Sam’s
brothers’ intervention. Their interference might not
go over well with Sam and he didn’t want Sam to
think for a second that they’d forced Hunter’s hand
in the least. Smacked his reality a bit, maybe, but
there was no forcing.
Hunter threaded trembling fingers through Sam’s
hair, relearning and relishing the texture on his skin.
“I realized something I was doing was giving you
the wrong idea. I needed to correct it. Stefani and I

are only friends now. She’s very happy with Tim and
I gave her the go-ahead if she wanted to make things
permanent between them. If she’s happy, then I
want her to be happy. I never meant for you to
think she and I were getting back together.”
Sam searched him, a firm hand braced on
Hunter’s shoulder. “But in the emails…”
“I know.” Hunter sighed, stroking Sam’s check
with a thumb, running fingers over his nape. Damn,
but he’d missed this. “I didn’t realize until I read
them last night on my way here how you were
taking them.” He closed the distance between them
until their foreheads touched. “There is no one but
you.”
“But…” Sam’s trembles, which had been soothed
under Hunter’s caresses, returned in full force. “Are
you gay? You’re not. Are you?” He tilted his head to
stare hard at Hunter, and his eyes narrowed.
Confusion made them dark.
“It’s a large change to swallow, but… Yes. I know
it without a doubt now. It wasn’t the easiest thing to
tell Stefani. But it made my life make sense.” Hunter
closed his eyes, still too easily able to recall every

minute of everything that had happened since he’d
returned. “I haven’t found a way to tell Dad yet. I
tried and we ended up in another yelling match.
He’s still seeing only one thing: the meltdown of my
engagement.”
“Hunter,” Sam breathed. Sam’s touch was
tentative, mimicking the caresses Hunter was doing
for him. Weaving through his hair to comfort.
Shocks trickled like raindrops down Hunter’s back.
“I’m not sure he’ll understand no matter how I
explain it, to be honest,” Hunter admitted. It would
come up, regardless.
“Shh. Not something you have to stress over
right this second.” Light strokes were combined
with the soothing words. And a distance Hunter
was beginning to notice. Keeping them apart.
Sam seemed hesitant to snuggle closer, staying on
Hunter’s lap, though keeping a gap between them.
That, and his apparent disinterest in his health,
worried Hunter. Apparently, his brothers hadn’t
been lying. Hunter did have a shitty way of showing
he cared for the man in his arms.
He was going to fix everything immediately.

Black shadows were broadly hinted at under
Hunter’s eyes. Sam knew he had to be exhausted
driving overnight. “Why don’t you take a few
minutes to relax? Unless there’s something you need
to do, somewhere you need to go?”
“No, to both. I’m right where I need to be.”
The slow rumble of his answer sank into Sam,
which sent a flutter through Sam’s heart. He’d given
up hope on this happening. It was taking time for
reality to sink in. “You really came here for me?”
“I did,” Hunter replied. “I screwed up in taking
so long to see you, to do something about us.” Slow
fingers threaded through Sam’s hair, tugging and
combing. “I have to admit, it took almost three
weeks to find the guts to talk to Stefani about it. I
was and wasn’t sure. Had no idea how she would
react, either.”
Guilt was easy to decipher in the subtle twist of
his mouth, but Sam was hesitant to read too much
into anything else.
“Being gay made everything about me make
sense, but then I was admitting to being gay. Not the

easiest conversation, even if we are getting along
better.” Hunter sighed a little, his focus roving to
his hand in Sam’s hair. Sam barely blinked, watching
emotions and thoughts at war behind those deep
eyes.
“You’re taking it well,” Sam teased a moment
later. He hated seeing all the confusion weighing
Hunter down. And there was conviction in his
words. A very narrow surge of hope was impossible
to restrain.
Hunter’s lips quirked. “If I get to kiss you, I don’t
see it as a bad thing,” Hunter whispered back,
meeting his questioning stares through blond lashes.
That one look sent shivers of need cascading over
Sam. “You want to?”
“Let me put it this way.” Hunter slid the hand
cradling Sam’s head behind him and urged him
forward. The cupping palm on Hunter’s shoulder
held Sam steady as his center of gravity tilted
toward Hunter. When he hovered over Sam’s lips,
his breath was a bare whisper of sound. “I’ve
wanted one since the last one you gave me the day
you left Aruba. Dreamed of them. Dreamed of

you.”
Sam melted. There was no other alternative.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he managed, choking up
because his control was eroding.
“Then kiss me,” Hunter panted right before his
lips found Sam’s.
Blistering heat engulfed Sam when they met.
Warm skin, missed heat. The longed-for contact
turned Sam into a gooey mess. His arms moved of
their own volition, encircling wide shoulders.
Hunter took the next step and wrapped his arms
around Sam to mold them chest to chest. Sam
curled against the broad expanse, unable to fight the
rush of need and longing Hunter created.
He didn’t remember doing it, but a few moments
later, he found himself straddling Hunter’s thighs,
curving into his body like he wanted to keep Hunter
captured beneath him indefinitely.
The idea had its appeal.
Hunter’s hands were roaming lightly from his
shoulders down Sam’s back to his ass, squeezing
gently as he did, shooting shocks of hunger right

into Sam’s cock.
He ripped away from Hunter’s lips, gasping for
breath, arching his spine to soak up as much of that
wonderful torture as he could. Two months without
was a long time.
“You are one sexy fucker,” Hunter breathed.
Reluctant eyelids drifted up. He found Hunter
watching everything Sam was doing.
“It’s insane,” Hunter remarked quietly, a
confidential sharing. “It’s so easy to say these things
to you. I never knew how to talk to Stefani. I
learned it was easier to not say anything.”
Sam shook his head. “Never, never, hold back,
Hunter.” He inched as close as he could, as tight as
he could get, body to body. The moan built and
erupted before he could catch it when he positioned
himself right over the hard ridge in Hunter’s jeans.
His head wobbled on his neck, unable to fight the
blast of desire. Jolts at the base of his spine made his
sac twitch, tightening with need as his cock pulsed,
begging for more. “Fuck, that feels amazing.”
Hunter repeated his name in appreciation, right

before he was hit with a jaw-cracking yawn. He
rubbed his face, blinking. “Damn, I’m sorry, baby.
Sitting down and holding you. Feels good.”
Sam controlled his smirk to about half power.
“I’m putting you to sleep, huh?” he said with
humor, nudging their noses together.
Hunter snorted, chuckling even as he squeezed
Sam in return between strong arms. “Hardly. The
body is willing. The mind is mush.”
“You are so cute.” Sam slipped off his lap and
held out a hand. “Come on, Viking-man. On your
feet.” He urged Hunter to stand, holding him close
when both seemed to teeter an inch or three. “You
can lie down on my bed.”
“Lay down with me?” Hunter asked, his eyes half
hidden, like he was worried Sam would say no. “I
missed that.”
Sam’s heart fluttered. He lifted a hand and
caressed Hunter’s jaw. “I did too.” He took a step.
“C’mon,” Sam encouraged. “Nap time for you.”
Hunter grinned, an innocently playful smile. He
followed Sam around the short hall bend to his

bedroom.
A few minutes later, Hunter was stripped down
to his briefs and obeying a gentle shove to climb
under the covers. Sam did the same, picking up their
things and folding them to place on his dresser.
When he turned, Hunter was holding the bedding
aside for him.
“Missed you so much,” Sam breathed. His heart
was bursting with giddy happiness, but it was far
too soon to dare to say more.
“Missed you, too.” A light kiss to his temple as
they got settled was perfect before he fell asleep,
wrapped in tender arms.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Hunter was out cold. The phone didn’t wake him

and neither did Sam getting out of bed. Sam shook
his head in sympathy for the sleeping stud beneath
the sheets. He was kind of glad he didn’t wake up.
Two hours did not make up for a full night of lost
sleep. Slipping quietly from the room, he carried his
cell phone in his hand.
“Okay, Popo. Sorry about that. What’s up?”
“Hey, kiddo. We’re doing dinner tonight. Killed
at the art auction and we’re celebrating. We’re
meeting at Dominica’s at seven. Can you make it?”
Sam gazed over his shoulder toward his
bedroom, torn. “Can I call you back? I had… Well,
someone showed up unexpected.”
“Oh? Are you okay?” Concern and curiosity
wavered through the phone.
Sam heard the creak of Beau’s office chair at
home, giving away where he was calling from.
“I think so. I am right now.” Honestly, Sam
wished he knew for certain.

“Does this particular someone have anything to
do with your trip?” his dad asked.
Sam sank down to the couch and hunched over
his lap, a hand covering his eyes. “Try everything.”
“Huh. Well, he’s welcome too, if you want. Just a
second.” Sam listened as he heard his dads talking
quietly. “Well, let me know. I’ve already made a
reservation for a group, so one more won’t disrupt
anything. Anita and her daughter will be coming
when she closes the store for the afternoon.” Beau
was speaking to Sam again.
“I’ll call when he wakes up. He drove overnight.”
“Okay, Sam. I hope you can come.”
“I’ll do my best.”
When they said good-bye, Sam heard the smile in
his voice. Beau knew he was as good as there. He
sighed, clearing the screen. Honestly, any other
moment in time, Sam wouldn’t miss it. But putting
Hunter out there? As his date? As a friend? He
rubbed his eyes again. He didn’t know what to do,
how to introduce Hunter, what Hunter was ready
for.

