Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 1

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays

Copyright © 2010 by TC Blue

All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used
or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission except in case of brief quotations embodied
in critical articles or reviews. For information address
Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX
78680

Cover illustration copyright Alessia Brio
Used with permission

ISBN: 978-1-1-61040-061-9

Printed in the United States of America.

Torquere Press, Inc.: High Ball electronic edition /
September 2010

Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press,
Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 2

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays

By TC Blue

Chapter One

Troy Ballard was smiling, which wasn't exactly a shock.
He usually smiled, especially on his regular Margarita
Monday nights. His friends were smiling, too, which
again? Not so surprising. Good food, great Margaritas --
even if Troy did say so himself -- and music that ranged
from the early eighties right through to the latest releases
being heard on the radio, and what was there not to
smile about?

Hell, even Evan and Gray were there, though they'd be
leaving soon to head for Evan's big old townhouse. They
had an early flight back to Montana in the morning, after
all, and that was fine. It was really great that the two
men had even taken the time to visit, and even better to
see that Evan was happy. God, Troy had been worried
about that, especially with Gray, Evan's new love, being
the nephew of Bill, Evan's late love.

But that was a whole other story, Troy reminded
himself. Evvy was happy, and judging by the look on
Gray's face every time the man looked at Evan, things
were going just fine. In the meantime, well, Troy had a
party to host, didn't he?

"Enough with the disco," he called across the room,
earning a grin from Roger and Brandt, who'd taken over
the playlist fifteen or so minutes earlier. Troy was
teasing, of course, because it wasn't actually disco, as
such, but more what had once been called New Wave.
Flock of Seagulls, Kajagoogoo, Thompson Twins even,

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 3

and there was nothing wrong with that, but Troy's
Mondays were all about variety. He did tend to cut
Roger and Brandt a little slack, though, mostly because
it was so good to see Brandt doing well again. The man's
T-cells had been all over the place for the last few
weeks, and if he was feeling well enough to come to a
Margarita Monday, then yeah. Troy wasn't going to be a
hard-ass about the music. Much. "Three more songs and
then you two are off the iPod for at least half an hour,"
he added as he passed the men in question. "I mean it."

Roger and Brandt laughed, likely in response to the
teasing grin Troy knew was on his own face, but that
was fine. More than fine. It meant his friends were
having a good time, and that was pretty much the point.
Not just with regards to Roger and Brandt, but the other
twenty or so guys and the few gals who'd attended.

Just a few minutes later, Troy had reached the kitchen,
thank God, because while he truly did love having his
place full of people, he also loved the small breaks he
got every time he mixed up another pitcher of his
favorite drink. It was his own secret recipe, and while
Troy wasn't really the type to sit back and Lord it over
everyone, he'd be damned if he was going to share the
secret. He'd discovered it by accident one day while
bartending during his last year of college, and as such,
even Julian didn't know the exact ingredients.

They'd been broken up by then, and even after Troy's
heart had healed and they'd been able to become friends
again, of a sort, he wasn't sharing. Hell, he hadn't even
told Evvy, and God knew if Troy hadn't told Evan, he
was for damned sure not about to tell anyone else. Or
show them, which was exactly why Troy's arrival in the

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 4

kitchen resulted in an immediate mass exodus, those
who'd been lingering there leaving quickly, though
temporarily. That wasn't precisely necessary because
Troy had long since realized that it was far easier to mix
the drinks up in large batches and simply transfer the
liquid from the gallon jugs that had formerly held water,
right into the gorgeous glass pitchers he favored. Add
tequila, triple sec and ice, stir, and it was done. If he'd
told anyone, though, he would have had to forfeit his
few minutes of peace, which was exactly why Troy had
stayed mum.

Task accomplished, Troy leaned against the kitchen
counter and smiled, letting his eyes close as he took a
few deep breaths. He loved having his friends over once
a week, but yeah. The small moments of breathing room
were good, too. They allowed him to process things over
the course of the evening, and that was more than
desirable. The small bit of downtime definitely helped
him to be a good host.

He stood there for a minute or two, hands on the edge of
the counter, then opened his eyes and straightened up.
"Okay," Troy told himself out loud, his voice clear even
with the ambient noise from outside the kitchen, "I'm
thinking I'll put Richard in charge of the music next.
That'll be a nice change." He smiled to himself.

Richard had very diverse musical tastes. And Troy hated
to admit it, but he actually liked Richard. Even though
Richard was the one Julian had been cheating on Troy
with back in college, Troy couldn't deny that he liked
the man. He liked Richard more than Julian, some days.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 5

Troy smiled, wide and easy, and fixed the muscles in his
face to hold the expression as he picked up the full glass
pitcher and headed back out of the kitchen. "It's safe
now," he announced to the people waiting outside the
door. "My magnificent, magical Margarita
manufacturing is masterfully managed. For now, at
least!"

"Way to alliterate," someone said on their way past --
probably Toni because it was a female voice and Toni's
girlfriend tended to be shy about speaking up due to the
stutter Troy found so charming -- and Troy laughed but
continued on. He wasn't entirely clear on the appeal of
hanging around in the kitchen at a party, but he was old
enough to accept that some people were kitchen-lurkers
while others preferred sitting on a couch and still others
liked to wander, or even dance. To each his or her own,
Troy figured.

He made the rounds -- living room, dining room,
kitchen, pointing Richard toward the iPod station as he
passed -- refilling glasses and making sure the platters of
snacks were in good shape. Finally, Troy grinned and
set the still half-full pitcher down near the nibbles. His
friends were drinkers, yes, but not like they were when
they went out to bars and such. Troy could spend the
next half hour or so just relaxing before he'd need to
refresh the latest batch of Margaritas. Which reminded
him, he needed a drink of his own.

He frowned for a moment, trying to remember where
he'd left his glass, but he was drawing a blank right up
until a slightly pale, long-fingered hand appeared in
front of him, holding the green and red swirled glass
everyone knew was Troy's.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 6

"I bet you're looking for this, right about now," Evan
said with a teasing grin and Troy laughed as he took the
smooth, cool tumbler from Evvy's hand.

"Oh, Evvy," Troy answered easily, "you have no idea.
Have I mentioned that you're a god amongst men?
Because you are." He poured himself some lime-
ambrosia and took a long, slow sip. "Ah... yes. That's
just about perfect, honey. So, how are you doing?
With... you know. Everything."

Evan smiled and it was a real, true, deep-down smile,
which convinced Troy more than any mere words ever
would that Evan was fine. "I'm good," Evan said softly,
his gaze darting past Troy. Then those soft brown eyes
lit up even more and Troy knew Evan was looking at
Gray. "I really am, Troy. I. Thanks, okay? For..."

Troy snorted and took another swallow from his glass.
"For telling you Bill would want you to be happy? You
already knew that, Evvy. You just needed to hear it from
someone who wasn't you. And I'm glad you're happy.
You deserve it. More than some."

And okay, maybe he was still a little bitter about Julian
and Richard, which was just insane after close to ten
years. Hell, Troy even knew it was insane, but he'd
trusted Julian and it hadn't gone well. Even with Julian
knowing all his secrets, everything had turned out all...
fucked up. And granted, Julian had never spilled those
secrets, which Troy knew was part of the reason they
were still friends, but betrayal in one area wasn't entirely
countered by trust in another, was it?

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 7

"You deserve it, too," Evan said, the insistent tone of
voice cutting through Troy's thoughts. "Seriously, Troy.
You deserve to find someone and be happy. Be in love.
I... I think I feel guilty that I've found that twice when
you're so amazing and--"

"Oh, shut up!" Troy couldn't help laughing, even as he
slapped Evvy's shoulder with his free hand. "It's a party,
honey, so stop with all the 'seriously' stuff, okay? Go
kiss that cowboy studmuffin of yours, and maybe have a
dance before you head on home. Or, does your honey
even know how to dance anything other than a two-
step?" He winked. "I'm not sure there's enough room for
that, what with all the people."

Evan laughed, and the deeper laugh coming from nearby
told Troy that Gray was close enough to have heard that
last. "Well?" Troy demanded playfully as he turned to
face the Montana rancher. "Do you? Because Evvy
looks like he could use a... what's the phrase again? Oh,
right! A 'turn around the floor,' isn't it?"

Gray chuckled and his eyes skated right away from
Troy's to find Evan's, which was good and right and just
as it should be, and had Troy feeling more than a little
bit envious. "Sad to say, Troy, if I tried to do a bit of
dancin' with Evan right now, chances are we'd end up
givin' a whole other kind of floor show. I'm not sure
Sissy'd be thrilled with havin' to fly out here to bail us
out, if word got around. Might be best if we just headed
on out, y'know? It's gettin' close on to eleven."

Well, that was clear enough, especially considering the
way both Evan and Gray were blushing. Troy
deliberately didn't let his gaze drift below their waists,

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 8

even when Gray moved close enough to wrap an arm
around Evan's shoulders and Evan matched the motion
with an arm around Gray's back. Still, Troy sighed.

"You probably should," Troy admitted reluctantly. "Go,
I mean. But next time you guys are in town, I expect
much more hanging out. Now that you've stolen my best
friend," he said, giving Gray a playful glare, "I don't
have anyone to watch my imported Ultimate Cage
Match DVDs with. And honestly? It's just not as much
fun on my own. I need a partner to root for the opposing
team!"

Evan and Gray both laughed. "Bring them when you
come visit," Evvy suggested, and Gray nodded, echoing
the idea. "Sara's just the kind of girl to join in, too.
Assuming she's not too busy with her boyfriend." Evan
smirked while Gray grumbled and Troy felt even more
out of touch, all of a sudden.

"You can't go callin' a grown man my baby sister's
boyfriend," he heard Gray mutter, but Evan was
obviously ignoring Gray's words.

"Seriously, Troy," Evan went on, "I want you to come
visit, okay? Maybe in the summer. August is slow for
you, right?"

True enough, really. There weren't that many people in
Hartford who redecorated in August, and that meant
Troy's services were in low demand, that time of year.
Decorating slacked off after wedding-season, what with
most people being away on vacation and such, so Evan
was right. August? Not generally booked solid in
Hartford.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 9

"I'll let you know," Troy said simply, his voice rising as
a louder song came on. "I'm not really sure I'm the ranch
type."

Gray laughed. "That's what Evan said, too, but it turns
out he was wrong." The man actually winked and Troy
rolled his eyes.

"True," Troy answered as he walked his friend and his
friend's honey to the front door. "But I'm willing to bet a
good part of his turning into the 'ranch type' has to do
with a certain guy he's in love with. I have a feeling I'm
better off sticking with the five-star-hotel world I'm so
wonderfully accustomed to. Though that doesn't rule out
a visit, of course." The last was something Troy added
hastily, when Evan's eyebrows drew down. "Promise me
you'll never ask me to be anywhere nearby when you...
God. Harvest the bulls. Please. Because, yeah, that's oh-
my-God horrendous." He grinned, but he actually meant
it. Hearing about the way Gray and the ranch hands
acquired bull semen, even once, had been more than
enough.

Moments later, he was saying goodbye for real, with a
tight hug and whispered thanks from Gray and a small,
chaste kiss on the lips from Evvy.

Troy closed the door slowly, wondering whether he'd
ever really go to Montana. Then he heard something
shatter behind him and forgot about it.

"Oh, my God! What did you crazy hooligans do this
time? That better not have been any of my glass-art!"
Troy bustled back into the living room then breathed a

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 10

huge sigh of relief at seeing that it had only been the
rectangular slab of glass that had acted as a top to the
coffee table. It still sucked, but it was just a piece of
glass and was much easier to replace than any of the one
of a kind glass sculptures Troy collected.

Unfortunately, it had broken because Julian had
somehow managed to land on it, ass first, in such a way
that the glass had, well, not shattered, exactly, but
splintered into large pieces, one of which had obviously
cut into Julian's leg, judging by the way the man was
screaming.

Screaming and bleeding, Troy saw when he pushed
through a few people and looked.

There wasn't much blood. Certainly not enough to
account for the shrill, high-pitched shriek coming from
Julian's mouth, and Troy was pretty sure that if it hadn't
been for that overly dramatic reaction, the party would
have gone on. As it was, several people were trying to
help Julian up while the rest were rolling their eyes and
setting their drinks down. Troy caught a few goodbyes
from the auditory equivalent of the corners of his eyes
and nodded when people asked about the next Monday.
The mass exodus didn't take long, sadly; then Troy
helped Richard calm Julian and started collecting the
long shards of glass.

He hissed roughly when his careful grip wasn't careful
enough and the edge of one piece sliced his palm.
Fortunately, Richard had Julian in the kitchen by then
and Troy had zero interest in joining them, what with
Julian's whining voice crying out "it hurts... it hurts,

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 11

Richard, get it out of me now, it hurts, I can't stand it,
you can't treat me like this, get it out of me!"

Troy rolled his eyes and snorted as he pulled his shirt off
and wrapped it around his bleeding hand. Which was, of
course, when the loud knocking started on the front
door. It was amazing that he could hear it, what with the
music still playing and Julian being such a wuss.

"God, hold on!" Troy called as he made his way
carefully past and over the shards of glass that still
littered the living room carpet. "I'm coming, okay?"

"Get it out of me, it hurts! I'm bleeding! Stop it!" Julian
shrieked from the kitchen, and apparently it pierced
more than just Troy's eardrums because the next thing
he knew, his front door was flying wide and there was a
man rushing inside.

"What the--" Troy managed before the man slammed
into him, knocking him to the floor and somehow
turning him over, dragging Troy's wrists behind him all
in what seemed like one smooth motion. "What the fuck
are you doing! Oh, my God!"

He barely saw other feet running past, crushing the glass
shards into small fragments that Troy knew he'd never
get out of the rug. Then a truly loud commotion started
in the kitchen, even while what felt like a forearm
pressed onto Troy's back, and Troy wasn't the sort to
pass out, but blackness rose before his eyes and when it
tried to swallow him, he let it. Even with the what the
fuck? still echoing in his head, he didn't fight the
darkness.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 12

Chapter Two

"Talk to me, Riley," Jeremy Nelson called out from his
position atop the man he'd pinned. "What's..." His words
faded at the sound of his partner, Riley's, muffled
laughter and the renewed shrieks, though the screams
sounded more pissed off than desperate, all of a sudden.

"Oh, man," Riley answered, his voice louder, and then
the man was right there in front of Jeremy and the man
he'd pinned. The surprisingly motionless pinned man.
"You're not gonna believe this. For real, man. There's
some dude in the kitchen with glass in his ass, and some
other dude trying to get it out. Glass-ass's friend says
they don't need an ambulance, though."

Oh, fuck. The thought repeated itself over and over again
in Jeremy's head. Not just oh, fuck, either, but oh,
fucking fuckity fuck-fuck-fuck. Bad enough that both he
and Riley had misread the situation so badly, but now
Riley was laughing about it, right there in front of the
guy Jeremy had more or less tackled. And even though
Jeremy knew Riley's reaction to relief was to sound like
a jackass rather than a private security officer, the poor
guy on the floor wouldn't know that. Fuck.

Jeremy glared at his partner, even while he levered
himself up quickly, releasing slender wrists and
dragging his restraining arm away from the man's upper
back. He stood, frowning, and braced himself for the
angry discourse he fully expected, not that he could have
done things any differently. They'd responded to a
standard noise complaint, yes, but screams coming from
inside, begging someone to stop, get it out of me, you're

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 13

hurting me, stop? Well, yeah. That had called for action,
and damned if he hadn't taken it, Riley right on his
heels. Now, though, Jeremy figured he was screwed.

Reasonable cause or not, considering the facts of the
matter as Riley had just related them? Unnecessary force
wasn't entirely outside the realms of possibility,
assuming the man on the floor decided to press charges.
Plus, Jeremy reminded himself, he wasn't actually a cop.
Neither of them were.

"Oh, man," Riley added, looking down at the guy
Jeremy had been holding down, "what did you do to
him? Jesus." And that was when Jeremy Nelson saw his
hoped for future teaching career going up in smoke
because the man wasn't moving.

Jeremy's heart raced as he knelt beside the man, one
hand going automatically to the blond's shoulder and he
heaved a small sigh of relief when he felt it rise and fall
on a breath. "Help me get him onto the couch," he
ordered, though he wasn't entirely sure he should move
the guy. He didn't think he'd done any real damage,
though. Sure, he'd taken the blond down, but not that
hard, and maybe... "I think he fainted or something."

Riley's brows were arched when Jeremy looked up, but
the man didn't say anything right away. He just bent and
took one of the limp man's shoulders and helped. "He's
heavier than he looks," Riley muttered once they'd
gotten the shirtless man on the nearest couch and Jeremy
nodded.

It was true. The blond man -- very blond, actually,
because now that the adrenaline rush was easing off,

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 14

Jeremy saw the guy's hair was nearly platinum -- was
solid, for all that he wasn't overly large. Jeremy
estimated him at around five feet nine or so, now that he
was remembering his first sight of the guy, which of
course had been after Jeremy himself had broken in.
Christ, though, even that didn't distract him from his
silent inventory.

Yeah, probably five-nine, give or take an inch or so.
And kind of hot, now that Jeremy was getting a good
look at that naked, hairless torso. Lightly tanned skin
that looked smooth and soft, tiny nipples a few shades
darker, muscles that somehow seemed sleek, even while
completely relaxed. Like the guy was friendly with the
gym but not locked into a long term, serious relationship
with it.

Those wrists weren't as slender as they'd felt, Jeremy
saw. Not heavy or thick by any means, but not knobby
and skinny, either. And nice hands, or at least the one
that didn't have cloth wrapped around it was nice. Long
fingers with buffed, manicured nails that should have
made the guy seem girly but didn't. And that face. Jesus,
the guy was... Jeremy didn't know how to describe it,
even to himself. Pretty wasn't right, but handsome didn't
work, either. Damned appealing, though. Attractive.

No facial hair to speak of, but if there'd been a party,
which Jeremy thought there had, judging by the detritus
he finally noticed lying about, the man had probably
shaved since morning. Sharp cheekbones and a narrow
but somehow still masculine jaw gave the man's face an
oddly appealing triangular cast that was only
emphasized by sharp, slashing eyebrows a good three
shades darker than that near-white hair, and his mouth...

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 15

Oh, God, that was the kind of ripe, full mouth, even in
repose, that Jeremy could easily picture doing all sorts
of things he shouldn't be thinking about right then, damn
it.

"Is he bleeding?" Riley asked and Jeremy startled a bit,
though he tried to hide it. "His hand. It looks like there's
blood on that cloth he's got."

Thank God his detailed assessment of the man hadn't
taken anything like as long as it had seemed to, because
while Riley knew Jeremy's usual bent, there was no
doubt that Riley would have said something. The man
took far too much pleasure in poking fun on the
occasion that he caught Jeremy checking out guys rather
than girls.

"I'll look. Why don't you see how the other guy's
doing?" Jeremy suggested. "You said there were two of
them, right? Him and someone helping? They should be
out here by now."

Riley groaned. "Seriously, man, don't you think that's
more your kind of thing than mine? I really don't want to
see naked man-butt again any time soon."

Jeremy narrowed his eyes and Riley sighed.

"Fine. Fine," Riley grumbled as he turned away and
started to retrace his earlier steps. "I'll go check on glass-
ass and his butt-buddy. Whatever."

Jeremy couldn't help the tiny chuckle that slipped from
his lips, regardless of how unprofessional it might be.
He also couldn't control the small gasp that left him

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 16

when he realized his chuckle was being echoed by the
guy on the couch.

"Hey. Hey," he said softly, relief flooding through him
at the fact that he hadn't done any real damage. He
hadn't thought he had, but it was damned good to know
for sure. "You're awake. Are you okay? I... look, sorry
about that, before. We got a noise complaint and then
your friend was screaming that he was being hurt and...
your hand. Is it? That cloth seems. You're hurt, right?"
And couch-guy opened his eyes. No, couch-guy opened
his green eyes and Jeremy lost track of what he'd been
saying, just like that, as something inside him seemed to
pause, then surge.

Green-eyes looked down at his cloth-wrapped hand, like
he was surprised, then frowned. "Well, so much for my
new shirt. Blood just doesn't come out of fabric the way
one would hope, does it? But it's not bad. My hand.
Just... scratch-like. Big scratch-like, but still." He
straightened a bit on the couch and groaned just loudly
enough that Jeremy winced.

"God, you pack one hell of a punch," the green eyed
man grumbled. "Or one hell of a 'knock you down and
keep you there,' anyway. God. That doesn't look like a
police uniform, though."

Fuck knew why, but Jeremy felt himself blushing, even
as he sat down and leaned closer, trying to get a better
look at those green eyes. "It's not. Safe Haven Security.
We patrol here and try to handle the small stuff, you
know? Like noise complaints." He blushed even more,
his cheeks fiery. "Look, I... well, like I said, we got here
and heard someone screaming, and I know we're not

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 17

supposed to be cops, but it really sounded like someone
was being hurt, so I guess I just..."

Green-eyes laughed, then winced a little. "Let me guess.
White Knight complex, right? You figured you'd burst
in and save the day? Or save Julian-the-drama-queen
from his honey Richard's tender attentions, more like.
And in the process, you ended up pounding me into the
floor in the not-so-fun way."

It actually took Jeremy a moment to work his way
through that, but when he did, he couldn't quite figure
out whether to laugh or blush even more. "Well, your
friend... Julian would be the one with the, uh, wounds,
right?" Green-eyes nodded. "Okay. So, to be fair, Julian
really did sound like he was going through something,
uh, bad."

"Traumatic, you mean," green-eyes murmured and
Jeremy nodded. "Now, there's a shocker. Julian can
make a hangnail sound like an extinction-level-event.
Especially when he's been drinking and Richard's within
a two block radius, which is approximately the distance
Julian's shrieks carry. Oh, I'm Troy, by the way. Troy
Ballard. I'd welcome you to my home, but I'm a little bit
pissed off at the moment, what with needing to replace
my front door. Someone seems to have broken it in."

If this was Troy Ballard pissed off, Jeremy couldn't
imagine how the man ever got anything done. Troy's
version of pissed off wasn't even close to as offensive as
some of the other local residents' mildly annoyed. Not
that Jeremy would ever say so because he'd learned his
lesson about gift horses and mouths.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 18

"I. Jeremy," he answered, speaking to the expectant look
in Troy Ballard's eyes. "Jeremy Nelson. And I really am
sorry about all this, Mr. Ballard. I'll... look, I'm off
tomorrow," he lied. "Let me come by and fix your door,
okay? I mean, it's not really the door, it's the jamb, and it
wouldn't take long at all to cut out the part I broke and
replace it. I could even cover the wood area with metal
plating, under the molding. That'd keep anyone else
from doing what I did, unless they put in a whole lot
more effort. Just, please, I-- could you not report it to
Safe Haven? I kind of need this job. Like, really badly."

That didn't even begin to describe how much he needed
to keep his job, but for some reason, Jeremy didn't want
Troy Ballard to know that. Hell, he didn't want anyone
to know, but the truth was, if he lost his security job, he
would have to go back to his family, hand out and
begging for assistance that would cost far more than
Jeremy was willing to pay.

Well, maybe not, but there really were certain things
Jeremy wasn't willing to do just to keep tuition and the
bills paid. And the security job was comfortable. The
hours worked with his studies, unlike his previous
construction job, and Jeremy couldn't imagine that his
time with Safe Haven would be anything but an asset
when he eventually finished his degree and got his
teaching credentials. Stripping or hustling, on the other
hand, or going to his uncle and having to give up his
dreams? Not so useful for the future he hoped to have,
which made one day of missed college classes a
worthwhile sacrifice.

One golden blond brow rose under that mop of platinum
hair and Troy Ballard's green eyes widened just a bit.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 19

"You know how to do all that? I mean the door jamb and
molding and stuff? And please, please, please, don't call
me 'Mr. Ballard,' okay? I'm only thirty, for God's sake!"

That was actually a couple years older than Jeremy had
figured, based upon looks. But then he'd added a good
five or six years, mentally, when the man had said it was
his house. But thirty was good. Only five years older
than Jeremy, which meant they probably had some
things in common, and... Oh, no. I am not thinking about
Troy Ballard like that! I'm not! Even if he is hot and
being so damned nice! Except Jeremy kind of was, even
without knowing if the man was single or not. The gay
seemed kind of a given, but the single? Fuck.

"I. Okay, Mr. I mean, Troy. And yeah, I can do that. It's
just wood and nails and plates and screws, right? So, if
that's okay, maybe you could, you know. Not report me
for breaking into you house and assaulting you and...
God, I'm just making it worse, aren't I?"

Apparently there was something about the serial-
blushing that amused Troy Ballard. At least, Jeremy
thought so, considering the way the man was laughing
again, those eyes that shifted between emerald and forest
green flashing. But the man's pupils were fine, both the
same size and dilated appropriately for the lighting in
the room, which was why Jeremy had sat and looked in
the first place. It wasn't exactly why he was still looking,
but that was a whole other thing and Jeremy wasn't
thinking about that. Was not.

"Actually, you're being kind of charming, in a way,"
Troy Ballard answered. "And I'm fine with your
suggestion, though I have some meetings in the

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 20

morning." He frowned. "I suppose I'll have to
reschedule, anyway. I'm not comfortable with leaving
my house unlocked while I'm out. Even in broad
daylight. And I'm not entirely sure that the alarm system
will work properly, what with the front door being less
than secure."

Fuck, Jeremy hadn't thought of that. Even worse than
someone wandering into the house while Troy Ballard
was out the next day, what if someone came in during
the night? Yes, Safe Haven Security patrolled the
neighborhood, but that was no guarantee that some
opportunistic thief -- or worse -- wouldn't slip inside
while the man was sleeping and... Jeremy didn't even
want to think about what someone might do when they
saw there was no alarm set and no lock holding the front
door closed and Troy Ballard was so... Fuck, so damned
appealing.

"Maybe you should stay with friends," Jeremy
suggested, but Troy Ballard snorted and even that was
attractive, damn it. "I mean, you could stay with friends
and I could stay here, on the couch, so if anyone tried to
do anything, I'd be here."

Another snort. "It's a sweet offer, Jeremy," the man said
and Jeremy couldn't help the small shiver that rushed
through him at the way Troy Ballard -- no, just Troy,
damn it -- said his name. "But," Troy went on, "I don't
see a gun anywhere on you and I seriously doubt that
uniform would really scare anyone off, no matter how
cute it is. I don't think one person alone here is a good
idea, considering."

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 21

Apparently it was Troy's turn to blush because even with
the light tan and the less than bright lighting, Jeremy
saw a small bit of pink rising in Troy's cheeks. He felt
his own lips twitch at the corners, curving up against his
will at the thought that Troy might find him as appealing
as he found Troy.

"I'm not hitting on you, by the way," Troy added, a sort
of wry, self-deprecating smile appearing. "I mean, I'm
gay, not stupid."

"No, it's..." Jeremy started to say he wouldn't mind it if
Troy did hit on him, but of course that was when Riley
came back, this time accompanied by two other men. It
wasn't hard to guess that the truly pretty one with the
tear-tracks still staining his face was the Julian Troy had
mentioned. Nor was it difficult to realize that the other
man, with the less showy attractiveness and serious
mien was Richard. It was very obvious that the two men
were together, as well, what with the way the slightly
older man was being so solicitous to the younger one.
Not to mention that the overblown limp the guy Riley
had referred to as glass-ass was using left little room for
misunderstanding.

"How's the ass?" Troy somehow managed to sound both
concerned and amused at the same time, which Jeremy
found fascinating.

"Oh, my God, it hurts!" And yeah, that was Julian, all
right. "Troy, I swear, it's--"

"Actually, I was talking to Richard," Troy interrupted
and Jeremy had all he could do not to laugh outright at
the outraged look on Julian's face and the look on

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 22

Richard's, as well, because the quieter man was
obviously trying to hold back laughter, too.

"It's a flesh wound," Richard, said simply. "Or a few
flesh wounds, to be more precise. But they're not deep
and they'll be fine once I get Julian home and... tend to
him." Richard smiled, even while his lover sputtered and
pouted. Good Lord, that Julian guy could pout like
nobody's business.

Riley's eyes were rolling when Jeremy looked at him,
but he was all business as he escorted the two men from
the house with an "I'll be right back, man."

"Uh, that was my partner, Riley," Jeremy said. "He's a
little... new at this." That was a lie, but so what? It was
easier than trying to explain about Riley's mouth.

Troy's brow rose again. "Well, it's a good thing he has
you to show him how to kick in doors and slam poor,
unsuspecting home owners to the ground before
immobilizing them. It's a valuable skill-set."

Fortunately, Jeremy saw the teasing gleam in Troy's
green eyes before he apologized again. He did see it,
though, so instead of getting defensive, he leaned back,
his eyes still on Troy's.

"It is," Jeremy stated. "It comes in handy sometimes."
He tried to stop there, but something inside him
demanded that he continue, and he already knew Troy
was gay, so worst case... well, Jeremy figured the worst
case would be Troy ignoring his words.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 23

"Of course, in Riley's case," he said, slowly and
deliberately, "he'd be much happier if the clients he
ended up tackling were female. I can't say that I share
the same bias." And if that didn't make it clear enough,
then Troy wasn't anywhere near as smart as he looked.

Obviously, those words did clarify things for Troy
because the man smiled slowly, his ripe, full lips
curving in a knowing sort of way. "Having seen him,
however briefly," Troy murmured, "I can't imagine any
of them objecting. And perhaps you should join your
partner, Jeremy. I need to take care of my cut and make
a few calls. I have enough room for at least five of my
friends to come back here and stay, after all, and to be
honest, that will have me feeling safe enough."

The words hit Jeremy like a fist in the gut, though he
managed to nod as though nothing was wrong. And
really, nothing was wrong, aside from the fact that
Jeremy had forgotten about the blood on the fabric
around Troy Ballard's hand.

Just because Troy Ballard had seemed to be flirting
earlier, it didn't make it so. And Jeremy worked for Safe
Haven Security. He'd broken into the Ballard house and
he should count himself lucky that the man wasn't going
to report him. And it shouldn't bother him that Troy
Ballard thought Riley was attractive, and yet, oh, it so,
so did.

"That's fine," Jeremy answered as he pushed himself
from the couch and looked down at Troy Ballard from
his own six feet of height. "If you're sure it's just a
scratch on your hand, I'll go join my partner, but we'll
wait out front until someone arrives to keep you

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 24

company. I'll also alert Safe Haven that your alarm is
offline for the night. I'd appreciate knowing what time is
good for tomorrow, though. I don't want to wake you or
anyone else when I come to fix the door."

Ballard's eyes narrowed just slightly, but then the man
shrugged. "My hand isn't serious. I would have called
for an ambulance, or at least a doctor, if it were. And
any time after ten should be fine for tomorrow," he
answered. "Just don't expect to see me, personally. If I'm
not in meetings, which I won't be, I'll be... busy."

The smile that accompanied the words was telling,
Jeremy decided. It spoke of plans involving Troy
Ballard and someone else. Probably one of the so-called
friends the man intended to call.

And that was fine, Jeremy told himself. That was great.
It meant he wouldn't have to see Troy Ballard in the
morning. It meant he'd be able to push aside the bizarre
and unwelcome attraction to the man. It meant... Troy
Ballard was a slut and definitely not the kind of person
Jeremy was looking for, no matter the near-instant and
overwhelming attraction.

"I won't disturb you," Jeremy agreed, a part of him
relaxing. "And I'll be sure to let your friends know I'm
here before I start doing anything that might startle
them. Thanks again for keeping this just between us."
And with that, Jeremy turned and walked to the front
door of Troy Ballard's house, opening it carefully and
closing it behind him with a gentle tug, rather than the
loud slam he would have preferred.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 25

He had no reason to slam the door, he reminded himself
as he joined Riley by their Safe Haven patrol car. No
reason at all. He'd only just met the unexpectedly
attractive owner of the Ballard house, after all, and even
if he liked the way that lean body and stunning face
looked, Jeremy knew he didn't have any claim on either.
He was just a security guard, and Troy Ballard was
whatever Troy was. Obviously good enough, successful
enough at whatever he did to own a house in this
newish, pricey area of Hartford.

Jeremy sat back, trying to relax against the driver's seat
of the Safe Haven Security car. He'd been dreaming
when he'd thought someone like Troy Ballard would
ever flirt with him. And dreaming even more when he'd
actually considered that they might date, God help him.

No, Troy Ballard wasn't looking for anyone, and even if
he were, it wouldn't be a security guard. Especially one
who didn't look like Riley, damn it. That much was
painfully clear to Jeremy.

"Someone's here," Riley said a short while later, and
Jeremy jumped just a bit at the silence being broken.
"Wait. Make that three someones. Dude, check it out.
Orgy at the Ballard place!" He laughed.

Jeremy forced himself to look at the front door of the
house, then nodded when he saw Troy welcome the new
arrivals. "Cool. We're way behind on our rounds now,
anyway."

He started the car and pulled away from the curb,
managing to make small, indeterminate mutters
whenever Riley paused in whatever he was saying.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 26

Jeremy wasn't really paying attention. He was too busy
wondering which of the three men they'd seen would be
sharing Troy Ballard's bed that night.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 27

Chapter Three

Troy's friends were horrified, of course. Not that the
security guards had broken the door, but that Troy hadn't
laid the groundwork for at least a fling, once they'd
heard about how hot the presumably gay one of the
guards was. Presumably being the operative word
because saying the other guard would be happier
tackling women while the first guard -- Jeremy Nelson,
Troy reminded himself -- was less gender-biased in that
regard, wasn't exactly a declaration.

Randy, Pauly and James didn't agree, but whatever.
Troy knew better than to even try, considering the fact
that Jeremy was so determined to keep what had
happened a secret from his bosses at Safe Haven
Security. The very last thing Troy wanted was to end up
coercing the man into, well, anything. Which was
exactly why Troy had sent the stunner on his way.

He'd appreciated Jeremy's offer to stay at the house
while Troy went elsewhere, but Troy knew himself
better than that. He wouldn't have felt comfortable with
a stranger all alone in his house, no matter how hot that
stranger might be.

So he would have stayed, as well, and just knowing that
tempting, uniform-clad male was on the couch would
have led to Troy checking on Jeremy and probably
making a move, and if Jeremy had accepted that move,
Troy would never be sure whether it was because the
guy was actually interested or was just trying to cover
his own ass.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 28

Troy allowed himself one slightly bitter chuckle at that
last thought while the coffee finished dripping into the
glass carafe of the coffee maker. Covering his ass was
appropriate in more than one way, after all, because
while Troy might not look like someone who liked to
top, the truth was, he did. Not all the time, granted, but
still. And Jeremy... well, someone tall and built like
that?

No, thanks, Troy told himself. He didn't exactly come
off as Butchy McButcherson, but there was no way he
was ever going to even try being involved with someone
who would automatically see themselves as more
dominant. And as Jeremy was a security guard, it
seemed a fair bet that the man liked to be in charge as
often as possible, both in and out of the bedroom. Like
on the floor, or the couch, or against a wall, or...

Troy sighed softly then pushed the thoughts from his
mind as Pauly and James wandered into the kitchen,
clearly drawn by the scent of fresh coffee in the air.
Randy followed a few minutes later, which wasn't
unexpected. Troy had known the threesome for years,
after all, and Randy always spent more time primping in
the morning.

"So, when do we get to meet lover-boy?" James asked
after a cup and a half of hot caffeine and Troy snorted.
Fortunately, he'd just swallowed.

"Mmm," Pauly added. "He sounds so... masterful. And
hot."

Troy truly couldn't control the rolling of his eyes right
then. God help him, but it was unavoidable.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 29

"Number one," Troy managed to say while he pulled an
assortment of fruit from the fridge and set it on the table
for his friends, "I just met Jeremy last night." He ignored
Randy's amused grunt. "Number two, I'm not interested
in him. He's like... I don't know how old, but he's still
too young for me. And number three, he's not that hot. I
mean, he's attractive. I can't say he's not. But he's so not
my type."

Thank God the guys believed him, Troy thought as he
poured himself another cup of coffee and then started a
new pot going. Because he'd been lying his ass off with
that last comment. Jeremy was exactly his type.
Physically, anyway.

A bit taller than Troy, Jeremy looked strong without
being bulky. Short hair that had seemed that shade
between blond and brown in the available light the night
before and would have looked better a bit longer, but
Troy figured Jeremy kept it trimmed for work. Eyes...
well, the lighting hadn't been great but Troy
remembered Jeremy's eyes as a sort of grayish shade
that had gleamed softly, and he was probably right about
that since Jeremy had been so close and staring so
intently at Troy's own eyes. The man's features weren't
regular enough to be model-pretty, but that wasn't
something that Troy found overly appealing, anyway.
The too-pretty men were usually too high maintenance.

Troy did like the angular nature of Jeremy's face,
though. The sharp nose, like a blade down the guy's
face. The rugged jaw with its small bit of stubble, and
straight brows that were somehow more expressive than
Troy would have thought.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 30

There wasn't a body on the face of the earth that could
make a polyester-blend uniform look good, but Jeremy
came damned close to pulling it off, Troy remembered.
Hell, Jeremy filled out the uniform very well even with
as crappy as the cut was.

It was due to tight muscles that were somehow sleek,
Troy was sure, and possibly due to the way Jeremy
carried himself. Unlike Jeremy's partner who was the
hetero version of a gym-queen if Troy had ever seen
one. One of those nice-to-look-at-but-wouldn't-want-to-
go-there types that Troy -- and just about every other
gay man on the planet -- admired from afar.

"So when do we get to meet him?" James asked again,
pulling Troy from his thoughts. "Or, more to the point,
when do we get to ogle him? Because we're not looking
for a fourth but there's nothing in the bylaws that says
we can't look."

Well, that was true enough, so Troy laughed. "He should
be by around noon," he said, and he didn't even know
why he was lying until he heard his friends' disappointed
rumbles. He didn't want them to meet Jeremy. Didn't
want them to even see Jeremy. And if he'd told them ten
o'clock, they'd likely have called in late for their jobs.

Huh. It was unexpected that he wanted to keep his
friends away from Jeremy. It didn't even make any
sense, since he'd already decided to keep his distance.
And yet, Troy went ahead with it, offering more coffee
and hugs as his friends left, just an hour or so before
Jeremy was due to appear.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 31

On some level Troy knew Randy, Paul and James were
already going to be late for work, and while he
appreciated their willingness, he also wanted them gone.