Taking the phone with him, he stood and aimed
for the bedroom again, detouring to piss then finally
making his way to the bed. Hunter splayed on the
mattress was a smorgasbord of athletic muscled
beauty. Gliding under the covers to rejoin him, Sam
caressed a palm over the strength of Hunter’s back.
Smooth, sleep-warmed skin. Sam’s palm tingled and
his heart leaped with the contact.
He was beginning to believe Hunter was being
honest with saying he was gay. After a little more
than two months since those first kisses and
explorations, he wasn’t backing down from the
epiphany, wasn’t running screaming from the room.
He thought Hunter seemed happy, happier than
when he’d first found him, at least. But how would
this work? A long-distance relationship? The toll of
that distance was apparent in Hunter’s exhaustion.
He didn’t know if Hunter even wanted to take it
that far. The next question was: did Sam want to?
Staring at the blond hair scattered over his spare
pillow, the silhouette of Hunter’s sleeping profile
barely visible where he laid on his stomach facing
the other way, the only way to answer that was with

a bone-deep yes.
Sam stroked a thumb over Hunter’s shoulder
blade, lost in thought until Hunter rolled his
shoulder beneath the touch, a sigh of pleasure
encouraging for more. Sam splayed his fingers and
did a gentle knead.
“Mm.” Hunter stretched, lifting his head to let it
plop to the bed. “Five more minutes.”
Sam chuckled, rubbing upward to massage his
neck. “Sleep.”
“Mmph.” A rumble worked up from his chest a
few minutes later. “’S okay. Want to spend time
with you,” he mumbled into the pillow.
“You are. I’m not complaining about the view.”
Hunter’s body shook as he grunted a laugh. He
planted his palms and twisted to flop to his back.
He blinked his eyes open then gave them a good rub
before arching to gaze up at Sam where he was
propped over Hunter on an elbow to admire the
same view.
“Hi,” Sam whispered, his heart beating quicker
with the intimate heat burning in Hunter’s gaze.

The man’s eyes were breathtaking. “Feeling better?”
“Getting there.” He raised his arms over his head
and stretched, groaning and grumbling as he did. He
made Sam smile.
Then he snuck an arm around Sam’s waist and
tugged him down without warning. Sam folded with
a gasp.
“Now I’m much better,” Hunter said with a smug
drawl.
Sam cuddled closer. “Sorry for waking you.”
Hunter twitched a shoulder. “No big. I can sleep
next week.”
Sam grinned, arching against Hunter. “Goofball.”
Man, but he’d missed Hunter, missed this. Sam
settled into his side and began to trail a fingertip
over Hunter’s bare chest. “Sorry to drop this on you
when you just woke up, but my dads are doing
dinner tonight. Do you feel up to meeting everyone?
I told Beau I’d call to let them know.”
“Yeah, sure,” Hunter replied, unconcerned. “All I
have is what I wore here, though.”
“We can toss it in with my wash if you need to.”

“Probably wouldn’t hurt.”
“Okay. So, how long are you here for?”
Hunter slid the hand that had grasped Sam
upward between his shoulder blades, meandering
over his back. “I took time off at work. I’ll call on
Monday and see how things are, but I will probably
have to drive back by Tuesday.”
A few days were better than none.
Sam’s finger stopped its imaginary doodling.
Time off. An overnight drive. And no clothes. What
was going on here? “You came down here with only
what you wore?” Sam asked suspiciously. How hasty
of a decision had it been to drive halfway around
the world, or close to it?
Hunter adjusted his head, stretching his neck. It
took him a few minutes to answer. The fact he’d
shown up the way he had didn’t make a lot of sense
to Sam.
“It was sort of an impromptu decision.”
“Why? I mean, what made you drive here when
you could have called to talk to me?” He flattened
his palm on Hunter’s chest to make sure he

understood. Sam rested on a bent elbow again to see
Hunter’s face. “I’m not upset you’re here. I love it
that you are. But I’m confused.”
Hunter tipped on the pillow to look up at Sam. “I
couldn’t figure out why things were the way they
were. I was talking things out with Stefani and
almost from that moment, you started to pull away.
I thought you’d be happy to see the way things were
changing, how things were improving between her
and I, because it proved what happened in Aruba
wasn’t a fluke. Proved you were right. Talking
through things have helped us both a lot.”
Sam scrunched his brow, thinking, though he
knew those emails by heart.
“Except that’s not how you were reading them,”
Hunter explained. “It was pointed out to me, and
then I saw it. I knew this was more important than
sending another email to try to fix. A phone call
wouldn’t work.” He ran a thumb over Sam’s side,
massaging lightly. “You’re more important to me
than that.”
“So you never planned on getting back with her?”
Hunter laughed cynically. “Shit, no. She walked

out on me, first. Second, she’s a she. Before you ask,
yes, I had this discussion several times, trying to
figure this all out. I feel nothing around women
now.” His voice gentled, coupled with the caressing
strokes of fingertips to Sam’s spine. “I also found
someone who makes me feel a thousand times better
with everything about myself.”
“Oh?” Sam stiffened, unsure. Had Hunter met
someone in the last two months? He prepared
himself for the worst.
Hunter nodded, a glint in his eye Sam wasn’t sure
how to take. “I did. He kind of happened out of the
blue. Met him on this crazy, abandoned honeymoon
trip a couple months ago.”
Sam blinked then felt heat fill his cheeks when he
caught on to Hunter’s meaning. “Oh,” he breathed,
trying to hide the grin and failing.
Hunter’s fingers swept into Sam’s hair and
pushed it around. “If it weren’t for you, baby, I
would have left there just as miserable as when I
arrived, and none the wiser. I would have been
swimming in self-loathing and disillusionment
deeper than the ocean we swam in.” Sam felt a jolt

when Hunter raised and touched their lips together.
The slight touch made him ache and melt at the
same time.
“I went to Aruba broken, and left, if not healed,
close to it. Because of you,” he whispered. He
tugged until Sam covered his upper body, Hunter’s
hand firm on his body. “I’ve thought about this a
lot since you left, since I got home. You turned my
world around.”
Sam warred within with surges of hopefulness
and uncertainty he couldn’t control. Every guy he’d
ever dated had been gay, not newly out. He wanted
to trust it. He wasn’t sure he could. “So you want to
try to make this work?”
“Sam?”
“Yes?”
“Quit being obtuse.” He grumbled and Sam felt
the vibration through his ribs where they connected.
“I’m going to need your help, but yes.” Strong arms
wrapped around Sam and held him even tighter. “I
drove across the country for you. I had to see you.”
Warm lips wisped against his temple as Hunter
spoke. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he breathed against

Sam’s ear. “Never meant for you to think I was
getting back with Stefani.” The flicked tease of his
touch shot shivers down Sam’s body. He stretched
out a little closer, a little tighter against Hunter’s
body, soaking up the skin to skin contact he craved
and enjoyed.
A finger under his chin a few moments later tilted
Sam to meet Hunter’s intense searching. “Now, tell
me why you haven’t been eating so I can stop
worrying.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lying right beneath Sam, Hunter could feel the

differences, could see it clearly in Sam’s eyes. Now
he knew why his brothers had been worried. With
the other man right under his hands, Hunter could
feel ribs he hadn’t before. Could feel the point of his
hips if he lay just right, which was anyway he
wanted. He’d easily lost twenty or more pounds.
If they were joining his family for dinner, at least
Hunter could make sure Sam ate.
Sam lowered his lashes to hide. “So I lost a few
pounds. I had them to spare after all the food I ate
on vacation.”
Hunter wasn’t buying it, but he didn’t want to
start an argument either. Time was precious this
trip. He’d have to plan a little better next time. “Just
promise me you’ll take better care of yourself. I’m a
terrible doctor if you get sick.”
Sam grumped at his teasing but nodded in
agreement.
“Good.” Hunter urged him close again. He felt
himself swelling beneath his underwear gazing into

glowing brown eyes. Sam glided a leg between both
of his, bringing them together. Hunter’s heart sped
up as wanting and need reawakened. He’d felt it
with Sam in his arms earlier, but exhaustion had
won out.
He wasn’t dead on his feet now. Definitely not
mush, either. Fingers skated up and down Sam’s
sides in languid sweeps. “Love how this feels,” he
said tenderly.
“How does it feel?” Sam lay over Hunter’s chest,
a hand threading through his hair in equally light
passes.
“Like what I’d always hoped for, what I’d always
thought I should have with Stefani,” he admitted.
His heart thudded into his ribs as even more of his
body heated beneath Sam’s weight. He knew now
this was something he never would have found if it
weren’t for the man he held on to. Sam adjusted his
position and rolled directly over Hunter’s shaft.
Hunter sucked a breath as sensation ripped over
nerves, driving goose bumps up his arms. “That was
what I’ve always wanted.”
Sam’s grin turned playfully evil. “Oh?” He rolled

his hips just a smidge more. Shudders hit Hunter’s
chest. “That?”
“Yes,” Hunter whined. He was so full, he ached.
Sam reached beyond Hunter’s head and opened a
drawer in the bedside table. He couldn’t see what
he’d grasped, but he trusted Sam.
“Do you want to get naked?” Sam asked quietly,
leaving the largest choice to Hunter.
“If you promise to not stop, I’ll do anything.”
Hunter raised enough to find Sam’s lips, giving him
a hungry, swift kiss.
That made Sam smile. He inched away, tugging
his T-shirt off first, then removing denim shorts and
briefs. Once he was undressed, he urged Hunter to
do the same with his underwear. “There.” He
sought Hunter’s gaze. “Still okay?”
“Perfect,” he breathed. His hands found Sam’s
sides again, naturally. He settled chest to chest
above Hunter. Each inhale eased them against one
another; a heated glide of skin to skin meant to raise
Hunter’s body heat like a thermometer at the lip of
a volcano.

Sam sank down until there wasn’t an inch of
space between them. Sam’s warm lips coasted over
Hunter’s. His gaze clanged shut as his mind went
blank and his body jumped to a higher plateau of
sensation. The wonder of it all was new, the heat,
the thrill, it still took his breath away. When Sam
shifted his weight, their dicks aligned, sliding
together well enough they could throw sparks.
Hunter moaned, letting his hands roam freely,
telling Sam even more how it all felt, sharing his
need.
“Love you…touching me,” Sam told him
through a sighed moan. His eyes were glazing over
with desire, darkening even more as Hunter stroked
his body. Hunter loved his reaction.
Caresses went from exploratory sweeps to hungry
clasps of skin and muscle, with Hunter pinned
willingly beneath Sam’s length as they shared kisses.
The hot thrust of Sam’s tongue punctuated Hunter’s
growing desire.
Sam’s hand dug under the pillow again for a brief
moment then he urged Hunter to his side, a hand
diving between their wedged bodies.