"And what the fuck is wrong with me that I don't want
Jeremy for myself but I don't want any of my friends to
have him, either?" Troy asked himself out loud, the hand
that wasn't holding his coffee mug sliding under the
waistband of the cotton pajama pants he wore.

It was a puzzle, Troy admitted silently, even as he
stroked himself lightly and sipped more of the light and
sweet nectar he hoped would get him thinking clearly.

"Uh." The voice was unexpected, and it had Troy
jumping enough that he spilled his coffee, though the
hand on his cock just clenched in a way that was far too
good. "I guess I'm early," Jeremy added and Troy knew
he was blushing, but fuck it, he was about a second
away from coming, too. Just from Jeremy's voice.

"I. Yeah. A little." Troy forced his own hand to stop,
somehow. "Sorry. It's only..." A glance at the clock on
the wall told him he'd been standing in his front hallway
for a good twenty minutes after saying goodbye to his
friends. Shit! "But nine thirty is close enough to ten and
I'll just... well, okay. Um, I'll be back."

Troy turned quickly, with every intention of making a
hasty retreat to his bedroom, where he could take care of
the erection he'd started himself. God, let Jeremy not be
freaked out or think I was coming on to him, Troy
pleaded silently, and he was pretty sure his pseudo-
prayer had worked because Jeremy didn't say anything
right at first.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 32

Then, "Okay," Troy heard, and that was even better,
right up until a big hand closed on his shoulder and spun
him around.

"Okay," Jeremy said again, and Troy couldn't quite
manage to drag his eyes from the dark gray stare that
met his gaze. "Tell me that's not because of me. Because
I know this is really unprofessional, but if it is... fuck,
even Riley saw the chemistry, man. And that's saying a
lot. So if you're, you know... hard... because of me, I
want to know, okay?"

God. The words alone told Troy that he'd been right.
Jeremy was definitely the dominant sort. No other type
would have just come out with it like that, damn it. It
was a little bit depressing, if Troy were being honest.
And he was definitely being honest, at least with
himself, because even while he was staring into Jeremy's
pretty eyes, he was thinking I'm hard because of you but
I can't be what you want. The words that came from his
mouth were different though.

"You're early," Troy heard himself saying. "You weren't
supposed to be here for another half hour. And my cock
is my own business. Unless you're planning on taking
care of it for me. I could let it be your business if that's
what you're thinking."

Oh, fuck. What the hell had he just said?

Whatever it was, even with as demanding and wrong as
it had been, fuck if Jeremy's eyes didn't go wide for just
a second, then narrow again. Jeremy's mouth did the
same, then the tip of the man's pink tongue slipped out,

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 33

slick and shining, wetting those lips, and Troy moaned,
entirely against his will.

"Let me fix your front door," Jeremy whispered. "After
that, we can lock it and figure out what we want to do
about your... this."

One big, warm hand fastened over Troy's groin,
Jeremy's fingers nearly scalding-hot through the cotton.

"I want to... God," Jeremy added and Troy shuddered.
"And I don't usually do this but I kind of like you and I
feel bad about last night, so after the door, maybe you'll
let me make it up to you."

Troy swallowed hard, throat working convulsively as he
nodded. "I. Yeah. That's. Yeah. Okay. I'll just go and.
Yeah. Okay. Uh, okay."

***

Jeremy didn't have a single fucking clue about what had
possessed him. Hell, he should have just gone back
outside when he'd seen Troy standing in the entryway in
an obviously aroused state. Especially when he'd
realized Troy hadn't even noticed him. In fact, that had
been the plan. Ease away from the door, go outside and
maybe... Jeremy didn't know what. Make a lot of noise
coming up the front walk, or something.

"And God, did I just offer to? Jesus, what the fuck is
wrong with me?" He murmured the words to himself,
even as he adjusted his own half-hard cock in his jeans.
"I don't even know the guy. He could be, like, a serial

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 34

killer or something, and I just told him I wanted to...
Jesus Christ. He must think I'm the world's biggest slut."

Of course, the chances of Troy Ballard being any sort of
killer, serial or not, were pretty damned slim, but fuck if
Jeremy cared, either way. And he really did want to feel
Troy... in his mouth, at the very least, even though
Jeremy wasn't fond of the taste of latex. But he couldn't
do it, no matter what he'd said.

"Oh, this is fantastic," he grumbled, heading out to his
car to gather tool box, measuring tape and a plane. "I'm
about to go from world's biggest slut to world's biggest
tease. Christ, he's gonna think I'm bi-polar or something.
Or at least unable to make up my mind."

And that was fair enough, really, Jeremy admitted,
though silently this time. He didn't go in for one night
stands anymore. He'd had his fill of them between
sixteen-with-a-fake-I.D and twenty-two or so. Sure, sex
was fun, or should be, but Jeremy figured it needed to be
more than just that. For him, anyway. Which had
nothing to do with fixing Troy Ballard's door, damn it,
so he needed to focus.

It wasn't a difficult procedure, really. Just time
consuming. His former work in construction had more
than prepared Jeremy for a small fix like the one he was
performing.

Newspapers from that morning spread out to protect the
floor. Hammer claw to pry away the broken molding on
the inside of the door. Cordless jig-saw that cut around
the broken wood. Jeremy's measuring tape came out,
taking dimensions of the area to be replaced, then out to

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 35

the car again for a bit of scrap wood from the latest of
his weekend projects at his own home.

Cutting the wood, then drilling the appropriate opening
for the tongue of the existing lock took a few minutes,
but that was fine, Jeremy knew. He'd be damned if he
was going to do anything but his best work. Hell, he
would do that even if the damage wasn't his fault. He
barely noticed it when music started to play, some sort
of instrumental jazz thing, it sounded like, but it finally
registered when Jeremy's neck tightened under the
feeling of being watched.

"Uh, hey," he said, turning quickly on his knees. "Good
tunes." His eyes widened just a bit at seeing Troy
Ballard, fully clothed but obviously fresh from a shower.
The man's platinum hair was still damp and darkened a
bit by the wetness. Then the man smiled and Jeremy felt
his lips answering in kind.

"Hey back." Troy leaned against the wall in the entry
and arched a brow. "You work fast," he added, "or it
looks like it, anyway. I'm not even slightly handy, so I
guess I can't say for sure, but I'm pretty sure you're way
quicker than my handymen."

"Handymen?" Jeremy echoed, though he wasn't sure he
really wanted an answer. For all he knew, that was some
euphemism specific to Troy. The last thing he wanted
was to know Troy kept a whole string of men, though
the blond was definitely hot enough to do just that.

Troy laughed, those green eyes sparkling in the sunlight
coming through the open front door. "Like I said, I'm
not handy. I have, oh, five or six of them, I think. The

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 36

same guys aren't always available when I need them, so
I tend to keep a few on speed-dial, just in case."

Once again, Jeremy didn't know quite what to make of
that, except Troy had said it in context of what Jeremy
was doing, so maybe it was only Jeremy's suddenly sex-
obsessed mind that was imagining men built like Riley
wearing nothing but tool belts and work boots, just
waiting to service Troy in whatever ways Troy might
want. "So you keep them on rotation or something?"

Troy laughed again. "Something like that. I mean, I have
a couple who are really good and I usually have enough
notice to schedule them well ahead of time, but every
once in a while something comes up that needs
immediate attention."

Oh, for fuck's sake, did Troy even know how that
sounded?

Well, apparently not because the man shrugged like it
was nothing. "So, how's it coming?"

Jeremy looked at his watch, then blinked. Over an hour
and it had felt like less than half that. "It's coming," he
answered as he got to his feet and stretched, his
shoulders crackling a little from being hunched over.
"I'm probably about halfway there. Maybe a little less.
Uh, if you want the metal plating around the front of the
lock, too, I'll need to measure and cut molding for the
outside of the door, but I can do that. It's the same style
as in here and it's a classic, so it's no problem. I'm pretty
sure I have enough, but if not, I can run over to the store
for more."

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 37

God, please let Troy want the outside molding done, too,
Jeremy found himself thinking. Because if another trip
to the hardware store was in order, maybe Troy would
forget all about that stupid offer by the time Jeremy got
back, and Jeremy could pretend he'd never groped and
propositioned the man.

Something of that must have shown on his face because
Troy's smile edged from amused to wicked in a
heartbeat. "Oh, I think just the inside will be fine. But
you've been working hard. Why don't you come into the
kitchen and I'll get you a drink or something. We can...
talk."

Jeremy tried to find a reasonable and polite way to
refuse, but there just wasn't one. After a moment or
three, he sighed softly and nodded. "Okay. Uh, that's
where your friend was last night, right? The screamer?
Back and off to the right? I'll be there in a minute," he
added when Troy nodded. "Just let me make sure the
door's latching properly."

God, what the fuck was he supposed to do now?

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 38

Chapter Four

It wasn't that Troy didn't appreciate the initial offer,
because he for damned sure did. Hell, just the idea of
Jeremy touching him, without fabric between hand and
cock, had made Troy's initial shower-wank session the
shortest in recent memory. Even with it being nearly two
months since Troy's last hook-up, that mental image had
had Troy spurting roughly under the hot water in less
than three minutes the first time. The second had taken
longer. So it wasn't that Troy wasn't interested in the
idea, it was that after coming twice and drying off and
dressing, he still wasn't sure that Jeremy hadn't offered
out of some sense of obligation, or maybe even payment
for not reporting the events of the night before to Safe
Haven Security.

Oh, there was definitely interest in Jeremy's eyes. Troy
knew that much and he had a healthy self-image,
anyway. He might not be the buffest or bulkiest guy out
there, but Troy was well aware of the fact that he looked
good and people, not just men, wanted him. That most
of those people didn't know him was the problem. And
while Troy was pretty sure that he liked Jeremy, or at
least liked what he'd seen so far, there was very little
chance that Jeremy had taken the time to consider
whether he liked Troy.

And I get that, Troy thought while he pulled two large
tumblers from the cupboard beside the fridge. I do. He's
got to be worried about his job and stuff, right now. So
maybe he's as attracted to me as I am to him, but some
part of him has to be thinking about work and keeping
his job, because he needs his job, like he said last night.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 39

He pressed each glass to the ice dispenser in the
refrigerator door, stopping after a few cubes dropped.

Troy smiled a little as he heard the kitchen door open
and close behind him. "I have sodas, juices and
Margarita mix. I recommend the Margarita mix, even
though there's no liquor in it. Yet," he announced as he
turned, and yeah. Jeremy looked just as good as Troy
thought. Hell, the younger man was rocking the hell out
of a pair of dark jeans and a faded blue T-shirt that
looked just worn enough to be a favorite. He was
covered in tiny particles of wood from working on the
door, but it was a good look.

"I. Okay. If you're sure it's not leaded. I know it sounds
weird, but I don't actually drink this early in the day. Or
at all, really." Jeremy said and Troy grinned at the
slightly confused look on the guy's face.

"Don't just say 'okay' because I suggested it," Troy
replied as he opened the refrigerator. "There's loads of
options. I have eight kinds of soda, caffeinated and not,
five different juices, um..." He counted quickly. "Looks
like six types of beer, which you won't be interested in
since it's not even noon yet, and various other mixers.
Though the Margarita mix is my own special blend. And
it really is too early, isn't it? So. The best Margarita mix
ever, or would you care for one of the dozen or so other
options?"

The list obviously surprised a laugh from Jeremy, as
well as prompting him to come closer because Troy felt
the man's presence right behind him. "Jesus, you weren't
kidding," Jeremy muttered and Troy laughed.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 40

"I really, really wasn't," he admitted. "Julian's little
disagreement with my coffee table had Margarita
Monday ending a lot sooner than it usually does. Thus,
many, many drinks remain." Troy sighed dramatically.
"It's a tragedy, really, but I suppose it just means I won't
need to buy as much for next week. So, what strikes
your fancy, Jeremy?"

Even with all the choices, they both ended up with
virgin Margaritas, on the rocks because Troy truly
thought frozen drinks should come from Seven-Eleven
in cups that said Slurpee on the side. Once they'd settled
at the kitchen table, Troy watched with interest as
Jeremy took his first sip and he smiled widely as
Jeremy's expression went from dubious to surprised to
pleased in as many seconds.

"This is good," Jeremy said with a happy sigh. "It's tart
but sweet and there's a hint of... something there. I don't
know what, but it's sort of nutty, maybe?" He drained
his glass easily. "I like it. Is there more?"

Troy blinked but he nodded, too. "You have a really
good palate. It's not actually nuts you're tasting, but
yeah, my secret ingredient's got a nutty sort of tinge. I'm
glad you like it." Troy meant it, too, which explained the
grin he wore as he got up, pulled the jug of Margarita
mix from the fridge and refilled Jeremy's glass. "So, I
know your name. I know you work security at night, and
I know you're really good with your hands. Handy, I
mean. Like you're all do-it-yourself guy. And I know
you're younger than I am."

Jeremy's eyes went wide, just like that, before returning
to their usual proportions, and they looked lighter than

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 41

before, though still gray, Troy saw. Gray with just a
touch of blue, though that was probably from the T-
shirt. "So you already know a whole hell of a lot more
about me than I know about you," Jeremy answered,
taking another long swallow of his drink. "I only know
your name and that you live here and have friends who
like to scream and attack furniture with their butts. Or,
you know, the other way around. Attack then scream."
He sounded just the tiniest bit grumpy and Troy
laughed.

"Point. Good point, even." Troy considered for a
moment, then nodded. "Okay. Troy Ballard, thirty years
old, though I hate to admit it. Like I said, I'm utter crap
with repairs and such, but I can and do make a mean
floral arrangement." He chuckled. "Stereotypical as that
may be. But I'm not a florist. I'm a decorator, and I'm
damned good at my job. I have a younger brother, David
-- he's straight, by the way -- who runs the family
manufacturing business in New York, and a niece, so
far. Her name is Bethany. My parents are both still alive,
still married to each other, and living down in Boca."

Troy tried to control his teasing side, but he just
couldn't. Not when Jeremy looked so fascinated with the
dry details of Troy's life.

"I'm a Leo with Gemini rising and I enjoy sunsets, long
walks in the country, and candlelit dinners with that
special someone, whomever that may be. Oh, and I have
lots of friends, most of whom come by on Monday
nights for drinks and cavorting." Troy did his best not to
smirk at the cross between amusement and confusion on
Jeremy's face. "Aside from that, I guess I should tell you
that while I'd really love to take you up on what you said

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 42

earlier, I think it's a really bad idea. Between us, I mean.
Right now. I know that's not what you were expecting to
hear, but it's the truth. And under no circumstances will I
ever report what happened here last night to your work,
even without sex in the equation. And now it's your turn,
hmm?"

***

Oh, for fuck's sake! Jeremy thought it but couldn't say it,
what with keeping himself from spitting a mouthful of
his drink across the kitchen table.

On the one hand, it was great that Troy had been all
bantering and stuff, but then he'd gone and said that
about the offer and Jeremy didn't know whether to be
relieved or offended. Fuck, he figured he should really
be both. Relieved that Troy wasn't going to hold him to
it, and offended at the implication that Jeremy had only
suggested it in order to bribe Troy.

The relieved outweighed the offended, though. By a lot,
once Jeremy realized Troy hadn't said never, but not
right then. Maybe after they got to know each other
better, assuming they did. Which suggested that Troy
might want to see him after the door was fixed. Maybe.
Jeremy wasn't quite clear on that part. Wasn't clear on
anything, really, because he was a little bit dizzy, all of a
sudden.

A small, rough sound that proved to be Troy clearing his
throat drew Jeremy back to the moment, and back to the
question still on the table, so to speak. Right. Troy had
finished up with "and you," or something, hadn't he?

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 43

"Um." Jeremy took another deep sip or six of the virgin
drink, savoring the tartness, the small touch of sweetness
and the oddly nutty finish. He nodded when Troy raised
the jug, agreeing easily to a refill. "Okay. Jeremy
Nelson, which you know. Security guard, which you
also know. Uh, twenty-five. My last job was in
construction, but that was a year and a half ago. The
money was good but I needed different hours since I
decided to go back to school and the classes I wanted
were in the daytime. I'm a history major. American
history, if we're being specific, and I'm hoping to teach,
one of these days." He smiled.

"For the record, I'm a Libra. I don't know what my rising
sign is, or even what that means, but I'm not against
sunsets, walks or dinners, just so you know. Uh, I kind
of like watching football and hockey, when I can. Oh,
and Riley's pretty much my closest friend right now."
Jeremy blushed. He could feel the heat rising in his
cheeks. "I'm an only child. Dad died when I was, like,
eight, and my Mom -- seriously, this isn't a joke, okay? -
- she ran off to join the circus when I was ten, but we
keep in touch. My Grandmother raised me after that but
she passed away six years ago. There's an uncle I don't
get along with, and that's it."

Troy's brows lowered, drawing down to hood those
green eyes and Jeremy knew the man was trying to
decide what to say. Then one of Troy's hands reached
across the table and pressed down over Jeremy's. The
same hand that had been injured the night before.
Jeremy felt the small scratching of a bandage against his
skin, smooth but slightly rough at the edges.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 44

"I'm sorry that you and your uncle aren't close," Troy
said, when Jeremy was expecting something about his
mother and her circus career. "That has to suck if he's
your only family, aside from your Mom. I mean, I
assume she's not around much, what with circuses being
more travel-oriented than not."

Way less judgmental than Jeremy had been expecting. In
fact, Troy hadn't sneered at all. It was almost too good to
be true, damn it. Jeremy felt a little weird about all the
honesty because he didn't have the slightest clue about
where this thing with Troy was going, but Jeremy kept
on, unable to stop himself.

"I don't talk to either of them as much as I should,"
Jeremy said quietly. "Mom's never in the same place for
long, and my uncle... He disapproves of my 'lifestyle
choices' because I'm more gay than straight. I mean, it
was fine when I was dating men and women, but I don't
really do that anymore. It's more about whether I like
someone than gender for me, but I usually like guys."

Troy's hand stilled. Not that it had been moving before,
but it felt different. Like Troy had frozen or something.
And when Jeremy looked, Troy's eyes were closed. Only
for a few moments, but they were closed. Then they
opened and Troy's gaze speared right into Jeremy's.

"So what you're saying is, you're bisexual." More
statement than question, really, but Jeremy had to
answer. He couldn't not answer. Not when Troy looked
so confused.

"I'm saying I like women. I've dated women. But... God,
how am I telling you this so soon? Fuck!" Jeremy

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 45

blushed deeper, his face so warm he thought it might
burst into flame. "I find women attractive. I just
generally find men more attractive. And... oh, God, are
you sure there's no booze in these drinks?"

Jeremy frowned, but he'd already started. There was no
way to stop explaining; especially not where he'd
paused. "My grandmother never really had 'the talk' with
me and I was privately schooled so the whole thing
didn't really come up. By the time it did, it was too late
for anyone to make me think there was anything wrong
with who I am. Seriously, are you sure this drink isn't
alcoholic? Because I'm not a big drinker and I'm not a
sharer, but I feel kind of... I don't tell people this shit
when I first meet them! Like, ever!"

Troy's lips twitched and his hand pressed down again,
which Jeremy decided was a good thing. "I didn't make
up any mix with booze in it, but maybe... I'll check with
Richard later, okay? He's in classes until three, then he
has office hours 'til four-thirty. He's a professor. But he
might have decided to help out and pick up a little while
he was in the kitchen with Julian last night. Who
knows? Um, if you're feeling drunk, I'm not sure you
should be using power tools, though. How about we
switch you to water, hmm?"

Oh. Oh, that sounded like a good idea. A very good
idea. Yes.

Jeremy nodded slowly. "Thanks. I just don't know why
I'm saying all this. I don't. Know." He hiccupped. "Oh,
fuck."

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 46

Troy frowned slightly. "You know, why don't we go sit
on the couch. There's probably something good on one
of the ESPNs. You'll watch, I'll leave Richard a
message, it's all good."

"Uh-huh," Jeremy managed to say, though the kitchen
suddenly started swimming when he tried to stand. "Oh,
fuck. I'm... shit, I'm messed up, Troy. You're really
pretty, you know that?"

Troy laughed, though somehow he was beside Jeremy
rather than across the table, all of a sudden. "You're
gorgeous, too," Troy said and Jeremy tried to preen,
even as he let Troy pull him from the chair. "When
you're not about to pass out, anyway," Troy added and
Jeremy laughed. He wasn't passing out. He was
definitely groping Troy's ass, though, and it was nice
and round and firm. Not bubbly, but masculine and
toned and--

And Jeremy was on a couch, all of a sudden, his hand
wrapped around the arm, which also felt... whatever.
"Shit. I need to finish your door, man," he muttered but
Troy laughed.

"Later," Troy said, pointing a remote at the television
and clicking away. "Look, there's a poker tournament."

Jeremy looked and there actually was, which was good.
He could just watch that and not say anything stupid.
"Cool, man. But I gotta do the door."

"Later," Troy said, a smile in the man's voice as well as
on those full, ripe lips. "Just stay right there and I'll

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 47

bring you some water. Maybe some food, too, if you
think you can handle it."

Oh. Oh, food sounded good. It sounded good to his
stomach, too, because Jeremy felt it rumbling.
"Wouldn't mind eating," he managed to say slowly.
"Meant to get some breakfast on the way but I didn't
wanna be late."

"Food, it is." Troy still sounded amused, and that was
good. It meant Jeremy didn't need to look away from the
poker game. "I'll be right back."

"With food," Jeremy told himself a few seconds later,
after Troy had somehow vanished. "You'll be back with
food and water and I won't have sex with you and you're
fine with that, and so am I, but not really, and..."

And someone pulled off a really cool bluff, which had
Jeremy laughing and clapping and ultimately making
enough of a fool of himself that he would cringe later,
when he'd sobered up.

***

Oh, for fuck's sake. Even though Jeremy seemed
somewhat better after water and some orange juice and a
couple sandwiches left over from the previous night's
platters, Troy couldn't help thinking the guy was a
lightweight. After all, Troy had downed just as much of
the Margarita mix in question and while he hadn't tasted
tequila or triple sec, that wasn't surprising. His special
blend was designed to mask those flavors. Even so, Troy
didn't have even a slight buzz, while Jeremy, well,
Jeremy obviously hadn't been kidding when he'd said he

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 48

didn't drink much. It was kind of cute, actually. Then
again, so was Jeremy, but Troy was not going there.

A security guard? Really? And there was nothing wrong
with that. There wasn't. Especially when Troy wasn't
looking for anything but a short-term fling. That was all
he ever looked for, really, no matter how many times his
friends tried to set him up. But a bisexual security guard
with such a low tolerance for alcohol sort of implied
inexperience, and while Troy couldn't deny that he liked
Jeremy, so far, he silently admitted that even the
possibility of future sex was firmly off the table. He
didn't want or desire clingy and needy, damn it, and
judging from the evidence at hand... yeah. So not going
there with Jeremy.

On the other hand, Troy did like the guy. Jeremy seemed
responsible and personable and damned pleasant, too.
Without sex as a possibility, Troy had to admit that
Jeremy seemed, so far, to be the kind of guy Troy
wouldn't mind having as a friend. And unless Jeremy
was completely faking his personality, Troy thought he
might even get along with the usual Monday crowd.

That was exactly why Troy found himself watching
Jeremy finish up the door a few hours later, trying to
ignore the surge of sexual interest that rose higher every
time Jeremy used his nail gun to attach the molding to
the inside of Troy's door.

"I should probably paint it," Jeremy said, not looking up,
but then again, Troy couldn't remember seeing more
than a glimpse of those gray eyes since Jeremy had
sobered up. "I mean, I could have bought some of that
composite resin molding but it would have looked weird

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 49

with the rest of it being painted wood so I went with the
wooden kind. But I guess... shit. I forgot about the paint,
probably 'cause I skipped the coffee this morning, and I
could come back. Uh, not tomorrow, but maybe over the
weekend. The rest of the trim looks like standard
eggshell-white, so it's cool. It's not a custom blend or
anything."

Troy arched a brow at the easy identification, not that it
mattered when Jeremy still wouldn't look at him; then he
sighed. "If that's what you want to do, then fine. But I
hate to think you'll be sacrificing yet another day to this.
Tell you what. What time do you get out of your classes
on Monday?"

Jeremy started a little, though Troy wouldn't have seen it
if he hadn't been watching the young man so closely.
Then those eyes darted to Troy's and Troy smiled.

"Yes, I actually was listening to you earlier," Troy said
to the confusion in that gaze. "My friends don't usually
start getting here until seven or so on Mondays, so if
you're free earlier, maybe you could come by after class
to deal with the whole... painting thing." He wrinkled his
nose a little. "It would let you have the weekend to
yourself, anyway, and if you felt like it, you could stick
around for the party. Unless you're working, of course,
which I guess you are since you were on duty last night,
so never mind."

Jeremy's eyes, so gray and bothered, turned a little bit
darker, though Troy didn't know why. "No," he
answered, standing once he'd shot another nail into the
base of the door trim. "No, Monday's fine. I... I could do
that. You know, the paint thing. Uh, I finish my classes

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 50

around two on Mondays, so that would be plenty of
time, but..." He frowned. "Sorry, it's just, it's a weekday.
I don't want you to miss work or anything, you know?"

Troy laughed and shook his head. "Please. I have my
own business. That means I'm the boss. And I have an
assistant. If I tell him to clear my schedule for Monday
afternoon, Percy will for damned sure clear my
schedule. So, Monday, then. Let's say four o'clock, just
so you don't feel like you have to rush."

"I. Three might be better," Jeremy murmured. "So the
paint can dry before your friends are here. And I don't
want anyone to ruin their clothes or anything, so how
does three o'clock sound? Unless four is really better for
you. Um, whichever."

There was something about looking up into Jeremy's
gray eyes while knowing that he, himself, was in charge.
Something cool and hot and sort of primal that threw
Troy for a loop. It was so deep that Troy was speechless
for a moment.

Only for a moment, though, because he rallied mere
seconds later. "Well, I'll see you here, Monday at three,
then. You have a good week, hmm? And you can go
ahead and let yourself out once you've gathered your
tools and whatnot. Just make sure the door locks behind
you, okay? I have things to do, so we'll call this
goodbye, for now. I'll look forward to seeing you again."

"I. Okay?" Jeremy answered, but Troy was already
walking away as fast as his legs could carry him without
running.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 51

There was no way he was going to give in to the urge to
just throw Jeremy down and have at him. Hell, there was
no way that he even felt the urge to do that, at all. He
didn't. I don't!

***

"Don't take this the wrong way," Evan said over the
phone later that evening, and Troy could hear the smirk
on his friend's face, even all the way across the country.
"But you like him, Troy. I can tell. You're getting all
freaked out, just like you always do when you start to
really like someone. Personally, I think it's some kind of
leftover reflex from when you caught Julian cheating on
you with Richard, back in college."

Troy snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, honey. That was ten
years ago, now, and I've had other relationships since."

Evan chuckled and Troy could picture him shaking his
head. "You've had some very extended one night stands.
A couple of them even lasted a month or two. But
when's the last time you got involved with someone you
cared about losing?"

Oh, for-- "I barely know this guy, Evvy, and you have
me pining away! He broke down my door and came by
to fix it. That's it. Oh, and I fed him a sandwich when I
accidentally got him drunk, but that's a long story and it
doesn't matter, anyway. He's just some security guard
and we've never even kissed!"

"That's exactly my point," Evan said then, and damned if
he didn't sound all wise and triumphant. "When's the last
time you didn't touch someone but felt all nervous about

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 52

seeing them? Because that's not your usual thing, Troy.
Hell, you're one of the most confident guys I know, but
you're getting all freaked out over this one guy. So
maybe you need to be asking yourself why. If it could be
something real, then you need to--"

Troy couldn't help laughing, all of a sudden. "Okay.
Okay, wait. I get it." He really did, too. "Look, Evvy.
You know I love you. You're my best friend, even if you
are way the hell over on the other side of the country,
more or less." He took a deep breath before continuing.
"And you know I love Gray, too. He's good for you and
good to you, and that's all I could ask of anyone who's
with my best friend. But just because you found your
prince, doesn't mean I'm looking for one, okay?" Or
even that there was one for him, damn it.

Evan sighed, the earlier chuckle faded to silence. "I don't
believe that, Troy. Because I remember. Back when I
was all freaked out because I was falling for Gray, you
said... God, what was it? Shit. I can't quote it verbatim,
but something like you'd give a body part to fall in love.
So maybe you have a chance."

Troy frowned, then smiled sadly, though Evan couldn't
see it, of course. "I remember that conversation, Evvy.
What I said was I wanted to fall in love with someone
who loved me, too. And that's a whole other thing from
just falling in love at random." He didn't say anything
about love never lasting; mostly because Troy was really
hoping Evan and Gray would prove that wrong. But
even if they did, Troy was fairly sure it would never
happen for him. And in the unlikely event that it turned
out to be possible, it wouldn't be with some bisexual

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 53

security guard who couldn't hold his liquor. Troy was
sure of that much.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 54

Chapter Five

"Mmm... so that's Jeremy, huh? I approve," Pauly
announced playfully and Troy nearly groaned at the so-
knowing tone to his friend's voice. "And can I say how
happy I am that I came by early? It's like I've gotten a
sneak peek at your new hottie."

"Oh, for-- just shut up, Pauly. Please." Troy blushed a
little when Jeremy glanced over, then he hustled Pauly
back into the kitchen, leaving Jeremy to finish painting
the door frame. "Honestly, you can be such a pain. Yes,
that was Jeremy, but he's not my 'new' anything. He's
just finishing up and then he'll be on his way."

Pauly sighed and shook his head, opening the
refrigerator and pulling out a can of orange soda. "I
believe you. I really do. I just think it's a shame, is all. I
mean, I only saw him for a minute or so, but he's
gorgeous. And the way he was so obviously not looking
at you? Oh, that's one boy who's seriously warm for
your form."

God, what was it, the eighties? Still, Pauly might be a lot
of things, but unobservant wasn't one of them, and Troy
had never been one to deny the obvious. "I know. And
God, what I wouldn't give to spend a day or two
crawling all over him." The idea, alone, had Troy
humming softly. "There's something about him that's
just... I don't know. Something. But he's a security
guard, and between work and school, he doesn't have a
whole lot of time. Plus, I kind of get the feeling that he's
looking for something more than just a night or two,
which you know I don't do. I just doubt he'd be cool

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 55

with the idea of a week or so of hot sex with no strings,
Pauly."

"You know, honey, my granddad used to have this
saying. 'There is none so blind as he who will not see.'
Think about it while I start bringing the ice in from my
car, hmmm?" Pauly offered up a smug smile before
setting his soda down and disappearing quickly through
the back kitchen door that opened onto the fenced in
yard behind the house.

None so blind as... what the hell is that supposed to
mean? Troy had no idea, but there was little doubt that
Pauly had said it for a reason. Pauly might be borderline
campy, most of the time, but there was a whole hell of a
lot of intelligence hidden beneath the deliberately
stereotypical behavior. Troy would have been sure of
that much even if he hadn't know Pauly for years
already. There was no way Pauly could be so happily
involved with James and Randy, and for such a length of
time, if there wasn't more to him than just a pretty face
and shallow personality. So Pauly's words had to mean
something. Troy just didn't know what yet.

He grumbled to himself as he started pulling cans and
bottles left over from the week before out of the fridge,
arranging them on the counters in preparation for icing
them down in the two tubs under the kitchen table. It
wasn't an unhappy grumble, really. Just more confused
than anything else. Not that it mattered.

Jeremy was going to be leaving soon, heading off to
work, so whatever Pauly had meant, Troy didn't suppose
it made any difference. Assuming Pauly's words had

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 56

been intended to apply to Jeremy in some way, which
Troy was fairly sure was the case.

It didn't matter that seeing Jeremy again after nearly a
week had started Troy's heart pounding away when the
younger man had first arrived. It didn't even matter that
Troy's dreams had been filled with all sorts of things he
would never do with Jeremy, or that one of those dreams
had involved Jeremy on his knees, sucking Troy's cock
in their house, a dog Troy somehow knew belonged to
them both barking in the back yard.

That had been an aberration, some bizarre reaction to
seeing Evan and Gray so happy and domestic, Troy was
sure. And thank God the two men were safely back in
Montana. Who knew what other crazy thoughts Troy
might be having if they were still in town? Then again,
the weird, imaginary, domestic blow-job had happened
after he'd spoken with Evan on the phone, so maybe just
talking to Evan was enough to cause mild insanity. Or
Troy had been right and Evan was sending out 'settle
down' vibes with some heretofore unsuspected mind-
washing ability.

The rest of the dreams -- those he'd experienced both
sleeping and awake -- were more reasonable, thank God.
Sexual. And yet, even when he wasn't dreaming, Troy
hadn't quite been able to get Jeremy out of his mind, and
that was either disturbing or just some strange
fascination Troy couldn't explain.

Figuring it out for certain wasn't exactly a priority.
Jeremy would be taking off to get to work as soon as the
front door was finished, and Troy doubted that he'd see
the younger man again any time soon. That was a good

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 57

thing, really. Troy had all he could do, just trying to
keep himself from looking at Jeremy with the degree of
desire he actually felt. It was messed up, but whatever. It
was better to hide the want from Jeremy for the next
little while it would take to finish the door, rather than
let the man see how badly Troy did want him and have
Jeremy misunderstand things.

Troy didn't do 'real' relationships. He just didn't. But that
didn't mean he wanted to hurt anyone's feelings;
especially not Jeremy's, for some reason.

***

Jeremy knew he was being watched even before the guy
standing at the bottom of Troy's front steps spoke. It was
hard not to know, considering the way the watcher was
constantly in motion. Even from the corner of his eye,
Jeremy could tell that being still would be a challenge
for the man. A foot tapped, then fingers curled and
uncurled. Hips shifted, almost like a dance, then the
foot-tapping again. It was kind of funny, but also a little
annoying.

"Can I help you?" Jeremy asked, laying one final swath
of paint along the door molding, then stepping back,
brush in hand. Only when he'd made sure that the paint
was even and free of air bubbles and stray hairs did he
transfer his gaze to the study-in-browns observing him.
Though observing might not be a strong enough word,
Jeremy realized then. The man was looking at him as
though Jeremy was the most fascinating, yet alien, life
form ever. Like the guy didn't know what Jeremy might
do next but was anxious to find out.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 58

"I'm Pauly. A friend of Troy's." As if that wasn't
obvious. "And you're the security guard. Jeremy, right?"

Jeremy snorted and bent down, carefully placing the
cover on the paint canister and setting the brush on top.
"Since you and Troy were just inside talking about me,
I'd say you already know who I am." He grinned when
Pauly's eyes rolled. "Sorry. Was I not supposed to
notice? You guys were all of ten feet away when you
started in. Oh, thanks for saying I'm hot, by the way.
And right back at you, even though I'm sure you already
know that part." He winked and Pauly's expression went
from bland to highly amused in a split second. At least
Jeremy thought that was what the change meant, given it
was coupled with sudden laughter.

Pauly sighed dramatically and pressed one hand to his
own chest as soon as he finished laughing, and Jeremy
just stood there, waiting for the punch line because there
was no way that overdone shift wasn't meant to set
something up. He was right, too, because the brown-
haired, brown-eyed, light-brown-skinned man smirked
just a bit and shook his head. "Oh! It's such a relief to
know that I can still drag a compliment from a sweet
young thing like you. It's been positively ages! And that
does it. You're definitely a keeper!"

Jeremy snorted again. "I'm glad someone thinks so. Um,
look. I have to get going. Unless you need me to help
you with something? I mean, I'm guessing you're
helping Troy get his party thing ready and I wouldn't be
any big help with that because I really do have to go, but
if it's something quick, I could lend a hand."

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 59

And I wouldn't mind if it were something that would let
me see Troy again before I go, either. Yeah, Jeremy
wouldn't mind that at all. Jeremy had spent a few
minutes with Troy on arriving at the Ballard house, of
course, but something inside Jeremy really wanted to see
him again, at least for long enough to say goodbye and
maybe have a conversation for a minute. He just liked
Troy, damn it, or liked what he knew of the man,
anyway. Enough so that Jeremy wanted to know more.

Something of that might have shown on his face because
Jeremy saw Pauly's eyes widen for just a moment before
a sly grin crossed the man's face. "Well, I do have sixty
pounds of ice to haul into the kitchen," Pauly answered.
"I suppose you could help me with that. If you're not in
too much of a hurry, that is."

Jeremy looked quickly at his watch then shrugged. "I
doubt another five or ten minutes will do any damage.
Show me to this pile of ice you've got." He grinned and
picked up the paint can and brush, then gathered the
small tarp he'd laid down to protect the floor. "Just let
me stash this stuff in my car first. Leave this door open
for now or the paint will stick as it dries, okay? I'll come
right back."

"Mmm... You do that, honey. I'll just be up the
driveway, there. Feel free to start grabbing bags of ice
and bringing them into the kitchen through the back
door. You know, if I'm already inside. The gate in the
fence isn't locked."

"No problem," Jeremy said with a grin. And why
shouldn't he grin? He was going to see Troy one last
time before work, and maybe Troy would even invite

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 60

him to another of the weekly parties. If so, Jeremy
would do his damnedest to switch shifts with someone.
He would have to, because even after a week of trying
not to think about it, the idea of spending a night with
Troy -- surrounded by other people or not -- sounded
amazing. Jeremy wasn't entirely sure that he actually
liked Troy as much as he thought he did, but he
definitely wanted the chance to find out.

If not, then no harm, no foul, and Jeremy could just go
on jerking off while imagining Troy's hands and lips and
all that fine skin pressed against him. But if Jeremy
really did like Troy even half as much as Jeremy
believed himself to? Well, maybe all that didn't have to
stay in his imagination. Maybe there was a chance of life
imitating... not art, but some fairly graphic dreams.

And maybe, Jeremy considered as he got the paint and
such put away then strolled up the drive to Pauly's car,
where he grabbed two bags of ice, maybe Troy wasn't
interested at all, anymore. It had been a week, and while
Jeremy no longer thought Troy was sleeping with any of
the men who'd stayed at the Ballard house on the night
of the broken door, or not in any serious way, there was
nothing to say that Troy hadn't already moved on. As
attractive as Troy was, Jeremy wouldn't doubt it. There
were likely hundreds of men just waiting to get their
hands on the lithe blond, and Jeremy couldn't blame
them for that, especially when he shared that desire.