“Oh, shit!” Hunter cried out, when Sam grasped
his shaft in a warm palm. He pressed closer, his face
against Sam’s shoulder and chest as he sucked air.
“Okay?”
Hunter nodded, his mouth too dry to speak.
Sam’s leg slid between his, winding them together.
Closer. Hip to hip. Ripples overtook Hunter when
the sensual torture intensified with Sam gliding his
hand over Hunter’s dick and his own, side by side,
jerking them both off. It was driving Hunter insane.
“You feel so good, baby,” Sam panted.
“What… Oh, fuck, Sam,” he whined with his
eyes squeezed shut as intense pleasure licked like a
wild flame against his skin. He wrapped his arms
around the other man, needing to hold on to
something before he shattered in ecstasy.
“Just like this.” Sam hissed and shivered. His
fisted hand moved faster, stroking them flesh to
flesh. “God, I’m going to come.”
Hunter rocked his hips into Sam’s hold, panting,
buried against Sam’s neck. Short grunts and whines
were unstoppable. Twists and pumps, pressure and

friction. He’d never felt so much at once. The urge
to move harder, deeper, was all-encompassing.
“That’s it, baby. Don’t stop. Fuck that hand. Give
me your juice.”
Hunter roared, muffling it as best as he could by
biting down on Sam’s shoulder. A shiver as strong
as an earthquake hit Sam at the same time. Wet heat
pooled against his stomach. Muscles jumped as his
nuts wrenched the last spurts through his dick.
Gasps slowed to a heartfelt groan of bliss.
He canted his head naturally as his world began
to right itself, kissing the bruise he’d left in his
passion to Sam’s shoulder, to then kiss the closest
inch of skin. Sam sighed, arching to accommodate
him.
“Amazing,” Hunter whispered. “Never felt that.”
“Hmm, maybe I can make you into my very own
sex addict. Keep you in bed indefinitely.”
Hunter hid his laughter in Sam’s shoulder. “Keep
doing that and you will succeed.”
“Good thing today is laundry day.” He wiped his
hand on the sheets. “Let’s go shower then I’ll

change the sheets.”
“You can move?” Hunter asked with playful
surprise.
“Only because I’m in the wet spot.” Sam kissed
the tip of Hunter’s nose. “Come on, Viking. Get a
move on.” A light smack on a bare butt cheek added
emphasis.
Hunter complied, though grudgingly.
Sam watched Hunter’s sculpted frame unfold out
of the bed. A long stretch for the ceiling elongated
his body and Sam wanted to kneel behind him and
massage those shoulders, or run his tongue up the
channel of his spine. The way Hunter made him feel
— always hungry, always wanting to touch — was
killing him. He didn’t want to overwhelm Hunter,
though.
Oh, the hell with it. The need was impossible to
resist. He scooted across the bed and framed
Hunter’s hips with his hands, holding him still at
the edge of the bed. Running in massaging circles
from ass to shoulder, he explored. Hunter flexed
and sighed, but didn’t move away.

Muscle and skin. It was like an aphrodisiac to

Sam. Leaning close, he dragged the flat of his
tongue up Hunter’s spine, hearing the deep hiss
morph to a groan in the process. He smiled. Sam
couldn’t help himself, roaming with open mouthed
kisses, swirling his tongue to capture every taste.
Hunter’s hands repeatedly fisted at his sides. When
Sam sought higher, reaching for Hunter’s nape,
Hunter’s head fell forward, exposing every inch of
tempting neck. Sam nipped with light teeth, then
laved over the spot, licking away the sting.
“God, Sam,” Hunter moaned. “So good.”
“Mm hm. You’re delicious,” he drawled, taking
another lick. Hunter’s shoulders shook with quiet
laughter

filling

the

bedroom.

Infatuation?

Addiction? Sam wasn’t sure which to call it, but he
knew he was sunk. Resting his forehead to the
supple skin in front of him, he whispered, “Don’t
wait two months again.” He wrapped his arms
around Hunter’s midsection. Hunter covered his
hands, holding them together in the most intrinsic
of ways.
“I won’t. But I also understand better why you

never seemed enthusiastic with continuing what we
had, what we have now.”
“Believe me, baby, I’m enthusiastic.” He inched
closer on his knees. Gliding a reinvigorated shaft
against him, Hunter’s ass clenched in surprised
answer as flesh met flesh. “Does that scare you?”
Sam asked gently. He had to remember to not rush,
but the way Hunter drove Sam crazy, it was so
damned hard.
Hunter didn’t answer right away, as though
considering what Sam was asking. “Yes, but not
because I don’t want to know. Only because it’s
something I’m still adjusting to.”
Lashes lowered and Sam had to calm his heart as
it galloped wildly in his chest. I could love you forever, so
easily. “What if you started with me?”
A fresh shiver slid down Hunter’s frame. Sam
pressed loving kisses to the skin beneath his lips to
chase it.
“You would let me…”
Sam caught the hitch, the hesitation. “In a
heartbeat. I want to feel you. There’s nothing else

like it,” he encouraged. Hunter’s fingers flexed,
caging then releasing the hands he covered. It felt to
Sam like he was considering it. Easing a hand free of
Hunter’s hold, he slid south and almost moaned.
Hunter was thick and full, utterly turned on. He
cupped the heavy weight of Hunter’s balls, rolling
them between exploring fingers, back and forth.
Hunter tightened in waves against Sam’s chest as he
played with his gorgeous body. “You want to fuck
me, don’t you? You want to stick this dick so deep
inside me I won’t be able to sit for a week.”
Hunter groaned, his breathing growing haggard.
“Keep talking, baby. Help me,” he added in a soft
whisper.
“You like me, don’t you, Hunter?” he asked.
“Oh, God. Yes.” He whimpered as Sam tugged
and played.
“You think I’m sexy? You love the way I touch
you, yes? You love the way it feels when I hold you,
like this.” He palmed his sac and massaged the
hardening globes within. Hunter’s entire body
shook. “Or when I stroke you.” He fisted Hunter’s
cock and did as good as his word.

Hunter gulped, gasping now.
“Think how good it would feel to be buried deep
in tight heat. Sunk balls-deep inside me. Pounding
into me and hearing me beg for more.” His own
shaft pulsed with need, making his voice grow
graveled.
“Aw fuck,” Hunter growled. His hips pistoned
lightly with the stroke of Sam’s hand.
“Tell me you want to fuck me, Hunter.” He kept
jacking off the throbbing cock in his hand. “I want
you to.”
“Shit.” A slow breath lifted those strong
shoulders, then so carefully he plucked Sam’s hand
away to spin in Sam’s arms. Blue eyes glittered.
“Yes.”
Sam nodded, guiding Hunter back to the bed.
“Right there.” Delving beneath the pillow, he
uncovered the lube where he’d stashed it. Lying
back on an elbow, he slid slicked fingers to his hole.
He never broke Hunter’s stare. “Feels good,” he
managed, gasping as tingles shot north from his ass.
“Help me,” he asked, echoing Hunter’s needs.

He almost whimpered when Hunter’s first caress
met skin.
“Don’t be shy, baby. Slick me up.” He squirted
more lube and pushed a finger in, showing Hunter
it didn’t hurt. It felt fucking fantastic.
When Hunter gingerly tugged his hand out of the
way, Sam held his breath. Anticipation snapped like
static electricity. With a light as air touch, Hunter
took over where Sam left off.
“Like this?” His voice was raspy and awed.
“Yes, like…that.” Sam moaned. His free hand
roamed over his chest, awash in dual sensations.
Sam encouraged him with whispered moans and
gasps. He licked dry lips, unsure how much more he
could take without self-combusting. He hunted for
the condom packet, reaching the end of his control.
“Here, baby. Now. Need you now.”
Hunter took it from him and opened it to roll
down his shaft.
“Go slow,” Sam warned him. Hunter nodded,
worry and concentration tightening his brow. Sam
soothed him with a sweeping caress over his arm.

“Please.”
Hunter hung in space and time where he knelt,
Sam waited, hardly daring to move or blink. Don’t
rush him, don’t rush him.
When Hunter looked up, Sam’s heart almost
broke. Desolation and heartache. The pain of his
past was as brutally clear as the hair on his head.
Hunter’s mouth opened, but he said nothing. Then,
“I’m sorry.” He sank back on his calves; his head
drooped like a water-logged leaf.
“Do you want me, Hunter?” Sam forced his voice
to not shake with the building hurt.
“I do,” he replied. “So much. But…”
A moment of tense silence passed. Hunter looked
beaten. Just like he had when Sam had first met him.
“No.” He said it under his breath, but meant it from
his soul. Whether it was a flashback of past defeat
and failure, or if he truly couldn’t take the final step,
Sam wasn’t going to let him flagellate himself
further. “Lie down, sweetheart. Let me show you it
can be perfect.”
Hunter lifted dull eyes.

Sam smiled for him. “On your back. Relax.”
When Hunter finally complied stretching across the
bed avoiding their previous marks on the sheets,
Sam massaged flesh, reawakening Hunter’s softening
erection, sharing kisses until Hunter began to return
them with renewed passion. He made sure the
condom was still snug, adding a little teasing with it
until Hunter’s breathing wasn’t as steady as it had
been. He straddled Hunter’s hips. Then with a hand
on a shoulder and guiding Hunter’s stiff shaft with
the other, Sam slowly lowered, locked onto the wide
gaze of blue staring up at him.
His weight did most of the work. His lashes
fluttered as flesh rolled over nerves, shooting fiery
shocks upward. Once he was settled, gasping as his
body adjusted to the invasion and inevitable burn
for rushing in his own need, he focused on Hunter
again. “Still okay?”
Hunter nodded, a stilted movement. Sam rolled a
little, and Hunter moaned. He did it again, and
Hunter mimicked him. That’s it, gorgeous, let it go. Fuck
me. He slid a hand over his dick, noticing Hunter
watching him intently. Slowly, Hunter’s inhibitions

and doubts leaked out of his gaze, leaving a brazen
heat in its wake, singeing Sam. Hunter really did
want him, wanted this. His past and fears were
hurdles they could topple together.
Slow and shallow pumps grew in speed, thrusting
harder as Hunter’s confidence blossomed. He could
tell by the intensity of his stare how Hunter was
feeling, when his body began to respond and react
to the natural actions of sex. Sam moaned, bracing
himself on Hunter’s solid chest, letting himself sink
into Hunter’s care. “Yes! Oh, fuck, yes. Fill me!”
Hunter’s shaft rolled over his hot button again and
again. Sam shouted Hunter’s name, his head thrown
back as he arched to feel the striking heat at every
inch, on every nerve.
Hunter moaned, his hands clutching at Sam’s
waist, helping him rise and fall, rise and fall. There
was no hesitation in any touch, any caress as Hunter
took control.
Sam wasn’t going to last, not with the throbbing
thrust of Hunter hot as a torpedo filling him inch
by erotic inch. Sam whipped his hand up and down
his shaft keeping Hunter’s pace, panting as bliss tore

through him. He held out as long as he could, until
Hunter’s thrusts became erratic, jarring him as he
shot into the condom. “Yes!” Sam shouted. “Love
that.” He groaned as heat filled him, triggering his
own orgasm. Dollops ripped from the end of his
engorged dick, shots of white cream that drained
him dry.
Gasping, Sam collapsed forward, Hunter catching
him in a steel embrace. It was quite a bit later before
Sam found the energy to suggest the shower again.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Hunter stared blankly at the calendar on his desk.