He didn't think Troy was looking for a relationship,
though. With everything the man had going for him,
Troy would already be in one if he wanted to be. Still,
maybe there was something to be said for short-term
monogamy, and if Troy was willing to go for that much,

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 61

Jeremy couldn't see himself saying no. He hadn't had
much luck with finding Mr. Right, due to his schedule,
but maybe Troy could be a Mr. Right Now. It might
even be enough.

Assuming he's even still interested, Jeremy reminded
himself as he pushed through the gate to the back yard,
then climbed the two small steps to the deck. He might
not be. Just because a week doesn't seem like much time
to me, that doesn't mean he hasn't forgotten all about the
attraction. And he's seen me drunk and stupid, so I can't
be upset if that's put him off.

Jeremy stepped through the open back door to the
kitchen and tried to smile as seductively as he could
with twenty pounds of ice melting in his hands. "Um,
where should I put these?" he asked, raising the bags
just a bit.

"I'll take them," Pauly said, but Jeremy barely heard
him. He only knew Pauly had taken the ice by the fact
that his hands felt lighter.

The rest of him felt lighter, too. Tighter. Both eased and
excited by the heat that filled Troy's eyes when their
gazes met. Heat and surprise and what looked like
reluctance, and while it wasn't a combination Jeremy
was used to seeing from anyone, from Troy it was
enough to make Jeremy shiver with some oddly
frightening sort of anticipation.

"Um. I. I should go."

Troy nodded, those green eyes narrowing slightly.
Something faded in Troy's gaze, leaving just the heat

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 62

behind. "You should," he murmured, and Jeremy sucked
in a sharp, short breath as Troy moved closer, step by
measured, deliberate step. "You've got work tonight.
You don't want to be late."

Jeremy swallowed hard, trying to work up moisture for
his suddenly dry mouth. "I. No. Late would be. Bad. I.
Oh, God." His hands clenched at his sides, fingers
curling, contracting inward, then pushing, spreading out.
"Um, I should."

"Go," Troy agreed, taking another step closer, until less
than an inch remained between them. Until Jeremy
could feel the man's heat radiating against him. "You
already said that, Jeremy."

"I... oh, God. I want. Are you. Are you going to kiss me
now, Troy? I. I kind of want you to kiss me now." Fuck
if that was a strong enough statement when the truth
was, Jeremy felt like he just might die if Troy didn't cash
the check that toned body was writing just by being
there. "I. Please, okay?"

Troy leaned in closer, his breath sweet across Jeremy's
lips and Jeremy closed his eyes as that breath became
whispered words. "I love the way you beg. Maybe I was
wrong about. Never mind. It doesn't matter. Say it again,
Jeremy."

Jeremy moaned softly at the first, barely-there brush of
Troy's mouth against his own, his hands rising of their
own accord to find Troy's hips, fingers gripping denim.
"Please," he whispered back and Troy's soft growl raced
through Jeremy, stoking the already intense heat he felt.
"Please," less a whisper than a movement of lips, but it

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 63

was enough because Troy's mouth pressed harder
against Jeremy's own and Jeremy let his lips part, fully
expecting Troy's to do the same, which they didn't
because of the sudden sound from outside the two of
them.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you two, get a room!"

Fuck. Fuck, they'd -- both, apparently -- forgotten about
Pauly. "I. Yeah. I. Sorry. I need to go. I. Okay. Bye!"

Jeremy ran. He didn't care that it was obvious, either. He
ran like someone had set his ass on fire, because God.
He would have let Troy do anything, right there in the
kitchen. Hell, he not only would have let Troy do
anything, but Jeremy would have been a very active
participant, too, and that sort of made him just as big of
a slut as he'd judged other people for being, didn't it?
And it was only Troy Ballard who made him forget
himself that way.

He'd already known there was something about Troy,
but he'd wanted to find out what it was. Now that
Jeremy had experienced at least a little bit of it, it was
far more terrifying than exciting. And it wasn't normal.
It couldn't be normal. Even in Jeremy's tom-catting-
about phase, he'd never once reacted so strongly to
anyone, and he and Troy hadn't even really kissed. Not
really. But they would. Jeremy knew that just as much
as he knew the sun would rise in the east, the next
morning. There was no question.

"Oh, God. I am so screwed," Jeremy whispered to his
own gaze in the rear view mirror as he steered hastily

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 64

away from the curb in front of Troy's house. "I am so
fucking screwed. Shit!"

***

The kitchen was blurry. Or maybe it was spinning. Troy
couldn't be entirely sure. The only thing he knew was
that it had to be the kitchen itself because there was no
way -- not a single chance in hell -- that the barely-there
kiss between Jeremy and himself could have Troy
feeling fuzzy and off balance.

Jeremy's lips had tasted of citrus, though. A little bit
sweet but also sharp. Tart. "Luscious," Troy murmured
to himself before Pauly's amused snort reminded him of
his friend's presence. "Oh, shut up. Drink your soda."

"I will," Pauly answered easily, setting the last of the
bags of ice down in the kitchen sink. "I'll drink and think
about the best way to get that finer-than-fine man back
here later. Because no matter what you say you want, I
know you. And what you really want is tall and hot and
rhymes with... hmmm. Nothing rhymes with 'Jeremy,'
does it? Kind of like 'orange.' How disappointing."

Troy groaned. "You'll drink your damned soda and keep
your prying little nose out of my love life, Pauly. I know
he's hot. I'm not stupid. But he's also young and still in
college and he's not fling material, so just back off,
okay? Or do I need to speak with James and Randy?" He
arched a brow and smiled a little when Pauly frowned.
Then his smile, small as it was, faded with Pauly's next
words.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 65

"You really think my nose is little? Too little? Because
you know what they say about the size of a man's nose
and I wouldn't want anyone to think I wasn't able to
satisfy my guys, Troy. You know how many man-
whores there are who would just love to be me? I don't
want them thinking they can take a shot just because my
nose is too small."

"Wait." Troy fought the impulse to laugh and lost the
battle. "Okay. Honestly, that's all you got from what I
just said? That your nose is too small to imply the size
of what I'm sure is an enormous cock? God! I do not
envy James and Randy. Not even slightly."

Just like that, Pauly looked smug. "You would if you
knew what I was packing. Now, where are you hiding
the party food? I might as well start getting at least the
non-perishables set up."

Troy chuckled and started working side by side with his
friend, filling bowls and platters with chips, cookies,
pretzels and the like while they bantered and teased each
other. He didn't realize, until hours later, that Pauly
hadn't agreed to stay out of things. And by the time Troy
did notice, of course it was far too late for him to do
anything about it.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 66

Chapter Six

The slow, easy night Jeremy had been hoping for had
already been shot to hell. Not because there was
anything going on in the neighborhood he and Riley
patrolled, but because Riley refused to shut up.

God knew, Jeremy liked his partner. They were friends,
even when off the job. They had been known to have a
beer or two on their nights off and Riley had invited
Jeremy to a barbeque at his parents house, once. Riley
Senior and 'call me Maureen,' Riley's mother, had been
happy to have him, too. They'd even insisted that Jeremy
was welcome whenever their son was around. Jeremy
had been a bit floored by that because his own very
limited family was less open, but whatever. The truth
was, Jeremy liked Riley and he liked Riley's parents.

What he didn't like was the fact that Riley hadn't shut
the hell up since they'd first gotten into the patrol car,
nearly four hours earlier.

"Dude, I'm not kidding. This chick was fucking limber.
She did this thing--"

Jeremy tried to sound less irritated than he actually was,
but damned if he could help it. "I swear, man. If you tell
me one more time about her ankles behind her head, I'm
going to puke, okay?" He shuddered slightly. "I mean, it
was almost interesting the first ten times, but now it just
makes her sound like a freak."

Riley barked out a laugh. "She is! She's a total freak,
man! I think I'm in love. And I'm meeting her after I get

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 67

off." Riley paused and Jeremy sighed, closing his eyes
against whatever was about to come out of Riley's
mouth. He could already tell it was going to be stupid.

"Well, I'm meeting her after work, so I guess that's
technically before I get off, right?"

Jeremy groaned silently while Riley sniggered.
"Seriously? I'm amazed you ever manage a first hook-up
if you say shit like that," Jeremy muttered, which only
had Riley laughing more. "Jesus. You're such an
asshole."

God only knew what Riley would have said to that,
though Jeremy was sure it would have been something
juvenile. Riley seemed to be having one of those nights.
Fortunately -- or unfortunately; Jeremy couldn't decide
which -- their radio crackled just then, the dispatcher's
voice breaking through Riley's chuckles.

"Noise disturbance reported at Five-sixteen Beaumont.
Nelson and Abrams, you know the drill. Report in when
resolved."

Riley stepped on the brake and darted a glance at
Jeremy, even while steering into a U-turn. "Five-sixteen
Beaumont. Isn't that your boyfriend's house?"

Jeremy frowned and stared out the passenger side
window.

"You know, the same place we went last week? Glass-
ass. Screaming. And the blond dude you couldn't stop
staring at? You broke his door. Any of this ringing a
fucking bell?"

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 68

Well, of course Riley remembered, Jeremy thought
grumpily. Life would be way too easy, otherwise.

"Yeah," he agreed, still grumpy and annoyed, though
mostly at himself when he remembered running out of
that same house's kitchen earlier that day. "That's Tr--
The Ballard place. But he's not my boyfriend. I barely
know the guy."

Riley was smirking in the glow of the streetlamps when
Jeremy finally looked away from the window.
"Whatever, dude. Guess we have to break up another
party."

Another? They hadn't even broken up the last, what with
the only people in the house being Troy and his two
friends by the time Jeremy and Riley had gotten there.
But if Riley wanted to remember it as an
accomplishment, Jeremy was willing to go along with
him. For the moment, anyway.

***

Troy didn't even see the front door opening, though he
felt the short blast of cooler air when it did. He didn't
think anything of it, however; mostly because people
had been wandering in and out all night, as they usually
did. Some of his friends were smokers and frequently
stepped outside to indulge, as Troy didn't allow it in his
house. Whether they went out front or onto the deck in
back depended entirely upon which door was closest
when they felt the urge. Troy understood that, which
was why the gust of spring that wafted a small tinge of
burning tobacco to him didn't make much of an impact.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 69

The sudden stares that James, Randy and a number of
his other friends directed toward the door did.

"Oh, Lord. Everyone say hello to the rent-a-cops!" That
was Julian, being snarky and rude from his spot on the
couch. Then again, Julian had been like that all night,
regardless of how much Richard danced attendance.
And thank God it was Richard with Julian these days
instead of himself, Troy thought with a degree of
honesty he'd never allow himself if he were speaking
aloud. He didn't have the patience anymore to deal with
someone so high-maintenance, if he ever had. He
couldn't swear to it, but he was fairly sure Julian had
gotten more demanding since the old days.

"Glass-ass! Hey, how's your butt?" Troy heard the words
and voice and if he'd been anywhere else, or even right
where he was but with fewer people around, he would
have hidden his face in his hands as that voice went on.
"I guess it can't hurt too much if you're sitting down on
it, huh? Then again, you guys are used to your butts
hurting, right? I guess that'd explain it."

Christ, that should have been all kinds of offensive, but
somehow Jeremy's partner, Riley, who Troy recalled
from the night a week earlier, sounded so jovial and
simple about it, nobody seemed to mind. In fact,
everyone other than Julian, Richard, Troy himself and...
yeah, and Jeremy... seemed to be laughing. Troy was
just shocked. Julian looked like he'd swallowed
something nasty. Richard froze for a moment, then his
lips compressed and one hand rose to cover them... and
Jeremy turned bright red, his hand rising to slap his
partner on the back of the head.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 70

"God, Riley, are you trying to get us fired? Shut up, for
God's sake! You might not need this job, but I do!"
Yeah, Jeremy was clearly embarrassed, right up until
muffled sounds started to make it past Richard's hand,
followed swiftly by unmuffled ones as the man's hand
fell away.

Troy stared while Richard collapsed on the couch,
laughing so hard that tears began to slide down his
cheeks. Then Julian frowned and screwed his mouth up
into an angry line that faded in mere moments to
become a small, amused smile as he leaned closer to
Richard. "And you say you can't take me anywhere,"
Julian announced, the snark sounding more teasing than
anything else, finally. "Just imagine if he was your
honey."

More laughter rang out, Troy's friends returning to their
own pleasures, though Troy wasn't surprised to see a fair
number of eyes still raking over Jeremy's partner. Over
Jeremy, too, Troy noticed a moment later, unexpected
anger rising at the thought. It was fine for people to be
scoping out Riley. The man was built like a brick shit-
house with extra bricks. But Jeremy... they shouldn't be
looking at Jeremy like that. Like Jeremy was new meat
or something, damn it.

That thought was still bouncing through his brain when
Troy turned his glare from one of his staring friends to
Jeremy, meeting the man's dark gray eyes with a frown.
"Maybe you'd like to tell me what the hell you're doing
here. You're obviously working, so I know you're not
taking me up on my invitation to the party."

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 71

The couple inches Jeremy had on him suddenly seemed
to matter because Jeremy took three steps, stopping right
in front of Troy and somehow Troy felt small. Not
threatened, but smaller than he actually was. Enough so
that he glared harder and crossed his arms over his chest
in an effort to appear bulkier. "Well?"

Jeremy's eyes narrowed, glittering in the subdued
lighting, though Troy couldn't tell with what. "We had a
noise complaint," Jeremy said slowly, each word
enunciated clearly and sharply. "Dispatch ordered us
here."

"They did, man," Riley burst in, seemingly without a
single thought. "But I can't tell you why. I mean, shit.
We could barely hear the music from outside and it's not
even midnight yet. And here I thought you gay dudes
knew how to party! Where's the naked oil-wrestling?
The Jell-o tub? Strip-Twister?"

Well, hell. Somehow, knowing Jeremy was there for a
damned security complaint was even worse than the idea
of the man and his partner bursting in to harass Troy
or... whatever other reason there could have been. Troy
wasn't actually clear on that part, himself. All he knew
was that he was pissed off. Angry. Irritated, annoyed...
disappointed, damn it.

Disappointed? Why the hell would I be...

Because Jeremy wasn't there to see him, Troy realized
then. Or, he was, but not because Jeremy wanted to be
there. Jeremy was there because he'd been dispatched.
He hadn't come looking for the rest of their truncated
kiss or because of anything but work, damn it. "Shit."

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 72

Troy hadn't meant to say that last out loud. He didn't
even know he had until Julian started giggling against
Richard's side. "Oh. Oh, Pauly was right." Troy barely
made out the words, they were so broken by laughter.
"I'm so glad he called. This is hilarious."

Troy's one consolation was that Jeremy seemed as
confused as he was, himself. Even completely baffled,
though, Jeremy was still too hot for Troy's peace of
mind. "No idea," he said to the question he saw in
Jeremy's gaze. Riley, on the other hand, suddenly
snorted.

"Jesus. Okay. Which one of you guys is this Pauly-
dude?" Riley demanded, but he was still grinning. "Yo,
Pauly! Come out, come out, wherever you are! Guess
we all know you won't be in a closet and you're probably
way the hell out already, but where are you, man? Don't
make me start checking I.D.s!"

Jeremy groaned and bowed his head, one hand rising to
scrub his face. "I swear to God, I don't know him. I don't
know him, he's not my friend, and I hope we never get
another disturbance call. Please, God. Just do me that
one favor and I promise I'll never ask you for anything
again."

Troy laughed. He felt sorry for Jeremy, sure, but there
was just no way it wasn't funny, too.

***

Riley really was going to get them both fired, or at least
get some complaints sworn out against them. Jeremy

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 73

was sure of that much. The guy just didn't have an
adequate filter between brain and mouth. Assuming
Riley even has a brain. What the hell is he thinking,
saying shit like that in a house full of gay men?

In a house full of wealthy gay men, judging by the
clothes most of Troy's friends wore. God, Jeremy
figured there was more than enough money on the backs
of the party guests to pay his tuition for the next year,
which translated to Troy's friends being exactly the
wrong group for Riley to piss off. Talk about power-
people. Though Jeremy didn't recognize anyone there,
he didn't have a single doubt that there was enough
money in Troy's house right then to cause serious
problems if the owners of that money so chose.

Fortunately, nobody seemed to be really upset just yet,
but if Riley kept going, who knew what might happen?
And he really should step in, say something to his
partner. That was another thing Jeremy knew. He should
be speaking, even then, in an effort to shut Riley up.
Only problem was... Troy. Troy, standing there with his
arms crossed, chest puffed out, eyes still narrowed and
sharp.

Oh, Troy was laughing, but Jeremy thought he could see
a fair bit of the angry-defensive-annoyed from moments
earlier still stiffening the man's body. It was actually
kind of hot.

"Pauly," Troy announced on the tail ends of Riley's last
verbal eruption, "I'll point you out if you don't man-up
and show yourself. You know I will. And your men will
help."

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 74

The next thing Jeremy knew, Troy's posture relaxed, the
crossed arms dropping as Pauly -- the same study-in-
browns guy Jeremy remembered from earlier that day --
pushed through the partiers, a smug grin on his face.

"They'll help you do what, exactly?" Pauly asked,
laughing a little, a large glass of something that was
undoubtedly alcoholic held in one hand. "Punish me for
making a phone call and breaking up what I'm sure was
a seemingly endless exercise in monotony for young
Jeremy and his hottie of a partner? Don't make me
laugh. This is Hartford on a Monday night. And nothing
ever happens in this part of town, not even on the
weekends, which this most definitely isn't."

The sad part was that Pauly was kind of right, though
Jeremy didn't say so. Riley, on the other hand, didn't
seem to have a problem. It wasn't exactly a shock,
though there was something a little strange in Riley's
voice that Jeremy couldn't define when the guy spoke.

"Pauly, man, you got that right. Jer wouldn't even listen
when I tried to tell him about this contortionist I bagged
last night. It's tragic, y'know?" Then Riley seemed to
realize that Troy, the two guys on the couch and a
number of others were listening, as well as Pauly, and
Jeremy was actually stunned to see his friend blush.
"But you can't just call in complaints, man. This was
two in a row, between last week and tonight. Not that I
think you called last time, but don't do it again. Keep it
up and dispatch is gonna start sending the cops. But
maybe that's your thing, right? Hand cuffs and billy
clubs. Real cops who can arrest you?"

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 75

At least Pauly had the grace to look ashamed. Not a lot,
but enough that Jeremy was slightly mollified. "I know,"
the man said on a sigh. "It's just that after the way Troy
got all snarly when Jeremy--"

"We should probably finish talking about this outside,"
Troy interrupted, his darted gaze at Jeremy sending a
shiver down Jeremy's spine. "It's a party, after all. And
since it's my house, I think. Yeah. Outside."

Jeremy shrugged but he turned toward the front door, his
steps measured and sure as he approached it. He told
himself he was imagining the sensation of Troy's eyes
on his ass, even while he hoped it was less wishful
thinking and more intuition. He wanted Troy's eyes on
his ass, after all. Badly. Even with still being a good bit
frightened by the way he wanted Troy, by the intensity
of his own desire, Jeremy wanted to know Troy was
watching him. He wanted to know that the unexpected,
entirely unreasonable depth of attraction was fully
shared. He was almost sure it was, but feeling those eyes
on his butt would make him that much more certain.