Two weeks. Two weeks since he’d made his madcap
drive to Florida, and it still felt like he’d left a chunk
of himself behind. It was killing him, slowly, to be
so far from Sam. Their weekend together had been
beyond anything he’d hoped for, or expected. He’d
never dreamed the direction his life would take, and
was beginning to seriously question what he was
doing, where he was going, how he wanted to get
there, and with whom.
It felt like waking up after a very long nap.
His cell phone vibrated on his desk. He picked it
up and checked the message. A text from Sam. Miss
you. Call me tonight.
Miss you too. It was a foregone conclusion he’d
call. They talked almost every night. Darkening the
screen, he felt even lonelier.
“Geez, Hunter. Who kicked your dog?”
He straightened and looked over his shoulder at
his desk neighbor, Gloria. “What are you talking
about?”

“You’ve done nothing but sigh and mope for
weeks since your honeymoon trip. You can’t tell me
you are still in love with her?”
“Who?” Gloria arched a finely shaped eyebrow.
“Oh, God no,” Hunter replied, getting on the right
track, jerking in indignation at the suggestion.
“Stefani and I are only friends now. She’s very
happy with Tim.” Hunter wouldn’t be at all
surprised if she ended up married to him in the
future. He couldn’t find an ounce of anger any
longer over it either.
“Then what’s with the subterfuge?” She nodded
toward the phone still in his hand. “Is someone else
yanking you around, Hunter? I swear, you need to
find a woman who appreciates a hard working
man.”
Hunter almost laughed at her scowl. Gloria was
the defender for all those in the office when life beat
them up. She needed a superhero cape. She hadn’t
been the one to offer to help bolster his waning self-
confidence upon Stefani’s defection either.
He rolled the phone in his palm, searching for the
right words. “I think I have found someone,” he

offered evasively.
“Are you happy?” she asked, leaning closer,
dropping her voice to keep it more private.
“In more ways than I can name,” he allowed.
She smiled. “Sounds to me like you’re in love,
Hunter. Trust a grandma; she knows love when she
sees it.”
“Love?” Was love even possible? Between two
men? He knew he hadn’t been in love with Stefani.
Was he in love with Sam?
“Is she the reason you were in Florida?”
His mouth popped open to automatically correct
her assumption, but he froze. He hadn’t even told
his father yet about what had been going on with his
son of late. To his knowledge, there was absolutely
no one in the office who was gay. How would they
react? Would they accept it? Give him shit over it?
Shit, the whole idea of sharing it gave him chills.
“Oh, Hunter. Don’t do something on the
rebound, okay?” His silence had apparently drawn a
blunt picture for Gloria. “There are so many out
there, good women.”

Instead of opening his mouth and blurting
something truly embarrassing, he simply nodded.
She gave him a light pat on his shoulder when she
stood from her chair. “It’ll all be okay. In a year, if
that long, you’ll see.”
He didn’t refute her, didn’t ask for more either as
she walked away from him. She did make him see he
needed to at least try to talk to his dad. Because if he
was in love, then there was a good chance he’d be
giving his notice very, very soon.

§

§

§

Sam stumbled into his apartment and went right
for the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. He
guzzled it without drawing a breath. Man, he hated
the recumbent bike in the complex gym set, but that
shit worked. His legs were still shaking. He sucked a
deep breath when the bottle was empty, his heart
finally beginning to slow. The two and a half mile
run before probably hadn’t made the two more he did
on the bike any less painful.
He sagged forward, his damp forehead sticking to
the colder metal with his eyes closed as he simply

panted from the exertion. Aside from working at
the collector’s shop, exercise was about the only way
he could keep himself from obsessing over Hunter.
It was driving him to distraction missing him so
much. Sam wasn’t doing it deliberately, he was
eating, but he’d shed another five pounds
somewhere. He had no idea where or how. He could
imagine Hunter’s face when they saw each other
again — whenever that might be.
And that was the problem. Three weeks were
stretching into four. A month. And how long before
it was two again? Sam was going to go insane like
this.
Breathing normally once more, he stood straight.
He took an analytical sweep of his apartment. The
furniture wasn’t abused; he could probably sell it.
He could store some with his dads. He had a few
things he’d like to keep, but he was sure his brothers
would be all too happy to take what he couldn’t. He
lived modestly, but in a safe area. He spent smart,
not impulsively, so he had a stable bank account in
case work was harder to find. Heck, with Jonathon
on the verge of graduating high school, he could

take over the apartment for Sam. That was a good
plus. Even less to have to disperse with. The lists
were forming and getting ticked off in his mind.
He shook himself when he realized what he was
doing.
Was

he seriously considering packing up

everything and moving for Hunter?
Staring at the phone and willing it to ring, he
knew when it didn’t, he had his answer.
But first, he had to know Hunter’s heart. If Sam
was only a novelty, an experiment — no matter
what Hunter tried to convince himself to believe
otherwise — then he had to accept the truth and
move on. The sex had been…unbelievable. Hunter
was still nervous, even through the remainder of the
weekend they’d spent in each other’s arms, though
he didn’t encounter the same freezing fear of failure
as he had his first time.
Sam loved him enough to want him to heal.
Loved him enough to hold him through the fears
and doubts. He knew his Viking was a strong man.
He just had to get Hunter to see it. He was up for
the task.

Sam ripped the soaked shirt he wore over his
head, tossing it willy-nilly into the hamper in his
bedroom. Standing over his laptop, he turned it on
and toed off his sneakers while he waited for it to
boot up. Once the screen was waiting, he sat on the
edge of the bed and plugged in pages for flights.
The prices made him wince, but he didn’t have the
patience to make the drive. Not now. If all he got to
do was tell Hunter how he felt only to watch him
refuse it…then so be it. But he couldn’t live with
this indecisiveness, waiting like an antsy school girl
by the phone to ring every night. Waiting for an
email. Some hint of vindication. Some form of
affection. He knew it was deeper than that. Hunter
wanted him, and Sam wanted, needed, Hunter in his
life. They’d become more than lovers in those days
on the island. They’d become friends. And he’d felt
it again the weekend he’d spent with him in Florida.
If Sam could find a way to keep all of it, he’d do
anything.
Including moving to Pennsylvania to be with him.
With flights listed, he left the computer to go
shower. He wasn’t going to do this spontaneously.

He wanted a plan, a battle plan, on how to attack
this. First, find him and get to the bottom of
Hunter’s intentions. Kiss him senseless. Find out
where he saw the both of them, find out if this crazy
hunger eating at Sam was one sided. Then kiss him
senseless again.
Somehow, he hoped the kissing would work in
his favor. He scrubbed his sticky, damp hair,
washing away the heat and sweat of his workout. He
needed to call his dads and let them know he would
be gone. Maybe he’d have Jonathon house-sit for
him anyway. Sam was sure he’d like a little privacy
of his own if he could get it.
A quick rinse and he was almost leaping from the
shower, a renewed energy lifting him up. He tugged
on clothes almost by rote rather than by choice,
then he checked his cell phone. No messages yet.
Damn. Sam sighed.
“Yeah, you’re being pathetic, Sam. Man up. Find
his ass, tackle him, and don’t let him up until he
either says he’s madly in love with you or you’re a
screaming queen who needs a life.” He nodded
sharply. That was the plan.

He focused on the screen of the phone, swiftly
dialing his dads’. He sat again on the edge of the
bed, but was too wired to stay there, even after a full
day at the store and a workout meant to lay him out
like a felled tree. He popped to his feet. “Hi, Dad,”
Sam said when he answered.
“Hi, Sam. How’s it going?”
“Good. Good,” he answered absently. “Look, I
need to take some time off from the store, maybe a
few days.” He began pacing the apartment, walking
out of his bedroom.
“Oh? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” God, this was going to sound like Sam
had a few screws loose. “I’m going to fly to
Pennsylvania.”
“Going to see Hunter? That’s fine. Beau and I
really liked him when you brought him to dinner.”
That warmed Sam in so many ways. It was a hard
fought for stamp of approval, and they’d given it.
“Yeah, there’re a few things I really need to talk
to him about, and it would really be better to do it
face to face.”