As it turned out, Troy's eyes really were locked on his
ass, as Jeremy discovered when they got outside. Troy's
eyes were so very fixed, the blond nearly fell down the
two small steps from the front door to the walkway. In
an unfortunate twist of fate, Riley was the one who
noticed Troy stumbling and managed to pull the man
back, leaving Jeremy caught between being pissed off
that Riley couldn't control his mouth and glad that the
guy had managed to keep Troy from injuring himself.
Shit.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 76

Then Jeremy realized it wasn't just Pauly behind Riley,
but two other men, as well. They looked vaguely
familiar, though it took a moment before it clicked. They
were the same guys he'd seen the week before -- the
ones who'd shown up with Pauly to keep Troy company
on the night of the broken door.

"Um, hey." Jeremy offered up a smile and a nod,
deliberately keeping himself from looking at Troy. "I'm
Jeremy Nelson. Safe Haven Security. The rude jerk,
there, is my partner, Riley."

Riley snorted and rolled his eyes, which had the usual
effect of making Jeremy chuckle. "Abrams. Riley
Abrams. So, who are you guys and which one of you's
putting it to Pauly? I guess it could be neither but I don't
know why else you'd be out here right now. Not that I
blame you. I guess he's kinda hot, for a dude. He looks
like a fun one, anyway. I bet he screams real nice for
you."

"Okay, how the hell does he do that?" Jeremy turned to
find Troy standing right beside him, staring with
obvious fascination as Pauly introduced himself and the
two men with him, who both seemed to be Pauly's
lovers. "I mean, every word out of his mouth is… God, I
don't know. But somehow, no one seems to mind. It's
bizarre."

Jeremy tried not to react to Troy's baffled tone, though
there was something incredibly appealing about the
man's obvious befuddlement. His cock thought so, too,
doing its best to give Troy a little wave hello, even
through Jeremy's underwear and hideous work pants.
God, the last thing he needed was to be fully erect while

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 77

on duty, but damned if Jeremy could help it. He'd been
close to half-hard from the moment he and Riley had
walked into Troy's house.

"He's just one of those people," Jeremy finally
murmured, his lips mere inches from Troy's ear though
he had no recollection of moving closer. "I'm always
amazed that his mouth doesn't get him into more trouble
than he can handle."

No matter how quiet Jeremy thought his voice had been,
it obviously wasn't quiet enough because Pauly heard
him. Heard and laughed, and God, how much could any
one guy laugh? It was like Pauly's entire emotional
spectrum involved only chuckles and sniggers and
borderline giggles.

"Oh, honey. With a mouth like that, attached to that
body? I'd be willing to give him all sorts of trouble. Just
to see what he did with it." Pauly winked and the next
thing Jeremy knew, Pauly's friends -- boyfriends,
whatever -- had dragged the man back to stand between
them.

One of the men spoke, though Jeremy didn't know
which. He'd been murmuring in Troy's ear when the men
had introduced themselves a few moments earlier. "And
that would be the sign that our Pauly's had enough to
drink." The man's dark-eyed gaze met Jeremy's and the
guy offered up a half-smile. "He won't crank-call your
company again. I can promise you that much."

"Just have Troy let us know if there's some sort of fine
or whatever," the other man suggested. "Randy and I
will see to it that it gets paid. And Pauly won't be

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 78

offering up anything to either of you. He's spoken for,
which he already knows. He's just a horrible flirt."

Well, there was clearly some sort of story there, but
Jeremy didn't care enough to pry. Even if he'd been
interested in finding out, Pauly and his two lovers were
already heading back into the house, Pauly's muttered
"Sorry!" barely making it to Jeremy's ears before the
door closed.

Riley's punch to Jeremy's shoulder was only unexpected
because Jeremy hadn't been looking at the guy. Instead,
he'd been staring at that closed door with one brow
raised at the hasty retreat. Even so, Jeremy refused to let
himself react with anything more than a snort and, "I'm
pretty sure even your Aunt Edna could hit harder than
that."

"Duh. Aunt Edna's dangerous, man. Uncle Peter, on the
other hand, hits like a girl, which makes sense, if you
think about it." Riley grinned at him, and probably at
Troy, as well, but whatever. "How cool is it that Pauly's
butt-buddies hauled him off like that? Hey, do you think
they thought I'd take him up on it? Because, no way! But
I guess they have a point. If I was gonna go rump-
ranger, that Pauly-dude would totally be my type." Then
Riley looked straight at Troy. "Okay, man. Check it out.
Jeremy likes you and I'm guessing the wood you're
sporting means it's a mutual thing. And hey, that's cool.
Fuck knows Jeremy needs his pipes cleaned; probably
more than once. So I'll be in the patrol car. You guys
figure your shit out, okay? Just don't take all night."

Jeremy was still blinking when Riley walked away.
Troy was, too. In fact, neither of them spoke for a good

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 79

ten seconds. The slamming of the patrol car's door
seemed to shake them from their stunned and motionless
silence, though, because Troy shook his head and leaned
against Jeremy's side, which Jeremy didn't mind at all.

"Did he seriously just suggest that we should... I don't
even know how to say it without sounding crass."

Jeremy nodded slowly, looking down the two and a bit
inches into Troy's eyes. "Apparently, we're supposed to
fuck now. Really quickly and publicly. Um. Not that
there's anything wrong with fast, but I have a feeling
we'd offend your neighbors." And okay, that was really
not what Jeremy had expected to hear coming from his
own mouth.

Troy looked nearly as surprised as Jeremy was, but the
man rallied easily and grinned, green eyes shining in the
limited light from the fixture beside the front door. "I'm
not entirely sure that I'd care. I do want you. I can't even
pretend I don't."

It sounded like an admission. Not a reluctant one, really,
just... like Troy had decided to be blunt about it. "I.
Yeah." It wasn't as though Jeremy could deny it, after
all. "We should. I don't know. Something. Soon."

"You should come back here when your shift is over,"
Troy murmured, leaning harder against him and Jeremy
groaned quietly, his eyes closing. "We need to finish
that kiss from before."

There were a wealth of things that Jeremy heard in that
simple statement. Desire, blatant and raw. Heat, already
building again. Need, visceral and primal and rough...

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and the knowledge that there would be no 'finishing' of
their kiss. That it would never be just a kiss but would
lead to much, much more.

Jeremy swallowed hard, biting his bottom lip for a
second before meeting Troy's eyes again. "I have early
classes tomorrow. I. God, I really, really want to take
you up on that, Troy. I do. But..."

Troy sighed, low and rough. "Fine. Well, not fine,
exactly, but okay. When can we." Another sigh that
echoed the last. "I haven't been able to get you out of my
mind. And I don't do relationships, but I'm pretty sure I
want more than just a night, Jeremy. No, forget the
'pretty' part of that. I'm sure."

Jeremy nodded, his eyes still locked on misty-green.
"Kind of came out of nowhere, but yeah. I. Maybe we
could -- you know what? We can talk about that later. I.
Why don't you call me? Or I'll call you. I can get your
number from work."

"God." Troy grinned, the curve of lips looking wry as all
get-out. "I think you've had my number from the second
we first met. But go ahead and call me. I'm in the book
if the security company doesn't want to give up the
goods."

"So am I," Jeremy murmured his hands clenching into
fists to keep them from grabbing on to Troy. "And if I
don't go now, I never will, so..."

"Go." Troy nodded and leaned up and for a moment,
Jeremy thought the man was going to kiss him. Then
Troy shifted a little and those soft, warm lips brushed

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Jeremy's cheek instead of his mouth. It was a
disappointment but also a relief. And it still sent a small
shudder of longing through Jeremy's body.

"I'll call," Jeremy promised as he took a careful step
back, allowing the cool night air to move between them.
"Soon, Troy. I'll call soon."

"So will I. Soon."

There was nothing else to say, really, so Jeremy just
smiled a little and adjusted himself in his polyester-
blend uniform pants, then turned away to join Riley in
the Safe Haven Security patrol car, mentally preparing
himself for more of Riley's unique style of ribbing.

He did look back as he opened the car door, and
something deep in his gut tightened at the sight of Troy
still standing where Jeremy had left him, one hand over
the bulge in the front of Troy's pants while Troy's other
hand was raised, fingers over those soft lips.

It was an image Jeremy filed away in his memory for
later, when he was home, alone in his cold, otherwise
empty bed.

"Oh, man. You are so fucking screwed." Riley smirked
as Jeremy folded himself into the passenger seat and
closed the door, fastening his safety belt. "Or your
boyfriend will be. Whatever. Hey, how do gay guys
figure that out? Who's the fucker and who's the fuckee?
Is there some kinda code or something? Because that
would be cool. And weird. But still cool."

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Riley's questions went on for a good five minutes,
though Jeremy figured the guy was just running his
mouth, as usual, because he wasn't actually waiting for
any answers. When the words prostate and massage
came into play, Jeremy couldn't help interrupting.

"Wait. Why do you even know about massaging
prostates? Are you sure you're straight? Or... oh, God.
You've got the hots for Pauly!" Jeremy was kidding, of
course, but he hoped the question might shut Riley up. It
didn't.

"Dude! Seriously? I met this chick a few months ago
and she did this thing while we were fucking..."

Oh, God help me, Jeremy thought with a silent groan.
But at least he's not asking about the 'gay experience'
anymore.

It wasn't much consolation, but Jeremy would take it.
Because he would rather hear about Riley's exploits than
spend the rest of the night fielding the guy's questions
about Troy and him and sex. God.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 83

Chapter Seven

"So what are you doing?" Okay, possibly not the most
polite way to answer the phone, but Troy didn't much
care about polite right then. In the three days since
Monday night's party, he'd spoken to Jeremy all of
twice. Neither time had been particularly lengthy, but
that made sense. The were only a limited number of
hours between Jeremy's classes and the time he needed
to report for work, and studying was essential, as Troy
recalled very clearly from his own college days. That
didn't mean he liked how short their conversations were,
by necessity or not.

Jeremy chuckled and even through the phone, the sound
raced directly from Troy's ear to his cock. "I'm about to
jump in the shower before work," he answered. "I had to
finish up that paper when I got home last night, so I
overslept this morning and didn't have time. How about
you?"

Troy looked down at the pages he'd printed from the
Best's Fine Furnishings and Antiques website and
frowned. "Just work stuff. Mrs. Charles Wiltshire -- of
the Manhattan Wiltshires, as she's so fond of reminding
me -- has decided to change her mind about the parlor in
the family's Hartford house. Again. So I'm seeing
whether I can find new furnishings that can been gotten
either on or under budget and before deadline. I'd much
rather hear about your shower."

"What about it?" Jeremy sounded confused. "It's a
shower. Water, soap, maybe some shampoo. Nothing
unusual, you know?"

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"I'm more interested in what you plan on doing in there.
With the soap and hot water." Troy licked his suddenly
dry lips. "Are you going to touch yourself, Jeremy?
Maybe while you think about me?"

A soft groan echoed through the connection and Troy
closed his eyes. "Are you already naked, Jeremy? Are
you hard from thinking about it?"

"I wasn't," Jeremy muttered. "And you're evil for
mentioning it, by the way. Especially when you know I
need to be at work in an hour."

Troy smiled a little, even though Jeremy couldn't see it.
"It's your own fault," he said softly. "The minute you
said 'shower,' all I could think about was you being
naked and wet and hard. I think I'd like to see that." He
would. A lot. Repeatedly. And he was tired of waiting,
damn it. Not just to share a shower, but tired of waiting
to really touch Jeremy. Tired of waiting for the sensation
of Jeremy's hands on his skin.

"God. Okay. Sorry. I... what are you doing on Saturday,
Troy?" Jeremy sounded nervous, all of a sudden, which
was a little bit strange but also sort of flattering. "I, um. I
don't have classes or work on the weekends and I'll need
to study at some point but I was thinking maybe we
could do something on Saturday. If you're not busy. You
know. With your friends, I mean. Or work. I guess you
need to work, right? Sorry. I. Fuck!"

It shouldn't be so damned adorable that Jeremy was
flustered. It shouldn't have Troy feeling all warm and
fuzzy inside, for God's sake. Yet it did. That didn't stop

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him from teasing Jeremy, but still. "I hope so," Troy
replied with a quiet laugh. "If you don't fuck, I'll have to
start calling you a tease. Uh, I don't mean we have to do
that on Saturday, but you know. Sometime." Christ, he
sounded like a schoolboy now. It was sad.

"I think we do have to do that on Saturday," Jeremy
answered and he didn't sound so nervous anymore,
though Troy couldn't figure out why. "And I guess
you're not busy after all. So, good. Okay. We'll... do
that. On Saturday. Or if you're really not busy, I could
come by after work tomorrow night. If you'd be cool
with me staying over."

Troy's eyes flew open at that, a small shiver racing down
and then up his spine. He couldn't determine the cause
of that discomfort in himself any more than he'd been
able to figure out Jeremy's sudden calm, but he was
definitely feeling some anxiety. Even so, there was
something about the idea that was appealing. A late
shower with Jeremy, then however many hours they
could stay awake, spent rolling around in Troy's sheets.
Sleep and coffee, maybe some eggs, then repeat it again,
but at greater length. Yeah, Troy could do that. Anxiety
or not, he could definitely handle a night of Jeremy,
followed by a morning of the same.

"I'd love to have a sleepover with you," Troy managed
to say, right before the silence went on too long. "But I'll
have to ask my Mom first," he teased before
remembering that Jeremy's mother had abandoned her
son. Shit! What if he thinks I'm being an asshole or
something? The surprising part for Troy was that he
actually cared.

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Thankfully, Jeremy took it as the joke it was, though his
promise to bring a sleeping bag and jammies was a little
weak. "Um, okay. I guess I'll see you then. Tomorrow
night. I. It'll be late. After two."

Troy smiled to himself. "That's fine. I'll see you then. I
guess you should go ahead and get in the shower now. I
might do that, too, what with being hard as rock just
from thinking about tomorrow night."

"I. Oh, fuck. Okay. Bye, Troy. I. Bye."

The sad part wasn't how desperate Jeremy had sounded
when he ended the call, Troy told himself a few minutes
later, as he stood beneath the pounding spray of his own
shower, one liquid-soap-slicked hand sliding on his
cock. It was that hearing that need in Jeremy's voice had
sent another surge of lust to Troy's dick. He could barely
imagine what it would be like when Jeremy was there
with him, touching and being touched.

Troy only hoped he wouldn't embarrass himself by
coming as quickly as he was about to do, right then.

***

Jeremy spent the time between his last phone call with
Troy and the end of his Friday night shift alternating
between excited and worried. He'd been that way the
night before, too, to the point that Riley had managed to
figure out something was up. Jeremy hadn't clued him
in, though. He couldn't when he wasn't sure what was
actually happening.

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Oh, he was going to spend the night at Troy's. Jeremy
didn't have any doubt about that, not even on Friday. He
hadn't considered cancelling, even once. But he didn't
know whether he and Troy were starting something real
or if it was just going to be a thing. Some sort of
together-until-the-fire-burns-out thing. Hell, he didn't
even know if they were going to be exclusive until
whatever it was ran its course. That wasn't the
worrisome part, though. No, what worried Jeremy was
that he wasn't sure if he cared.

Well, I care. I don't want us to be just a fling, he thought,
staring out the window of the Safe Haven Security
patrol car at the parking lot outside the company's main
office. And I don't want us -- either of us -- to be
sleeping around. But I don't care that I don't know for
sure, going in, and that's not normal for me, damn it.

It really wasn't. Jeremy liked things to be carefully
planned and arranged ahead of time. He liked knowing
where he stood, for God's sake. But he didn't have a
clue, this time, which could be either good or bad. He
wasn't sure. All he did know was that Troy Ballard was
different. There was something about the man that had
Jeremy ready, willing and able to throw caution to the
wind and just forge ahead, hoping for the best but
steeled for the worst. The uncertainty didn't impact his
desires at all. That was the part that worried him, scared
him, whatever.

"Dude!" Riley's voice coming through the open window
of the patrol car jarred Jeremy from his thoughts. "Our
'nothing happened all night long because this is the
boringest part of town ever' forms are filed. You can
probably get your ass out of the car now and go home."

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Jeremy blushed and Riley smirked. "Or haul ass to
whoever's home you're going to. Because I looked in the
back seat of your car, man, and if that's not an overnight
kinda bag in there, you have a really fucking weird
backpack. Which you don't because I've seen your
school bag before. So, you planning on getting lucky
tonight? I'm guessing it's with that Ballard guy, right?"

Jeremy groaned and put one hand over his eyes. It didn't
stop him from blushing, but at least he didn't have to see
Riley's smug grin any longer. "Shut up," he grunted and
Riley just snorted.

"Seriously, man. It's about time. I don't get it, though. I
mean, I thought all you gay guys fucked like rabbits, but
you're all saint-like, most of the time. Shit, if I swung
your way, I'd have fucked you and Ballard by now.
Probably that Pauly dude and his two ass-jockey
buddies, too."

"That's because you're a slut," Jeremy grumbled,
peeking out between his own fingers to find an honestly
curious look on Riley's face. "I'm amazed you're not bi,
considering how much you talk about sex and men's
asses all the time. But we're friends, so I'll let you in on
a little secret, Riley."

Riley's brows shot up and the guy leaned farther into the
car through the window. "Yeah? Will it translate to
straight-guy shit? Because I'm supposed to see Jessie
again tomorrow, but I think she's getting tired of me
already."

Jeremy snorted, his hand dropping into his lap. "The
secret is... there's not really any big difference. Between

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gay and straight and bi. Some people like to fuck around
a lot. Some people like relationships. And some people
are serial-monogamists. Gay guys are just like straight
guys, aside from that whole liking cock thing. A lot of
us -- or them, since I technically swing -- fuck around a
lot for a while, then decide to settle down, okay? Yeah,
there are little differences that are gender-based, but on
the whole, people are just... people. Gender-orientation,
personal preferences, sexual practices and all. We're all
just people. That's it. The big fucking secret, man."

"So what makes you decide to settle down?" Riley still
looked curious, but it seemed sharper, somehow. More
immediate. "What I mean is, how do you know when it's
time to stop fucking around and try having a
relationship. Capital-R-relationship, man."

Jeremy blinked and opened the car door, then climbed
out and closed it before leaning against the chassis, his
arms crossed on the roof. "Okay, it almost sounds like
you really like this girl. I'm pretty sure Riley Abrams
asking about monogamy is one of the signs of the
Apocalypse. Should I be scared?" He arched a brow.

Riley snorted. "You're fucking hilarious. I just... she's
really cool, man. And I told you about how flexible she
is. The other night, she did this thing where she--"

"Don't tell me!" Jeremy knew he'd yelped the words but
he didn't care. "I mean it, Riley! Don't give me any more
details, especially if you think you're going to be seeing
her for a while. Because if you do end up dating her, I'll
eventually have to meet her and the last thing I need is
any more graphic images of what you two do together.
Besides, it sort of makes me sick, okay?"

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Riley's smirk came back. "Yeah, I knew that whole 'I'm
bi' thing was a crock of shit. You just hate hearing about
the guy-girl fucking."