“Well, let us know how things —”
A knock on Sam’s door broke him away from
what his father was saying.
“Hold on. Someone’s at the door.” Sam peeked
through the viewport, leaned away, then whipped to
press his face against the door like a kid boring
through a candy store window to stare through it
again in disbelief. “Um, Dad? Let me call you back,”
he croaked.
“What’s wrong, Sam? Is some —”
Sam didn’t even hear him as he ended the call. It
was because his heart was pounding like a drum into
his ribs, forcing blood against his ears in a wave
making it near impossible to hear anyway.
He swallowed, then raised a shaky hand to undo
the deadbolt. The next knock was interrupted when
the lock snapped out of place.
Sam inched the door open. Setting sunlight
blazed behind the man waiting outside.
“Hi. Um.” He looked so cute as he tried to be
serious, like he was trying to sell Sam a car. His
hands were deep in his front pockets, hidden. “I

drove and the hotel was full. Can I sleep on your
couch?”
Sam shook himself, actually taking in everything
about the blond in front of him. A bulging suitcase
leaned precariously by his leg. He was wearing
casual clothes, not work jeans or an office shirt, and
a hesitant smile. Not an impromptu appearance.
“Hunter?” Sam pitched the phone over a
shoulder, not caring if it landed on the couch
cushions or not, and leaped into Hunter’s arms.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Sam wiggled closer to Hunter and he responded

by grasping him tighter. “Hi, baby,” Hunter
whispered against his ear. He went to walk through
the door, then paused. “Let me grab my stuff.”
Sam nodded, slinking loose, stunned beyond
words. Once Sam waited a few feet away, Hunter
palmed the handle to his suitcase and lugged it
inside, closing the door behind him.
“Now.” He opened his arms and Sam didn’t wait
for a second, leaping into his welcoming embrace.
“Missed you so much.” Hungry kisses were floating
along his jaw and neck. “I hope it’s okay to just
show up. I can go stay at a hotel.”
“Shut up,” he choked, digging fingers into blond
hair. “Don’t need a stupid hotel or the couch.” He
lifted enough to find Hunter’s mouth and kissed
him, a deep, do-or-die possession. Hunter trembled
against his chest where they pressed together. Then
strong hands were cupping Sam’s head and Hunter
was delving, thrusting, devouring. Sam’s eyes rolled
into the back of his head as his entire world became

the heat of the man holding him…carrying him…
laying him out on the bed. Hunter pressed him into
the mattress, his hard body covering Sam’s inch by
inch.
It took no time at all for his pulse to migrate to
his dick, thickening beneath the shorts he wore.
Hunter undulating against him, rubbing all over
him, wasn’t helping his condition any.
“Hunter?” Sam sucked a haggard breath, gazing
up into the face he loved. He could barely think
with this hot man driving him out of his mind. And
he was there, in Sam’s apartment, in his arms. Oh,
God. He was almost delirious.
Hunter let out a sharp groan, full of impatient
restraint. “Right. Should probably talk a little
before…” He hefted himself up and away from
Sam, but stretched out a hand to help him off the
bed.
“Sam, what’s this?” Hunter asked as Sam reached
his feet at Hunter’s side, bouncing off the bed’s
edge.
Hunter was staring at the flight page on the
computer screen. Sam forgot he’d left it there on his

nightstand when he’d called his dad.
“Flights to Harrisburg,” he replied.
“Why?” Hunter asked on a breathless whisper.
He stared with bold eyes at Sam.
“I was coming to see you,” Sam admitted, looking
at him then away with a swift sweep.
Hunter clasped a hand and dragged Sam down to
the bed, but to sit side by side. “You were coming
to Pennsylvania to see me?” Sam wasn’t sure how to
read his shocked tone.
“Well, you’d driven to see me,” Sam argued,
going with the truth. “Twice now. I felt it was only
fair.” Now, he was nervous to make his claim, his
plans flitting away on wings of fear. What if he was
wrong? He held onto the hand still gripped in his,
the one Hunter had used to tug him to the bed.
Hunter was keeping him close. Very, very close. He
wished he knew which vision to trust. The one he
wanted to see with Hunter so close, or the one he
feared.
“I knew I should have called, but I wanted it to
be a surprise,” Hunter mumbled. “What if I’d

missed you?” Horror at the possibility made
Hunter’s face pale.
“I love this surprise,” Sam told him, easing
Hunter’s dismay. “You never mentioned coming
this week.” Sam was sure he’d remember this in a
conversation.
“Because I didn’t.” Hunter lifted the hand he held
and kissed the top of it. “I don’t have one clue of
how I’m supposed to do this, but…” Another
steadying breath. “I love you.”
Silence fell as Sam’s pulse kicked into a new gear.
He licked a trembling lip, aware his mouth was dry
as sand. “Say it again.”
“I love you. What I feel for you is so much more
than I ever thought I’d find.” Hunter let their
twined hands fall to his lap. He bowed his head.
When he raised his chin again, there was steely
determination in his eyes. “I gave my two weeks
notice, and I have a job interview next Tuesday with
a firm here.”
Sam’s heart tripped. “You…quit your job?
You’re moving here?” Sam didn’t know where to
begin as joy exploded inside his chest.

“I don’t expect you to let me move in. I’ll get a
place and —”
Sam gave him a hard, passionate kiss. “Shut. Up.
You will not. Oh, my God.” He shook. He didn’t
know where to begin. “You’re really moving here?”
Hunter nodded, the shy smile on his lips gaining
in confidence.
“Hunter!” Sam tackled him to the bed, laughing.
“That’s why I was flying up to see you.” He
straddled Hunter’s hips. “I love you. Oh, shit. I love
you so damned much. You are amazing.”
Hunter’s bright blue eyes widened. “Really? Like
for real, love me?”
“Like got to have you in my life or go insane, love
you.”
Hunter chuckled, then bit it off only to break out
in unrestrained laughter. “I thought I was the only
one who did that. I was going crazy with needing to
be with you. Gloria at work said I looked like I was
in love, but —”
Sam knew where he was going as soon as the light
in his eyes dimmed so Sam silenced him with

another hot and hard kiss. He was panting when he
rose from Hunter’s molded lips. “Shh. You are fully
worth being loved. I was utterly lovesick without
you.” He lowered to bent elbows to whisper into
Hunter’s ear. “Never tell a soul, but I would pace by
the phone for your calls at night.”
“Seriously?” Hunter asked, with a breathless
wonder. Like he’d never thought he could inspire
that kind of need.
“Completely. Too much time apart drove me to
coming to you.”
“Won’t happen again. I’m not going back.”
That surprised Sam, arching above Hunter to see
his full face. “You’re not?”
Something painful haunted Hunter’s gaze.
Hunter raised a hand upward to thread into Sam’s
hair. Sam couldn’t help but notice it shook. “Dad
didn’t take my recent changes well.”
The flat octave in his voice worried Sam. What
happened? “I’m so sorry.”
Silence hung between them for a few moments.
Sam didn’t push, letting Hunter decide if he wanted

to explain or not. Patience won out.
Hunter was very subdued when he broke the
silence. “When I asked him why it was so bad to like
another man, he said it wasn’t natural. Claiming it
went against God.” He cursed under his breath.
“What’s crazy is Dad has never been religious. He
said being gay was wrong in so many ways, but
when I asked him in what ways, he only got
madder.”
“Damn, baby,” Sam said, soothing him with light
touches wherever he could reach.
“I asked, or tried to, if women were so worthless,
why should I not accept that being gay could be why
I couldn’t be happy, why I was never fully
comfortable with Stefani.” Heavy silence hung like a
damp pall in the air, his gaze glued onto his hand’s
motions. “He threatened to shoot me.”
“Oh fuck! Hunter!”
Sam blanketed him, appalled and unable to
vocalize by how much. Instead, he hugged like an
octopus as a tense Hunter trembled beneath him. A
raw sob splintered what remained of the quiet. Sam
held him through the storm. Sam couldn’t even

imagine what Hunter had faced. Rejection he’d seen,
even a family disowning a son for being gay, but
never… “Hunter, sweetheart,” he croaked, crying
with him. “Shh,” he crooned as sobs slowed to
muted groans. He squished his eyes closed to try to
contain his own tears, his heart ripped and bleeding
for the man in his arms. “I love you, my dads adore
you.” Sam prayed he never met Hunter’s father. If
there was ever a more cold-hearted man who never
should have been a father to begin with… Time to
change Hunter’s life for the better.
He continued to stroke and pet, leaving butterfly
kisses against closed eyes. Gently, Sam sipped at the
falling tears at the corner of his eyes, taking them
away, taking away the pain. His heart clenched
whenever Hunter’s breathing stuttered.
Positive he’d driven straight through again, Sam
didn’t force Hunter to move, didn’t expect him to
speak, and slowly, his breathing began to even out,
obviously drained physically and emotionally from
the confrontation with his father. Sam rolled to
Hunter’s side, stilling when he was blocked by a
strong arm capturing him against Hunter’s length.

He laid there, side by side for he didn’t know how
long, letting Hunter sleep while he rubbed circles
over his chest and stomach, stroking Hunter like he
would a distraught or restless baby. It used to work
with Jonathon, and it seemed to be working with
Hunter.
Once he was asleep, Sam inched away, carefully
removing Hunter’s shoes and folding the top
blanket on the bed over him. Hunter snored, which
made Sam grin. Then he grew sober. His heart
ached for the sleeping Viking in his bed. He backed
away until he reached the door. Walking through it,
he left it hanging half open so he could hear him
moving in the bedroom, then went in search of his
phone.
It didn’t take one ring for his dad to answer. “Are
you okay?”
“I’m fine, Dad.” The deep concern warmed him.
Instantly made him grateful for what he did have. “I
guess I won’t be needing those days off after all.
Well, actually, I’d like tomorrow, if that’s okay?”
“Sure, Sam. What’s going on?”

Sam gave Jacob the short version of Hunter’s

arrival, and his plans to move to Florida, though left
out Hunter’s father’s less than stellar reception to
his son’s news. It wasn’t Sam’s to share, and if it left
Sam feeling raw and wounded, he couldn’t imagine
the depth of anguish Hunter was suffering.
“So, I should go stop Jonathon from breaking
down your door, then?” Jacob offered with
amusement.
Sam palmed his forehead. “Yes, please tell
Gigantor I am fine.” He received a booming laugh
from his dad. Sam loved his brothers, but some
days…
“I will do that. Let me know if you need more
time off.”
“I will. Thanks, Dad.”
“Love you, Sam.”
“You too.” He swallowed when those simple
words choked him up. All the years Hunter never
felt like this… This cared for, this loved. And Sam
had been so lucky to be surrounded by it. A
houseful of men and friends who weren’t ashamed

to share it.
Disconnecting the call, Sam gazed into a sunbeam
slicing through the blinds as his mind tossed ideas
and dreams.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Hunter groaned when he woke up. This was

getting to be a bad habit, waking up in a bed he
didn’t recognize. He rubbed his eyes, then spotted
Sam’s laptop. Okay, he did know where he was. At
least he could relax knowing where he’d passed out
this time. He readjusted his position on the bed,
feeling the drag of the cover on a shoulder as the
last forty-eight hours became a burning lump in his
stomach. He wasn’t ready to face it again. It was a
relief he’d at least been able to explain a little to
Sam before he’d simply broke. His closed eyes
weren’t enough to protect him from the memory of
his father’s anger.
He had been wary of revealing himself to his dad
but had never expected the vitriol he’d received in
reaction. He shuddered, unable to hide from the
memory freshly burned into his psyche. He’d never
seen his father so furious, and he’d never anticipated
in his worst nightmares being chased out of his
father’s home with the threat of being murdered in
cold blood. He shivered, stifling the sobbed groan
by stuffing his mouth with the corner of the closest

pillow.
Then he had called Stefani, given her the keys to
his apartment and told her to clean it out, sell what
she could and dump the rest. She could keep the
money for all he cared. He’d packed and hit the
road.