Jeremy sighed and shook his head. "No, that's not it.
Um, remember I told you my mom works for a circus?
Well, it's the Festival of the Moon circus. She was a
gymnast when she was young. A good one, too. She
almost went to the Olympics. Twice. So, once I was old
enough to stay with my grandmother without requiring
too much supervision, she let the Moon people recruit
her. Now she's in her mid forties and helps train their
contortionists. So, basically? Every time you tell me
about some really flexible thing this Jessie's done with
you, it reminds me of my mom and it's kind of
nauseating, okay?"

Riley stared for a moment, wide-eyed. Then he
shuddered. "Oh, man. That's fucked up. But I bet she's
hot. Your mom, I mean. Must be a total MILF,
especially if she looks anything like you. But cool. No
more details about Jessie. Got it. Hey, if that doesn't
work out, can I get your Mom's number?" He smirked
more.

"Oh, God. You have officially made me ill, now. I might
puke." Jeremy was only slightly kidding. "Just... if you
like this Jessie, try not to be a raging asshole. And if you
think you want to see just her and stop fucking around,
then say so. Worst she can do is say no, right?" Jeremy
shrugged.

"Whatever, dude. I could have figured that much out on
my own. Duh. So go do whatever you're gonna do."

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Riley smiled, easy and plain, no smirkiness about it, this
time. "Thanks for the talk and everything, but I'm not
gonna be the reason you're any later than you have to be.
Might as well bite the bullet -- or the butt, I guess -- and
haul ass on over to Ballard's."

Jeremy blushed, silently admitting that he'd been
stalling. He wasn't sure why, except when he got to
Troy's everything would move from the realm of the
possible into the world of the actual. "Yeah. Okay.
Night, Riley. I guess I'll see you Monday."

The man snorted for probably the fiftieth time since
they'd started their shift that night. Jeremy figured Riley
was lucky that his snorts didn't sound even remotely pig-
like.

"Yeah, but you better fucking call me tomorrow, dude.
And just so you know, if that guy Ballard hurts you? I
got your back, man. Fucker won't even know what hit
him." Riley's brow furrowed for a moment before
clearing. "Okay, yes, he will. I'll bet my fist's hard to
miss since it's connected to the rest of me. Later, dude."

What a weird fucking night. And it was only going to
get weirder, Jeremy was sure, because while he was
honestly looking forward to seeing Troy, touching Troy,
and finishing their kiss of nearly a week earlier, going to
some guy's house and planning to stay over without any
idea of whether the sex would lead to something more?
Well, that wasn't something Jeremy had done in years.

Still, he had a feeling it was going to be worth it. Even if
Troy ended whatever they were doing in a week or two,
it would definitely be worth it. After as good as their

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half-kiss had been, Jeremy couldn't imagine actual sex
with Troy being anything but.

***

"You're here." Troy couldn't help sounding out of
breath. He was, after all. Not from running or too much
time on the stair-climber, but just plain old breathless
from anticipation. It had only gotten worse when he'd
seen Jeremy's car pulling up out front, small bits of air
escaping his lungs with each step the guy took on the
front walk.

Hearing the soft slap-slap-slap of Jeremy's shoes as he
mounted the front steps hadn't helped, either, what with
Troy's sudden conviction that something was going to
happen to end things before they got started again. Like
a meteor falling from the sky or a swarm of locusts.
Maybe an earthquake. Something to stop him from
opening the door and letting Jeremy in. Hell, by the time
Troy's hand had found the knob and pulled the front
door open, he was amazed that he was still upright,
considering the difficulty he was having drawing breath.

"Inside," Troy gasped. "Hurry." He helped, too, by
shooting one hand out to grab at Jeremy's uniform shirt
and pull him closer. One more tug while Jeremy didn't
fight him but looked both confused and amused, then
Troy was able to close the door and flip the locks. His
breathing eased, then. "Oh, thank God. And that was
probably kind of bizarre, wasn't it? Uh, sorry. I was just.
I don't know." He didn't know much at all, really, other
than being fully aware of the fact that while his lungs
were working again, his brain clearly wasn't. Which
might have something to do with most of the blood in

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his body racing toward his groin like it was a finish line
in need of crossing. "Hi..."

"Hey." Jeremy dropped the bag Troy hadn't noticed until
it hit the floor. "Um. Okay, this feels weird." He looked
a little uncomfortable, too. He also looked a whole lot
turned on, though, and that was the important part, as far
as Troy was concerned.

Troy bit his own bottom lip and released his hold on
Jeremy's shirt, smoothing the fabric lightly for a moment
before sliding his hand quickly down to cover the front
of the polyester-blend uniform pants. He moaned at the
hard swell he found there. "No. No, I wouldn't say it
feels weird, honey."

Jeremy's eyes went wide for just a split second, then
narrowed, and Troy somehow managed to catch one
short breath before that mouth slammed over his, hard
and strong. And God, it was nothing like the half-kiss of
five days earlier. It wasn't even in the same realm. There
was nothing even slightly tentative about it, and that was
a good thing. They could play around with being bashful
or whatever later. If they felt like it. Right then, though,
Troy didn't want shy or hesitant or anything but what
Jeremy was giving him.

Heat. God, he felt like he was in heat. There was just
something about waiting almost two damned weeks to
touch Jeremy, to feel that taller, somewhat bulkier body
pressed tight against him that had Troy completely
losing his mind. Touching Jeremy, kissing Jeremy...
Jeremy's tongue, right there and pushing deep into
Troy's mouth, tangling with his own. Teeth he could
map, just as his fingers were trying to map Jeremy's

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chest, but, "Too many clothes," Troy grated out on a
gasp. "Shit, honey!"

"Uh-huh." Jeremy's grunted agreement sounded raw,
strained. It was good, though. Hot. But not as hot as
Jeremy's hands when they pulled Troy's T-shirt up and
off a moment later. Troy didn't know or care where the
cotton landed. He had better things to think about, like
Jeremy's skin becoming more visible with each uniform-
shirt button Troy released. "Troy..."

Oh, yeah. That was desperation in Jeremy's voice. Bare,
naked want. And fuck the stupid shirt. He'd buy Jeremy
a new one if he had to. It would be worth it. Except
Jeremy's work shirt was made of sterner stuff than Troy
expected and resisted his efforts to be manly by ripping
it open hard enough for the buttons to scatter. Instead, he
tugged roughly and the damned shirt just laughed at
him. Silently and without a mouth, but Troy could hear
the damned thing laughing. And the buttons on the two
chest pockets were watching him with smug satisfaction,
damn it.

"Okay, I'm getting delusional. Christ, just get naked,
already!" Troy followed his own order, quickly
unfastening his jeans and pushing them down over his
narrow hips and tensed ass. Thank God Jeremy didn't
ask about his delusion, but judging by the speed Jeremy
used in getting that damned mocking shirt undone, then
the pants that probably would have smirked at Troy, too,
Jeremy didn't care.

Words echoed in Troy's skull when he finally saw
Jeremy fully nude. Oh, God, and Tasty, and Yes! He
didn't say any of them. He couldn't. He was far too busy

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trying to crawl into Jeremy from the mouth down, his
tongue sliding against its match and savoring the
uniquely citrus flavor he remembered from the last time,
when they'd only sort-of kissed. This was much more
than sort-of, though. This was... sex. Even with only
their tongues in each others mouths, it was sex already,
and Troy knew it.

Jeremy seemed to know it, too, because he was feeding
little moans and grunts into Troy's mouth and his hands
had somehow found their way to Troy's ass, fingers
flexing, digging into muscle and relaxing. Jeremy felt
hotter to Troy, suddenly. Fiery-hot and hard and tense,
his strong thighs flexing against Troy's. Jeremy's dick
was obviously thick and wet already, pressing
rhythmically against Troy's abdomen, the tip brushing
his navel.

Troy was even harder, but that didn't surprise him. Hell,
he thought he'd been hard since Jeremy suggested their
sleepover. And while he had only imagined them being
so ready and needy that they didn't make it much past
the door, he couldn't complain. All he could do without
stopping things -- and that wasn't going to happen; not
when he finally had Jeremy there and naked -- was push
harder against Jeremy's skin, his own hands on Jeremy's
shoulders.

He could walk Jeremy backwards the three or so steps to
the front door, too. He could take their kiss harder,
Troy's body moving, rocking against solid heat and soft
skin and tight, toned muscles. And when Jeremy
groaned, long and deep into Troy's mouth, his body
arching back and forth between the door behind him and
Troy in front of him, Troy found that he could pull away

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from Jeremy's hungry, wanton mouth for long enough to
mumble "Yes. Do it, honey," before losing himself in
lips and tongue and teeth again.

"Ah!" Troy swallowed Jeremy's gasp and returned one
of his own as Jeremy's intensified shaking and the
sensation of slick, hot fluids spreading between them
triggered Troy's reaction, speeding it along by a good
two or three seconds.

His hips stuttered, rocked again, jabbed forward and
ground his spilling cock against Jeremy's, and it was
good. So fucking good. "Oh, God."

Jeremy was slow in answering, but Troy was fine with
that. Especially when he opened his eyes and saw the
dazed expression on Jeremy's face. It was a damned
good look on him. Temporarily sated and completely
fuck-drugged. Troy was pretty sure he wore a matching
expression, too. It would make sense because that was
pretty much how he felt. For the moment, anyway. Still,
"You okay?" Troy murmured, leaning in to press his lips
lightly to the side of Jeremy's neck.

"Jesus." Yeah, Jeremy even sounded fuck-drugged. It
was so damned cool. "That was... I think I need to sit
down."

Troy laughed. Just a quiet little burble, but he knew
Jeremy heard it. Maybe even felt it, they were pressed so
close together. "If you need to sit down, honey, you're
doing much better than I am. I'm thinking more about
lying down, myself. With you, if we can make it to the
bedroom."

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One of Jeremy's hands left his ass and started a slow
path up Troy's spine. It was nice. Simple. "I'm pretty
sure I can manage that if you're willing to promise me a
shower. Or maybe just some wet-wipes. I'm kind of
sticky."

"And that makes two of us." Troy leaned back a bit, his
hands still on Jeremy's shoulders, groin still tight against
all that heat, wet and sticky as it might be. A fair portion
of the mess was Troy's, so he couldn't really bitch about
it. Besides, it was the good kind of messy, not the 'I just
spilled my Bloody Mary on your new, antique Oriental
rug, oops,' variety, and Troy kind of liked it. With
Jeremy, he liked it. "Come on, honey. We'll have that
shower. Or if you don't mind a bath, I have the deepest
soaking tub I've ever seen."

"Oh..." Jeremy's reply was almost a moan. "God, I
would kill for a decent bath. The tubs at my place are
good, but they're not really deep enough. Or long
enough. I think people were shorter when they were
made."

Troy steeled himself to stepping back, to losing contact
with Jeremy, even for a short while. He shivered a little
at the coolness of the air against his skin. "Well, grab
your bag and come on," he suggested. "Just leave our
dirty clothes here. I'll throw them in the wash in the
morning. Later this morning. Whatever. After we wake
up."

Jeremy nodded, his eyes hooded, and Troy wondered
whether a bath would put the guy completely to sleep.
He looked exhausted. Then again, so was Troy. "We'll
make it a quick bath tonight," he said as he started the

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tub filling just a couple minutes later. "I don't think
either of us wants to drown."

A yawn cracked Jeremy's jaw as he took Troy's hand
and climbed into the tub to join him. "Not yet, anyway.
Want to feel you in me sometime before I die." He
yawned again and leaned against Troy, who didn't mind
in the slightest.

"Mmm," Troy hummed, warm water swirling around
them as he turned off the tap. "I'm pretty sure that can be
arranged. Now, let's get nice and clean, okay? We'll get
all sweaty and sticky again, in the morning."

Jeremy smiled and shifted just enough to nip Troy's
shoulder, pulling a surprised but pleased gasp from him.
"I'm looking forward to it," Jeremy said with yet another
yawn, and Troy got down to soaping his favorite bath
puff and getting them clean. There was a big, warm bed
waiting for them, after all, with clean sheets and soft
blankets.

Let no one say Troy Ballard didn't know how to do a
sleepover right; least of all Jeremy, who Troy honestly
hoped would want to stay over more than once.

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Chapter Eight

Jeremy woke up warm, which was unusual for him.
Generally, he swam up from the depths of sleep to find
that he'd kicked off his blankets, the temperature that
had seemed just right when he'd drifted off, wrapped in
batting-filled cotton feeling a tiny bit too cool without it.
Not this day, though.

He turned, stretching a bit as he made a quiet, contented
sound when the sheets slid across his naked skin. And
wait. He was naked. Why was he...

It came rushing back, then.

Troy. Skin. Kisses that had more than lived up to the
dreams Jeremy had had.

Coming harder than he could remember doing since he
was a teenager, if then. And the bath, with Troy's hands
on him, sliding over Jeremy's skin, cleansing and
relaxing and so damned attentive, no matter that they'd
both been yawning and -- in Jeremy's case -- mere
minutes away from sleep.

Jeremy figured he should be nervous, now that it was
morning and he and Troy hadn't talked at all, aside from
more and yes and good. He still didn't have a single clue
about what they were doing, so yeah. He should be
stressed or something, but he wasn't; not even a little bit.
What he was, was comfortable. Troy's bed was a good
one, with the perfect combination of firm and soft, but
somehow Jeremy didn't think that was why. He was

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fairly sure it was the fact that it was Troy's that made it
so comfortable.

"Well, that and the way he left me alone here," Jeremy
murmured to himself as he finished stretching, his
muscles tingling from the slow but extended motions.
That was true, too, though Jeremy knew some men
would be offended at waking up by themselves in
someone else's bed for the first time. Not him. Instead,
he felt flattered, in a way -- that Troy trusted him
enough to leave him sleeping in what was anyone's most
private area -- and grateful that he'd had a moment or
three to wake up and get his brain on track. It felt...
Jeremy didn't know what, exactly, but good didn't quite
cover it.

Or else, he qualified silently after a look at the clock
beside the bed, Troy had gotten tired of waiting for him
to wake up. It was possible, what with it being almost
noon, for God's sake. Jeremy was usually up and out of
the house by ten on Saturday mornings. "Then again, I
don't usually 'exert' myself that much on Friday night."
He chuckled at his own words as he kicked back the
covers and rolled from the bed.

The bag he'd brought with him, which Jeremy clearly
remembered dropping in the entryway the night before,
had somehow managed to make its way up to Troy's
bedroom because it was sitting on the floor just inside
the door. A navy blue terry cloth robe lay draped over
the chair nearby, along with a clean red towel and
washcloth, apparently left there for Jeremy's use.

"I could get used to this," Jeremy murmured as he
grabbed his bag, as well as the things Troy had left.

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"Comfortable bed, hot guy who likes me. What's not to
enjoy? Oh, and modern plumbing." He added the last to
the list once he'd stepped into the bathroom, this time
without the haze of exhaustion and an explosive orgasm
dimming his mind. "I could totally get used to more
modern plumbing."

He quickly opened his bag, pulling out toothbrush and
razor and setting aside the pair of boxer-briefs he'd
packed. The robe seemed to be an invitation to stay very
casual, after all, so Jeremy's jeans and T-shirt could stay
folded up for the time being. Besides, he was hoping
that he wouldn't need them just yet. The robe would be
much easier to get out of, if all went as Jeremy wanted it
to.

A minute or so of closed eyes and relaxation let Jeremy
piss, deflating the morning wood he'd woken with. It
was almost a shame, but he'd be damned if he was going
to jerk off in the shower when Troy was in the house
somewhere. Besides which, Jeremy was young. He
sincerely doubted he'd have any trouble getting it up
later. Hopefully with Troy somewhere closer, like
touching him. After their rubbing and kissing and
grunting of the night before, Jeremy didn't really feel
like getting himself off. The idea of waiting until Troy
was with him held much more appeal.

He would be back to his own hands soon enough,
because who knew how long this whole thing with Troy
would last? When it ended, Jeremy knew he'd have
plenty of time for masturbation.

"Oh, and that's not depressing. At all. God." He
chuckled a little bit as he got out of the shower and dried

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off. It took less than five minutes to brush his teeth and
shave, then he pulled on his underwear and slipped into
the robe Troy had left for him. He frowned slightly as he
belted it, because either Troy's robe was far too big for
Troy or it was some sort of left-over from someone else.
"Or it's something he keeps around for all his...
sleepover guests. I don't know which one of those bugs
me more. Shit."

He also didn't know why either of the latter two options
would bother him. He liked Troy, sure. More than
Jeremy had liked anyone in a long time. But they were
very new, and maybe wouldn't ever have the chance to
be something old. He'd known that, going in. What he
didn't know was why he was getting so bothered, except,
yeah. He liked Troy. A lot. Enough that it could easily
become something more than liking. On his own part,
anyway. The question was whether Troy thought so, too.
Assuming Troy had given it any thought at all.

"Only one way to find out," Jeremy told his reflection,
giving himself a sharp nod in the mirror. "Find him and
ask. Good thing it's not that big of a house."

***

Troy started a fresh pot of coffee brewing as soon as he
heard the shower start upstairs. He pulled eggs and
turkey bacon from the fridge, sliced two bagels and set
them on the grill in the toaster oven on his counter. Real
butter -- one of his few daily indulgences -- and some of
the blackberry preserves his assistant Percy's grandfather
made every year were set out, along with a bottle of
fresh-squeezed orange juice, real cream -- another daily

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indulgence -- and turbinado sugar. As an afterthought,
he set out the quart bottle of milk, just in case.

"Just in case of what?" His voice was soft under the
mellow instrumental music Troy had selected for that
morning. "In case he doesn't like coffee? Or in case he's
one of those calorie-counting guys I can't stand?"

Troy frowned and poured himself what was probably his
fourth mug of java, though he didn't know for sure.
What he did know was that he'd been awake for almost
three hours and out of bed for two and a half. Jeremy
had been right there beside him, one hand on Troy's
stomach, his head on Troy's shoulder when Troy woke
up. And at first, it had been cool. Kind of sweet, in a
way.

Then Troy caught himself staring at Jeremy's lightly
stubbled cheek, at the long lashes resting against the
smooth skin beneath Jeremy's eyes. He felt his own hand
stroking slowly over Jeremy's ribs. He found himself
reveling in the way Jeremy felt against him and the
small but deep breaths gusting against his clavicle and
Troy had...

To be fair, he hadn't freaked out. Not really. He'd just
been worried, he supposed. Worried that it felt too good.
Too right. Like it had once felt with Julian, and that
whole thing hadn't ended anything like well. And he
knew Jeremy wasn't Julian. The two men couldn't be
any more different if they'd tried, but still. Troy had
needed some time, some space, something to think about
other than what he thought he was starting to feel. So
he'd maneuvered carefully out of Jeremy's hold and
taken a quick shower, freshened himself up for the day

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 104

and pulled on a pair of silk lounging pants before setting
out David's robe and some towels for Jeremy. And okay,
maybe it was a little bit weird to offer his new...
whatever the hell Jeremy was... his brother's robe, but
Troy didn't think David would mind. If he did, then
David could damned well buy another.

None of which was distracting Troy from the fact that
the shower had stopped and Jeremy would likely be
showing up in the kitchen sooner, rather than later.