Hunter

didn’t

want

anything

from

Pennsylvania other than the clothes he’d brought
and the things he’d stashed in his car he simply
couldn’t leave behind, like his computer and a few
college mementos. The rest was expendable. And
there was absolutely nothing of his father’s he
wanted. Nothing.
His father had made no bones about it. Hunter
was dead to him. He sucked a ragged breath, his
chest throbbing as pain gathered in another assault.
He fought it, and conquered the memories before
the pain they brought became excruciating.
A few seconds later, the bedroom door widened
and Sam walked in, giving him a sense of déjà vu,
holding a glass of water and with an open palm
showing two pills.
“Thought these might help,” Sam offered.
“They’re ibuprofen. You’ve been asleep for a few

hours. I guessed you needed it.”
Hunter nodded, cobwebs clogging a lot of his
thinking. He perched at the edge of the bed and
Sam dropped the two pills into his palm. A slug of
water helped send them down, then he drained the
glass, not realizing he was thirsty. “Thank you.”
Hunter placed the glass on the nightstand, then
reached for Sam. He came willingly when Hunter
tugged him into two arms which craved his
presence, hungered for the peace he realized he
could find there now, without shame, without
doubt. Sam straddled him to kneel on the bed’s
edge. Hunter buried himself against Sam’s neck.
“Missed this,” Hunter said.
Sam wrapped welcoming arms around the back of
Hunter’s head. “Missed you, too.” He nuzzled
against Hunter, holding him.
“It’s like I can’t get enough,” Hunter said,
brushing seeking lips over warm skin to feel the
reactions and to savor the taste. What he craved
with Sam was worlds apart from anything he’d ever
felt with Stefani, and he had years to compare. If
there were any lingering doubts, this was undeniable

proof. He was too happy to have someone who
loved him to care it meant he was in love with a
man, one who he could love in return when he’d
always believed he’d never have this at all. Or that it
made him blatantly gay. He’d never known this, now
he wasn’t about to give it up.
“I hope you never do. Always want me, like this,”
Sam whispered with a hint of raw hunger and even
more desire.
Hunter shivered as those words sank into him.
Stefani had wanted him, had cared, but this element,
a bone-deep need, had never been in their
relationship. He doubted Sam had any idea of how
he’d saved Hunter.
He coasted over Sam’s jaw, flicking out in teasing
licks with his tongue, catching the sharp shivers of
Sam’s reactions beneath his hands. He’d always
believed he’d had a fair, if not quite explosive, sex
life given his inability.
If that were the case, then what he’d discovered
with Sam was nuclear. Just holding him, caressing
and kissing down his neck, sent Hunter’s heart into
his ribs. Sam’s fingers plowing into his hair poured

shivers down his spine. He grunted when Sam
gripped him in firm hands and tipped him with
strength, arching his throat. Then his eyes closed
with a clang, his mind fogging to a blank as Sam
sucked and licked up and down his neck. A pulsing
throb centered between his legs, growing in strength
with each gasped breath.
Hunter filched a hand between their bodies when
the pressure became unbearable. Digging under his
waistband, he eased the pinch on his dick.
Apparently the action made Sam laugh with
rumbled humor, something dark and sexy and
beckoning.
“Love that, knowing how much I turn you on.”
The sensation of warm breath on skin was blinding.
Sam wasn’t slowing his attack at all, bowing Hunter
beneath his hands until he had no choice but to
bend, to fall to the mattress.
Sam guided him down to the bed, his hands deep
in Hunter’s hair, leaving his chin arched. Hunter
had no complaints. While Sam was laving over his
neck and chin, Hunter’s hands delved beneath his
shirt, petting silky skin under his palms. Broad

sweeps from shoulder to hip and beyond.
Sam twitched when Hunter dug into his shorts
and cupped his ass.
“Oh, shit,” Sam hissed, moaning and wiggling,
demanding more.
Since the weekend he’d spent there, Hunter had
wondered if he wanted Sam to fuck him. The more
Sam ground into him, blitzing his thoughts with a
bombardment of shocks from teeth and tongue, the
more he thought he might.
After what they’d already shared, things he’d
never dreamed of, he discovered he hungered for it,
for that absolute bliss of letting someone else be in
control. His ass flexed in response to his thoughts, a
flutter of need riffling through his stomach.
He whimpered, clutching Sam tighter. Sam
answered by kissing him, stroking between his lips
to duel and challenge him until Hunter was sure his
sanity was going to fall into question.
“Sam,” he moaned when Sam let him go, both
panting. He managed to open his eyes to slits, trying
to convey what he wanted in a look when he

couldn’t find the words or the voice to speak them.
It was still too foreign.
Sam peered down at him, searching for a few
seconds right before a gentle smile and loving heat
began to burn like nothing else in his life for him,
brightening Sam’s eyes above him.
“Are you sure?”
He gulped, but nodded, a fresh wave of shudders
striking to march goose bumps over flesh.
Sam smiled, a sensually sweet gift for Hunter
before Sam lowered to kiss him. Soft and warm,
passionate and giving. Hunter moaned in answer.
Following with his gaze as Sam wiggled away,
Hunter lay on the bed, watchful. Sam tenderly
stripped Hunter, dropping light kisses to exposed
skin. Hunter’s shaft rose toward his hip, heavy and
needing.
“Scoot,” Sam urged, encouraging Hunter to
center himself on the bed, which he did to roll to a
side and hold his head on a braced palm. Then he
got to watch as Sam undressed, gliding fabric over
smooth skin.

The hollow of Sam’s stomach when he stretched
broke Hunter’s concentration, a frown forming on
Hunter’s brow. “Sam?”
His arms fell, the shirt pulled across his width as
he tugged out of it. “Hmm?”
“Please tell me you’re not still losing weight.”
Sam’s cheeks reddened. “It wasn’t intentional. I
have been eating, at least more than I was.”
“You need someone to take care of you.” And
maybe force feed you a whole lasagna. It was an option if
Sam didn’t stop losing weight. Sam was slim, but no
one looked good when bones poked at skin.
Sam’s mouth twitched then lifted with a soft
snicker. “I do have someone. He’s in my bed.”
Problem addressed, if not yet solved. It was
definitely something Hunter would help him with.
“Good. Now hurry up and join him,” Hunter
prodded. He couldn’t wait to feel all that skin under
his hands again. Sam inched onto the bed, crawling
up to Hunter.
Warm kisses started slow, but grew to a feverish
intensity. Hunter went willingly when Sam rolled

him to his back, hardly letting any breaks happen in
his kiss.
Tender swipes caressed his chest. “Love how hard
and tight you are,” Sam said, running fingers over
Hunter’s front, playing with teasing flicks to his nips
until they were hard points and sensitive to every
brush and breeze. Hunter hissed when Sam lowered
to suck at one nipple, repeating the same flicked
torture with his tongue that his fingers had
delivered.
Hunter nearly howled when the crown of his cock
was enveloped in wet heat, enough of a tease to
make him jerk, his spine growing taut with sensual,
needy hunger. Sam hummed and Hunter’s breath
rushed from his lungs.
Sam was melting him into the bed. He opened his
eyes, taking in the sight of him licking over the head
and his eyes fluttered shut, unable to do anything
but lay there at his mercy. Like their first time when
Sam had shocked him with a blowjob to end all
blowjobs.
He widened his straddle to accommodate Sam as
he positioned himself between Hunter’s thighs. “I’m

going to go slow, baby.”
Hunter croaked an answer. He was pretty sure it
was a yes, or some equivalent of okay. Every nerve
in his body tingled. Anticipation made him burn.
Sam had loved him and well, but he’d never gone as
far as what was coming next. The shock of tactile
sensation had Hunter groaning like he was dying.
“Oh, fuck! That…yes, don’t stop,” he urged, a
deep, driving hunger beating at him as the wet pass
of Sam’s tongue made a repeat performance against
his rectum. He curled his legs up, and Sam helped
brace them. He’d never felt anything like it in his
lifetime. Never knew how sensitive he could be or
that what Sam was doing could make his cock
harder than he could ever remember being in his
lifetime. His balls clenched. His dick throbbed. Sam
licked. Hunter whined. No wonder Sam enjoyed this
so much.
“Hold on, lover,” Sam told him, pressing a tender
kiss to Hunter’s inner thigh. Warm breath passed
over damp flesh and he waited, gasping for air.
“Something new,” Sam warned him as a slick and
cool pressure slid within his body.

“Oh, shit,” he managed, his head rocking on the
pillow.
“Still okay?”
“Fuck, yes! Don’t stop,” he pleaded. The steady
sawing motion was nice, triggering a need inside of
him and he pushed back against it before he
reconciled the need with the action.
At the same time the widening burn registered,
Sam lapped up one hard round in Hunter’s sac,
playing with it gently with a wicked tongue. Then
Sam found something inside Hunter that literally
felt like he’d been hit with an electric current. It
zinged upward, up his spine and rocketed up his
dick.
Hunter didn’t know what to do with his hands, so
he balled them into fists in the bedding. It seemed
safest to keep him from shooting off the bed
altogether.
“Good?”
“More,” he managed.
“Don’t worry, baby. I got you.” Sam’s touch was
tender, loving and so opposite of the volcanic

sensations careening through Hunter. He was sure
his head was going to explode right off his
shoulders.
The sawing returned, the strokes even and deep as
more pressure and strength filled him.
Hunter felt like he could catch his breath when
the fullness slid away. The sound of foil and skin on
skin infiltrated his lust-hazed brain.
“God, you’re magnificent,” Sam praised him.
“Viking gorgeous.”
Hunter sought Sam’s face through slit eyelids, his
cheeks flushed and his eyes dark yet bright with
need.
“Keep them up, baby,” he coaxed with a palm on
one of Hunter’s raised thighs, then Sam was at his
entrance.
“Oh, oh…oh,” he cried in rising volume. When
Sam slowed, Hunter snarled. “No! Don’t stop.”
The next few seconds were mind-blowing as Sam
filled him. Heat and solid flesh throbbed inside
Hunter in such a way, he was sure he’d never
recover.

“Gotta move, baby,” Sam ground out, his voice
rough and haggard with restraint. Hunter
encouraged him, rolling his hips as best as he could,
given his position. Then everything in the world
vacuumed to Sam moving over him, inside him, and
how amazingly perfect it felt. Each stroke was a bell
of freedom, each panted grunt and gasp a litany of
music that vanquished the deepest condemnations
of his past.
“So good,” Hunter gasped. He sucked in a breath
when Sam leaned forward, pressing into him as he
pinned him down, literally caging him beneath his
frame. And Hunter answered him, meeting his lips
in a kiss that burned all the way to the back of his
skull.
“Make yourself come, baby,” Sam growled. “Not
going to last much longer.”
When Hunter focused, the light of love and
possession was so intense, Hunter’s breath froze in
his chest. The next thrust of hips had him obeying
Sam’s wish, a hand wrapping around and pumping
his engorged cock.
Sam’s mouth parted, his focus drawn to Hunter’s

hand for a few seconds before his eyes closed and
his body began to slam into Hunter’s. “Shit,
Hunter,” he moaned. Grunts escalated and Hunter’s
eyes shot open as the unbelievable heat of Sam’s
cum filled the condom.
Like a meeting of the perfect storm, his orgasm
erupted, his dick throbbing as he ejaculated in thick
spurts onto his chest and abdomen. The world spun
as oxygen ceased to exist for a span of seconds.
Gradually, the room righted itself around him.
Sam guided Hunter’s legs to the bed. He gasped,
then groaned in protest as the motion took away the
fullness and heat of Sam’s dick filling him.
Sam swiped a hand down his face. “Wow,” he
whispered.
Hunter’s panting was easing and he couldn’t
restrain the smile for the wonderful man in front of
him. “Wow,” he echoed. Sam leaned close, brushing
swollen lips together.
“I’ll be right back.”
Hunter nodded, content to watch Sam cross the
room. Content to never move again if he could hold

onto this weightlessness forever.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Sam waved to his dads as they left the store for

lunch. Popo had surprised Dad, showing up
unannounced and Sam wasn’t going to let a good
surprise go to waste. He’d kicked them both out
with an order to enjoy the afternoon. Jacob said
he’d be back to lock the store. Sam smiled and
shrugged. He wasn’t worried about it. Tuesdays
were usually slow, which left dusting, straightening,
and reading. There was all the new art to prep for
the floor, but it would get done, piece by piece.
About an hour into his stretch of boredom, the
store’s door slowly drifted open, and a bent figure
shuffled through. Once it closed, blocking the
sunlight glare, he realized it was Paul.
“What’s wrong?” he said, hopping off the stool
rushing from around the counter to his friend.
“He’s gone.” Paul stopped, snuffling and
sniffling, dragging his feet. Paul slumped into Sam
when he slung an arm over his shoulders.
“Who?”
“Brady. He’s gone.”

Brady? The light bulb clicked on. “Mr. Fireman?”
Paul nodded. “Yeah.” A shudder rocked him and
Sam worried he was going to crumple where he
stood.
“Where did he go?”
“He transferred to Ohio.” Paul’s expression was
pained. “He wasn’t gay!”
“Huh?”
Paul whipped up, his eyes glistening with tears of
heartache. “All this time, I thought he was in the
closet, hiding. The fucker is engaged!”
“Oh hell,” Sam cried softly in sympathy.
Tucking Paul under an arm, he guided him
toward the back of the store. “Here, sit.” Paul
obeyed, numbly.
“I called into work today. I couldn’t deal with it.
No wonder he never noticed me.” He accepted the
tissues Sam held for him, blowing his nose with a
goose-like honk. Sam petted his shoulder.
“It’ll be okay, eventually,” Sam offered, though he
knew how weak it sounded.

“So much time wasted pining for his ass,” Paul

croaked. He sopped up his tears. Sam lifted the
trash can to let Paul toss the damp wad. He set
down the can and soothed him by running his
fingers through his hair.
Paul hiccupped. “Sam?”
“What, hon?”
“Why didn’t we ever happen?”
Sam was struck speechless. “Um… Because
you’re my best friend.”
Paul’s head still hung like a whipped dog’s. “You
know, I’ve always loved you.”
“I know,” he replied. “And I’ll always love you,
but you need to find the right guy.”
“No.” He sighed then straightened, peering at
him through unblinking eyes. Clear eyes. “I mean, I
love you.”
Sam’s hand paused. “Paul…” His arm sank to his
side. “You’re hurting, baby. You don’t love me.”
“No. Dickface hurt you. Give me a chance.”
“Paul.” The expression on his friend’s face was
worrying Sam. He thrust out a hand. He didn’t

doubt Paul was strongly debating a launched tackle.
And deeply confused. “Don’t, Paul. I’m in love with
Hunter.”
Paul’s face scrunched up. “But he hurt you.”
“And I forgave him. He loves me.” He caught it
out of the corner of his eye as the topic of their
conversation approached the door from the outside.
His attention shifted to the opening door, and the
handsome stud walking through it right when Paul
knocked his hand away to lurch off the stool. He
landed with a bone-smacking thud against Sam’s
chest.
“Give me a chance, Sam,” he pleaded into Sam’s
ear, clinging.
Sam’s mouth fell open. “Paul! Stop this!” He
jerked at Paul’s shoulders.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Sam’s face heated, but a single glance at Hunter’s
expression showed no anger, only a hint of wry
sympathy.
Reluctantly, Paul unwound himself, his gaze
downcast. “What is so wrong with me?”

“Nothing, hon.” Sam swept away lingering tears
while holding Paul’s chin. “Now, deep breath.
Okay?”
Paul stiffly nodded.
“You’ll find him,” Sam soothed.
“I doubt it,” Paul mumbled, rubbing a shaking
hand over his eyes. “No one ever wants the runt.”
Sam let out a sigh. That was Paul’s largest
stumbling block. Zilch in self-esteem. He’d been
picked on for his size for as long as Sam could
remember and unfortunately, believed a lot of it,
taking it to heart.
“Paul, this is Hunter.”
Paul flinched. “Don’t hurt me.”
“Why would I do that?” Hunter asked.
Paul raised tired eyes. “For throwing myself at
Sam.”
“He is irresistible.”
Paul groaned. “Great. He’s hot and has a sense of
humor.”
Sam chuckled, noting how Hunter’s eyebrows

leaped at Paul’s assessment. Paul slid a step away,
still avoiding actually getting too close to Hunter.
Sam reached out and caught him.
“You going to be okay?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He wiggled
his shoulder out from underneath Sam’s palm. “I’ll
call you.”
“You better,” Sam warned him. He watched as
Paul walked out the door, paused on the sidewalk,
then walked away, his hands still shoved into his
pockets and dragging his feet. Sam shook his head.
“Damn.”
“Bad day?”
“Really bad.” He twisted to take in his boyfriend
and Paul’s problems faded away with the amazing
deliciousness now filling his view. “Wow. You look
amazing.” Sam raised a flat palm and ran it over the
front of Hunter’s suit jacket, flicking fingers at the
shimmery tie hanging down his front. Sam had left
before Hunter had been ready for his interview so
this was his first chance to see his man all decked
out.

“You like it?” Hunter ran his hands down his

coat front. “It’s already too hot for it, but I wanted
to make a good impression.”
Sam paused in his admiration long enough to ask,
“How’d it go?”
Hunter’s eyes gave him away before his mouth
even curved. “I got the job!”
Sam threw himself at Hunter. “Yes! Knew you
could do it.” Hunter hugged him close then set him
back on his feet.
“Even better, they’re making me an assignment
manager for one of their newer offices.”
“No way!” Sam reached up and planted a solid
kiss on his lips. “Oh wow! That is so awesome!
We’ll have to celebrate. Tonight,” Sam purred.
“I also got a call from Stefani.”
That didn’t sound as good. “And?” Sam asked
subdued.
Hunter rolled his shoulders. “Nothing’s changed.
I need to accept that chapter, that part of my life, is
over.”
This time, Sam wound a hand upward to cup

Hunter’s ear. “It changes nothing here, between us,
from me. You know my family has adopted you.”
Hunter lost some of the pain etched into his
features. “And it means everything to me.” Hunter
looked around apparently noticing they were alone.
“Where is everyone?”
“Beau surprised Dad for lunch. No idea when
they’ll be back.”
“Here alone?”
“With you,” Sam pointed out.
Hunter pouted. “I guess that means I have to
behave.”
Sam blinked, startled in a good way at Hunter’s
playfulness. “Kinky,” he teased. “Doing naughty
things at work.”
“That was the idea,” Hunter replied, bouncing his
eyebrows.
Sam toyed with Hunter’s tie, then quit fighting
his own desires. He walked to the front of the store
with the weight of Hunter’s hungry gaze burning
into him and locked the door, flipping the Be Right
Back sign. Returning, he clasped the teasing length

of blue silk in a fist and tugged gently. Hunter
followed.
He guided Hunter to the narrow hallway where
the small office, storeroom and restroom were and
pushed Hunter against the wall, out of sight. “God,
you’re unbelievable,” Sam told him, reaching for his
lips as hungrily as his hands dug for the slim belt in
his suit slacks. Hunter’s hands lingered on Sam’s
shoulders, his thumbs caressing in slow circles.
Sam gasped when he tore away from Hunter’s
devilish mouth. Spontaneity had always turned Sam
on. He was going to combust as hot as he was to
touch Hunter. Finally dropping Hunter’s zipper, he
cupped the ridge of his erection. Hunter’s eyes
dropped to half mast, their dark blue sizzling with
an inner, scorching heat.
Hunter’s head sank to the wall, his knees locked
as Sam swallowed the tip of his cock. Drops hit his
tongue. He whined for more of the tangy elixir.
Bracing his hands on the wall, he licked and sucked,
hearing Hunter’s breathing deepen to a harsh
panting.
“Yesss, Sam. S’ good.” He wound fingers into

Sam’s hair and gripped. Sam moaned.
On his knees now, he yanked open his jeans and
jerked out his own aching shaft, stroking it with
hard pulls as Hunter commanded his mouth,
thrusting fully, fucking him wildly. He wasn’t going
to last. It was rushed, dirty, and it was driving him
insane. The scent of arousal and skin, semen and sex
sent him over the edge.
Hunter cried out, his fingers flexing against Sam’s
scalp seconds before the thick hunk in Sam’s mouth
began to pulse, throbbing to shoot to the back of
his throat. “Fuck,” Hunter moaned, dragging in air
in rasping draughts.
Sam swallowed, gulping each spurt. Mouthing
Hunter gently to lick and clean when he was done,
Sam whipped his hand up and down his dick,
cupping the end with his other hand. He cried out
as heat eclipsed his thinking and fire roared up his
spine. He caught most of it in his cupped palm,
twisting his fist to work the last few jets until he was
breathless.
“Fuck me,” Hunter groaned. He leaned against
the wall now as though he had no strength left. Sam

was pretty sure he didn’t have any to spare. Licking
one last time over the treat between his lips, Sam let
him slip free, sagging away a bit to let Hunter
straighten his clothes and dress.
“Come here, babe,” Hunter encouraged, finding
his free arm with tender strength to help bring Sam
to unsteady feet. Dazedly, he snagged his jeans and
stumbled for the bathroom to wash up and readjust
things. His world was still spinning.
“Wow,” Hunter whispered close to his ear,
leaning near his shoulder. He inched closer,
dropping a loving kiss beneath his earlobe. “Love
you, Samuel.” He nudged Sam with his nose to the
same spot and Sam twitched and laughed, giggled
really, sensitive apparently to the slight touch.
Clean and dried off, he faced the man in the suit.
“Love you until my last breath, Hunter.” He wound
his arms over Hunter’s neck and brought them
together, sharing a kiss that was as sweet and
languid as their moment of passion had been wild
and uninhibited.
It was still early in their relationship, but Sam had
high hopes. With Hunter’s formidable hold around

his body, he felt secure in a way he’d never dreamed.
Hunter was finding his way, coming to grips with all
the changes he’d faced the last few months. Sam
knew what he felt was real, so even if this ended in
disaster, he was in it for the long haul. He had faith
that he wasn’t wrong in believing in Hunter, or in
what they shared. He’d found everything he’d ever
wanted or needed sitting across the bar from him in
Aruba. Hunter had made the decision to find him,
had come to Sam. He knew he wasn’t wrong about
Hunter. Sam was madly in love with the guy. How
could that ever be wrong?
Sam played with the blond strands that danced
against his suit collar. “Better get back out front.”
He licked his lips, feeling their puffy sensitivity. It
couldn’t be helped. He was going to look like he’d
had the daylights kissed out of him. At least, for a
little while. He honestly didn’t mind.
“Yeah,” Hunter agreed. “Someone might wonder
why the store is closed in the middle of the day.” He
swallowed, his breathing finally evening out.
Threading a palm upward, Sam guided Hunter
closer. “What’s five more minutes? I need a kiss

break.”
Hunter chuckled, humor glinting in his eyes. But
he didn’t argue the suggestion when Sam closed the
gap between them.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DIANA DERICCI is the sexy, flirty pen name of

Diana Castilleja. A romance author at heart,
DeRicci’s writing takes you into a saucier spectrum
of sensuality and sexual adventure, where a happily-
ever-after is still the key to any story. Diana lives in
Central Texas with her husband, one son and a
feisty little Chihuahua named Rascal. You can catch
the latest news on all of Diana DeRicci’s writing and
books on her website. Feel free to drop Diana an
email. She’d love to hear from you.
Visit Diana on the internet at: http://
www.DianaDeRicci.com

TRADEMARKS ACKNOWLEDGMENT

The author acknowledges the trademark status and
trademark owners of the following wordmarks
mentioned in this work of fiction:
Aquaman: DC Comics Warner Communications,
Inc.
Frisbee: Wham-O, Inc.
Hallmark: Hallmark Licensing LLC
Jaws: Peter Benchley, Universal Pictures, and
Zanuck/Brown Productions
Viagra: Pfizer Inc.
WWE: World Wrestling Entertainment, Inc.

MLR PRESS AUTHORS

Featuring a roll call of some of the best writers of

gay erotica and mysteries today!
Derek Adams
Z. Allora
Maura Anderson
Simone Anderson
Victor J. Banis
Laura Baumbach
Helen Beattie
Ally Blue
J.P. Bowie
Barry Brennessel
Nowell Briscoe
Jade Buchanan
James Buchanan
TA Chase
Charlie Cochrane
Karenna Colcroft
Michael G. Cornelius
Jamie Craig

Ethan Day
Diana DeRicci
Vivien Dean
Taylor V. Donovan
Theo Fenraven
S.J. Frost
Kimberly Gardner
Kaje Harper
Alex Ironrod
DC Juris
AC Katt
Thomas Kearnes
Sasha Keegan
Kiernan Kelly
K-lee Klein
Geoffrey Knight
Christopher Koehler
Matthew Lang
J.L. Langley
Vincent Lardo
Cameron Lawton
Anna Lee

Elizabeth Lister
Clare London
William Maltese
Z.A. Maxfield
Timothy McGivney
Tere Michaels
AKM Miles
Robert Moore
Reiko Morgan
Jet Mykles
William Neale
N.J. Nielsen
Cherie Noel
Gregory L. Norris
Willa Okati
Erica Pike
Neil S. Plakcy
Rick R. Reed
A.M. Riley
AJ Rose
Rob Rosen
George Seaton

Riley Shane
Jardonn Smith
DH Starr
Richard Stevenson
Christopher Stone
Liz Strange
Marshall Thornton
Lex Valentine
Haley Walsh
Mia Watts
Lynley Wayne
Missy Welsh
Ryal Woods
Stevie Woods
Lance Zarimba
Mark Zubro

Check out titles, both available and forthcoming, at

www.mlrpress.com

GLBT RESOURCES

RAINBOW ROMANCE WRITERS

Raising the Bar for LGBT Romance

RRW offers support and advocacy to career-
focused authors, expanding the horizons of
romance. Changing minds, one heart at a time.
www.rainbowromancewriters.com
THE TREVOR PROJECT

The Trevor Project operates the only nationwide,

around-the-clock crisis and suicide prevention
helpline for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and
questioning youth. Every day, The Trevor Project
saves lives though its free and confidential helpline,
its website and its educational services. If you or a
friend are feeling lost, alone, confused or in crisis,
please call The Trevor Helpline. You’ll be able to
speak confidentially with a trained counselor 24/7.
The Trevor Helpline: 866-488-7386
On the Web: http://www.thetrevorproject.org/
THE GAY MEN’S DOMESTIC VIOLENCE
PROJECT

Founded in 1994, The Gay Men’s Domestic

Violence Project is a grassroots, non-profit
organization founded by a gay male survivor of
domestic violence and developed through the
strength, contributions and participation of the
community. The Gay Men’s Domestic Violence
Project supports victims and survivors through
education,

advocacy

and

direct

services.

Understanding that the serious public health issue
of domestic violence is not gender specific, we serve
men in relationships with men, regardless of how
they identify, and stand ready to assist them in
navigating through abusive relationships.
GMDVP Helpline: 800.832.1901
On the Web: http://gmdvp.org/
THE GAY & LESBIAN ALLIANCE
AGAINST

DEFAMATION/GLAAD

EN

ESPAÑOL

The Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation

(GLAAD) is dedicated to promoting and ensuring
fair, accurate and inclusive representation of people
and events in the media as a means of eliminating
homophobia and discrimination based on gender
identity and sexual orientation.

On the Web: http://www.glaad.org/
GLAAD

en

español:

http://www.glaad.org/espanol/bienvenido.php
SERVICEMEMBERS LEGAL DEFENSE
NETWORK

Servicemembers Legal Defense Network is a

nonpartisan, nonprofit, legal services, watchdog and
policy

organization

dedicated

to

ending

discrimination against and harassment of military
personnel affected by “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”
(DADT).The SLDN provides free, confidential legal
services to all those impacted by DADT and related
discrimination. Since 1993, its inhouse legal team
has responded to more than 9,000 requests for
assistance. In Congress, it leads the fight to repeal
DADT and replace it with a law that ensures equal
treatment for every servicemember, regardless of
sexual orientation. In the courts, it works to
challenge the constitutionality of DADT.
SLDN Call: 800-538-7418
PO Box 65301 or (202) 328-FAIR
Washington

DC

20035-5301

e-mail:

[e-mail]
On the Web: http://sldn.org/
THE GLBT NATIONAL HELP CENTER

The GLBT National Help Center is a nonprofit,

tax-exempt organization that is dedicated to
meeting the needs of the gay, lesbian, bisexual and
transgender community and those questioning their
sexual orientation and gender identity. It is an
outgrowth of the Gay & Lesbian National Hotline,
which began in 1996 and now is a primary program
of The GLBT National Help Center. It offers
several different programs including two national
hotlines that help members of the GLBT
community talk about the important issues that they
are facing in their lives. It helps end the isolation
that many people feel, by providing a safe
environment on the phone or via the internet to
discuss issues that people can’t talk about anywhere
else. The GLBT National Help Center also helps
other organizations build the infrastructure they
need to provide strong support to our community
at the local level.
National Hotline: 1-888-THE-GLNH (1-888-843-

4564)
National Youth Talkline 1-800-246-PRIDE (1-
800-246-7743)
On the Web: http://www.glnh.org/
e-mail: [e-mail]
If you’re a GLBT and questioning student
heading off to university, you should know that
there are resources on campus for you. Here’s just a
sample:
GLBT SCHOLARSHIP RESOURCES

http://www.hrc.org/resources/entry/tell-us-

about-an-lgbt-scholarship
Syracuse University
http://lgbt.syr.edu/
Texas A&M
http://glbt.tamu.edu/
Tulane University
http://tulane.edu/studentaffairs/oma/lgbt/index.cfm
University

of

Alaska

http://www.uaf.edu/woodcenter/leadership/organizations/active/index.xml?
id=61

University of California, Davis
http://lgbtrc.ucdavis.edu/
University of California, San Francisco
http://lgbt.ucsf.edu/
University of Colorado
http://www.colorado.edu/GLBTQRC/
University of Florida
http://www.multicultural.ufl.edu/lgbt/
University of Hawaii, Mānoa
http://manoa.hawaii.edu/lgbt/
University of Utah
http://www.sa.utah.edu/lgbt/
University of Virginia
http://www.virginia.edu/deanofstudents/lgbt/
Vanderbilt University
http://www.vanderbilt.edu/lgbtqi/