Troy grimaced and opened the cabinet by the sink,
dragging out a bowl to crack eggs in and a fork from the
nearby drawer to whip said eggs into shape. If only he
could do the same for his emotions.

"Hey."

Troy turned and offered his best smile. "Hey, back. How
did you sleep?"

Jeremy returned the smile though his looked more real
than Troy's felt. "Like a rock, but you probably noticed
that, right?"

Troy nodded, still whipping the eggs with the fork.
"Right. You were kind of dead to the world. I thought
you wouldn't mind sleeping yourself out. You look
good." That was a wild understatement, actually. Jeremy
looked amazing, even in Troy's brother's robe. Better
than David had ever looked in it, and that was saying
something. David shared Troy's coloring, but where
Troy had gotten his build from their mother, David was
their father, top to toe. Taller and broader. Much. Troy
only hoped David's daughter took after her mother in

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that way. Her life would be easier if she didn't end up
shaped like a particularly muscular fireplug, after all.

"God. No joke. Poor girl, if that happens," Jeremy
answered, and it was only then that Troy realized he'd
said more than he'd meant to, out loud. "I. Um, maybe I
shouldn't say this, but I'm glad this is your brother's
robe. I thought. I guess it doesn't matter what I thought,
but yeah. Brother's. It doesn't exactly make me feel sexy,
but I'm cool with it."

This time Jeremy's smile was so much truer and deeper,
Troy didn't know how he'd mistaken the earlier one for
something real. "So, I smell coffee, but what else is on
the menu?" Jeremy arched a brow and Troy swallowed a
moan. "Unless you're just screwing around over there
because you don't want to, you know. Kiss me good
morning or whatever."

Damned if the moan he'd tried to swallow didn't make
itself known, along with a whole new one. God, Troy
couldn't do anything but let them out as he dropped the
fork. It made a noise, stainless steel against granite, so
apparently it had either missed the bowl, or, or what-
fucking-ever. Troy didn't know or care. He was too busy
turning, letting his eyes rake fully down, then up,
Jeremy's terry-cloth-clad body, taking in the bare feet
and lightly-haired calves, the damp, slicked back hair
and stubble-free jaw. The lush lips and warm eyes.

"I'd much rather fuck you good morning, but a kiss
would be a good start." Troy smirked just a little at the
groan Jeremy released. "A kiss," Troy continued, "a
stroke, a something, for fuck's sake."

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He crossed the few feet between them without any
conscious decision to move, but fuck conscious.
Running on automatic seemed to be working for him. It
was working even better when he grabbed Jeremy by the
front of the dark blue robe and dragged him closer, their
bodies pressing tight. "Just like this."

They were the last words to leave his mouth for a while,
or at least the last words that could be recognized as
such. His mutters -- fuck and yes and Jeremy -- seemed
more like random grumbles and groans. But that was
fine, Troy figured. Almost as fine as finding himself on
the kitchen floor with his silk drawstring pants down
around his knees while Jeremy's robe -- not David's
anymore, but Jeremy's, and fuck it, Troy would buy his
brother a new one -- cushioned both him and Jeremy as
they lapped and licked and sucked and touched each
other, soft and rough, gentle and wild, and ultimately too
well for either of them to last long.

And I thought he was inexperienced because he didn't
drink? Jesus fucking Christ! I'm an idiot, Troy told
himself as he waited for his heart to stop racing, for his
chest to stop rising and falling like a bellows.

He ignored, for the moment, the fact that he and Jeremy
had just sucked each other to completion without latex.
It wasn't that big of a deal, from a medical perspective,
after all. Something like point zero-five percent chance
of catching anything if there was anything to catch, the
last Troy had heard. It was still a big step with a new
partner. An intimate step. And he hadn't balked for even
a second. He hadn't pulled back to let Jeremy's spunk
meet air and skin, rather than Troy's throat, Troy's
mouth.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 107

Neither had Jeremy, though. In fact, Jeremy had
swallowed down Troy's spendings just as greedily as
Troy had done with Jeremy's. So maybe, Troy thought.
Just maybe there was more going on between them than
Troy had thought he'd wanted.

He still wasn't sure that he trusted Jeremy. Not fully,
because that would take some time. But Troy honestly
believed, in that moment, that there was a chance. That
without even looking for -- or wanting -- a relationship,
he might have stumbled his way into one, no matter how
unintentionally. And if that was the case, he had two
options. Run, by sending Jeremy on his way and
ignoring the man, or close his eyes, jump in, and hope
for the best.

It was a hell of a decision to have to make, and not one
Troy could come to lightly. What he could do, however,
was exactly what he did.

He struggled to his feet, a sated but sheepish grin on his
face as he tugged the silk lounging pants up and tied
them around his waist. Then he offered a hand to
Jeremy, pulling the man up from the floor and helping
him with the boxer-briefs Troy hadn't even noticed
earlier.

Then he turned to the mess on the counter, where the
fork had tilted the bowl over, leaving a big pool of
beaten eggs that looked like canary-yellow mucus.
"What do you think of bagels with bacon?" Troy
muttered, smiling when Jeremy laughed.

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"At the risk of sounding like Riley," Jeremy answered,
"I think I've had enough protein for breakfast. I wouldn't
say no to a bagel with some of that butter and jam,
though. And coffee. God, I want coffee almost as much
as I want you. Again. After coffee."

Troy laughed, too, because even with as little as he
knew Jeremy's work partner, he could absolutely hear
the man saying something along those lines, though
much filthier. And because he couldn't help feeling
flattered by out-ranking coffee in Jeremy's affections.
He wasn't sure how much Jeremy liked coffee, but Troy
tended to live on the stuff, so yeah. Flattering.

"Coffee, coming up. Bagel without turkey bacon, done.
So just sit down, honey. Toaster oven will only be three
minutes." Which wasn't anything like enough time to
have the conversation they were going to have, Troy
knew, but maybe afterward. Or even later, if the way
Jeremy was looking at him was any sort of sign, which
Troy hoped it was.

He still wanted to fuck Jeremy. Of course he did. But
Troy was close to a hundred percent sure that he also
wanted much more than that, and the thing that worried
him most about that, after the last little while on the
kitchen floor, was that he wasn't worried.

Yet. That might possibly change in the next few
minutes.

"I guess we need to talk," Troy said once the bagels
were toasted. He transferred them from the toaster oven
to plates, then set the plates down on the table and took a

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 109

seat across from Jeremy. "Not right this second, but, you
know. Soon."

Jeremy looked a little bit uncomfortable then, but he
nodded slowly. "I. Yeah. Soon. After breakfast, okay?
Because what we just. I mean, I don't really. Troy, you
have to know I don't just go around... blowing people.
But I don't seem to have any fucking sense where you're
concerned, and that's not normal for me, and, after
breakfast. I'm the one who said that, right?"

Troy tried not to laugh. "Right. So drink your coffee and
eat. Carbs are good. Not a lot of them, but right now, I'd
say we've earned them."

And he said he's bisexual, but he doesn't run around
blowing people, so who knows whether this can ever be
anything real... except he said he doesn't have any sense
about me, so maybe... fuck if I know. I need to just eat
my damned bagel and worry about it later.

His internal pep-talk didn't really help much, but Troy
forced himself to eat bite after bite, his stomach
churning all the while in reaction to the thoughts
running through his brain. The unwelcome, unwanted
thoughts that insisted there could never be anything
between him and Jeremy that wouldn't end when a likely
woman came along.

Being gay wasn't easy, even in a mostly accepting place
like Hartford. Jeremy was only twenty-five and he liked
women, too. For sex and dating and whatever else. Who
was to say that getting involved with Jeremy on any sort
of serious level wouldn't just lead to more of the
heartbreak Troy had already experienced?

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 110

But he said he was more into men than women, that day
he got drunk, Troy reminded himself. And we're going
to talk soon, so I need to suck it up and just hope for the
best, I guess.

God help him, but Troy couldn't help wondering
whether it was already too late to take a step back and
forget all about the unexpected connection he felt from
just a bit of frottage in his foyer and one sixty-nine on
the kitchen floor.

Sadly, he was pretty sure it was, because if he was being
honest, that connection had been there from the moment
Jeremy had busted through Troy's front door and
assaulted him.

Shit.

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Chapter Nine

Troy was doing the dishes. Not that there were many
dishes to do, but still, Jeremy had taken the opportunity
to leave the kitchen for a few minutes of alone-time. To
process. To figure out, with any luck, why he'd not only
wrapped his lips around Troy's cock, but why he'd
teased it with his tongue, why he'd moaned and groaned
around that long plug of flesh, why he'd sealed his
mouth tighter around it when he'd known Troy was
going to come and why he'd swallowed down what Troy
had given him without a single quibble about diseases
and the lack of latex.

Ultimately, Jeremy decided after a minute or two, it was
because of what he'd already known. He liked Troy, and
somehow that translated to trusting the man. And yes,
sucking someone off without a condom was less risky
than an entire plethora of other things, but it wasn't
something Jeremy made a habit of, so there was
definitely something there on his end. And probably on
Troy's, considering it had been a mutual thing.

So. Jeremy smiled to himself as he wandered through
the first floor of Troy's house. Maybe it wasn't so
hopeless to think that they might have a real...
relationship. They definitely seemed to have the
physical chemistry, anyway.

Jeremy smiled, giving barely a glance to the living
room. He'd seen it more than once, after all, in his
official capacity as Safe Haven Security's guard, and
while the unusual glass pieces set in alcoves and on
shelves out of the way were interesting, they didn't

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really promise to tell him much about Troy. He gave a
bit more attention to Troy's dining room because he
hadn't gotten that far earlier. He particularly noted the
framed photos on the walls, as there were a lot of them.

One entire wall, though granted it was one of the short
ones of the rectangle, showed a young couple, both
blonde. The early photos showed the woman with a
swelled belly. The next in line were of the same couple
with a plump infant who was obviously crying.

Another foot or so and the same couple laughed at the
camera while the infant had grown to a size that seemed
nearly two and was smiling, if not laughing.

The next grouping showed the blonde woman with a
large stomach again; then the following picture, with the
toddler holding the new baby.

It was all so surreal to Jeremy. That happiness, that
degree of satisfaction. He'd never really known his
father. Not in any way that had impacted his life. Jeremy
had only been eight years old when Jack Nelson died.
And his mother... well, he was proud of her, but she was
mostly a stranger to him. To see Troy's childhood
displayed so simply and to see the love there was...
Jeremy didn't know what it was, aside from not what
he'd expected.

He jerked slightly when something started playing
music on the dining room table, smiling when he noted
that the ring tone for Troy's cell was a snippet from a
classical piece Jeremy recognized but wasn't familiar
enough with to name. Then the music stopped, but it
started up again almost immediately.

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Jeremy chuckled and moved closer to the table, thinking
he would find Troy's phone under the papers and such
there, then he saw what the papers were.

Best's Fine Furnishings and Antiques. With a notation of
Frank Best owing Troy for 'services.'

That quickly, Jeremy stopped worrying about Troy's
phone. Hell, he stopped worrying about anything other
than that Troy had played him. He must have done. Why
else would Troy have print-outs for Jeremy's uncle's
business?

"God. I'm a fucking moron. Like... God, there's not even
anything I can use as a comparison. He fucking used me.
And he's probably supposed to make me go work for
Uncle Frank when that's the last thing I want to do." But
Jeremy could understand it, sort of. His uncle had an
agenda, after all. It was why he'd denied Jeremy access
to the trust his grandmother had left him. It would be his
when he turned twenty-seven, but until then, Uncle
Frank could refuse him any sort of cash, even for school
or property taxes on the house Jeremy's grandmother
had also left him. Luckily, the house wasn't a part of the
trust. Jeremy owned it, free and clear. But he definitely
needed to work, just as he'd told Troy. Troy, who had
provided some sort of services for Uncle Frank, and that
wasn't suspicious at all, was it?

Jeremy snorted.

So Troy was working with his uncle. Jeremy got that
much, all of a sudden. It shouldn't have surprised him,
considering how damned hot Troy was, but it did. For

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some reason, it did. Any guy like Troy shouldn't have
been so damned interested in a security guard with
nothing much to offer. Wouldn't have been, without
some reason. Like money. Like getting Jeremy so
caught up in him that... Okay. That didn't make sense.
At all. Uncle Frank had been angry when Jeremy had
stated, flat-out, that he was more interested in dating
men than women. So what point would there be for his
uncle to work with Troy? Being with Troy would be
very much not being with a woman. And Troy clearly
did well enough with his business that he wouldn't need
Frank Best's payoff, or whatever. So maybe... Jeremy
didn't know what. He was almost ready to admit that his
assumptions were wrong. Only almost, though.

"Oh, fuck. Do I really care that much about some guy
who might be working for my uncle? Because I for
fuck's sake don't want to."

"I don't want you to, either." The words came from
behind him, but Jeremy didn't have any doubt about
who'd spoken them. Not even when he already knew he
was in Troy's house. He would have recognized that
voice even decades later and in a place where it might be
unexpected, he was sure. Hell, Jeremy thought he would
have recognized Troy's voice if they'd been in pitch
darkness half a world away, with no knowledge that
they shared space.

"Um. Huh?"

Jeremy turned to meet Troy's gaze and immediately
found himself speared by those green eyes. Then Troy
moved closer. Smiled. "I said I don't want you to care
about me any more than I want to care about you. But I

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do. Care, Jeremy. I. Hell, I'm not sure why or how, and I
won't lie, won't try to say I love you. But whatever this
is. This chemistry and connection. It's something. I kind
of think I like it, even if I feel like I should be running,
fast and far. I wasn't expecting, you know. This. You. I
wasn't expecting to want there to be an us."

Jeremy swallowed convulsively, then bit his lip a little
as he considered Troy. Troy's words. "Okay," he said
after a moment. "But just tell me, Troy. Are you. All
this." He gestured to the print-out pages on the table.
"You're working for my uncle, aren't you? Well,
obviously, right? But what is it you're supposed to do
with me, because that's the part I can't make sense of.
I'm just. Confused, I guess."

Judging by the look on Troy's face -- the furrowed brow
and small twist of lips -- Jeremy wasn't the only one
who was confused. Then Troy looked at the pages and
appeared to be even more baffled. "Unless your uncle is
Mrs. Charles Wiltshire, which seems unlikely, I don't
know what you're talking about. Oh, God. It's her
husband. He's your uncle. Oh, fuck. I'm sleeping with
my client's nephew?"

"What? No! I meant my Uncle Frank! Frank Best? You
have his entire online catalogue spread out over your
table, and look, I saw the part where he owes you, so..."
Jeremy blushed at the suddenly sharp gaze Troy flashed
at him. "Um. Okay, can we just rewind to the part where
we were on the kitchen floor? Because I'm feeling like a
moron, all of a sudden."

Troy shook his head and sighed but his stare lightened
up until it almost looked teasing. "I guess we really do

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 116

need to have that talk, honey," he murmured, just loud
enough for Jeremy to hear. "Tell you what. I'll start
some fresh coffee and get dressed. Why don't you do the
same -- the clothes, not the coffee -- and meet me out
back, hmmm? We'll sit on the deck and see whether we
can figure this all out."

"I. Okay." There really wasn't much else Jeremy could
say. I'd rather talk naked, in bed, wouldn't be quite right,
considering Jeremy had just accused Troy of working
for his Uncle Frank. Getting dressed would probably be
a good idea. Especially if Troy decided to be angry and
kick Jeremy the hell out of his house.

"Good," Troy said quietly. "I'll just be a minute. You
can go ahead and dress when I get back."

Which meant no chance of redeeming himself by
distracting Troy with nudity, damn it, though that did
nothing to keep Jeremy from watching the shirtless
blond as the man moved purposefully from the dining
room. The thought bounced around in his head that he
might have screwed things up before they'd even gotten
a chance to start, thanks to his own stupid suspicions,
and that just sucked beyond the telling of it. For all
Jeremy knew, he'd just questioned his way right out of
Troy's life.

"Crap."

***

There were a lot of things Troy couldn't stand in the
world. Bigotry. Injustice. Deliberate cruelty. Lying. And
now, at thirty years old, he'd discovered a new one,

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because he for damned sure couldn't stand even the idea
that Jeremy thought he had some sort of agenda. That
Jeremy thought he was trying to take advantage in some
manner by starting whatever the hell they were doing.

Of course, he was, sort of, but he didn't really count
wanting to take advantage of Jeremy's body in a
physical way as being even remotely like the implication
Jeremy had made that Troy was for some reason
working for Frank Best. In a less than professional
capacity.

It was beyond strange, in all honesty, because Troy had
been doing business with Best for years. The man had
some wonderful one-of-a-kind antiques, along with
equally unique pieces of artwork that Troy's clients
found appealing enough that they rarely quibbled over
pricing. And Best had always seemed like a decent man.
Kind, really. Or as kind as a successful business owner
could be without seeming like an utter sap. But Jeremy's
experience with the man was clearly different.

Of course, Troy reminded himself as he hurriedly
changed out of his silk drawstring pants and slipped into
black jeans and a long-sleeved red T-shirt, family
relationships were rarely, if ever, like business ones.
And he seemed to recall Jeremy saying something once
about not getting along with his uncle because of
Jeremy's choices. That wasn't really anything Troy had
experience with. His own family hadn't been thrilled
when Troy came out, but he'd been all of fifteen then.
By the time Troy graduated from high school, he'd been
involved with Julian, whom his parents quite liked, and
even David had had time to get used to the idea.

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Troy slipped his feet into a pair of loafers, not bothering
with socks, then left his bedroom. "I'll start the coffee,"
he said as he passed Jeremy on the stairs. "Come on out
when you're ready. It's the door next to the fridge. The
other one is the pantry."

Jeremy nodded and smiled a little, though it looked
more tentative than pleased. "I won't be long."

A soft sigh left Troy's lips but he nodded and continued
on his way, the familiar routine of emptying the dregs of
the coffee pot and dumping the grounds, rinsing the
glass carafe and starting a fresh pot proving to be
soothing in some way Troy couldn't explain, even to
himself. Maybe it was the familiarity, though. Probably,
when he was planning to do something as outside his
comfort zone as having a 'relationship talk.' God, the
very idea nearly made him shudder. Or it would have, he
realized, if he'd been about to have that talk with anyone
but Jeremy.

"Huh. Interesting." His own voice sounded slightly
baffled, but that was fair enough. Yet even though the
deeper interest in Jeremy felt like something of a shock,
there was no denying that it was there. Troy figured he
need to suck it up, be a man, and just accept that
whatever he and Jeremy were doing, it was more than
just fucking around, no matter what it might seem like to
anyone else. If it was going to stay more and possibly
turn into something real, then they needed to be up front
with each other, no matter how uncomfortable it might
be.

Troy nodded sharply to himself as the coffee finished
brewing, then took the pot, along with the two mugs he'd

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washed earlier, out onto the deck. He settled in his usual
chair and poured for himself, staring out across the
smallish yard. He deliberately ignored the urge to call
Evan or even Pauly. Neither one of them would be able
to help him, anyway. Troy needed to handle things on
his own, for a change, though he was more than willing
to ask their advice if he somehow managed to screw the
whole thing up, which was possible, really. That was
another thought that was more disturbing than not, damn
it, but yeah. Suck it up, be a man, get things sorted. He
could do that, he hoped.

"It's nice out here."

Troy smiled and sipped his coffee as Jeremy joined him.
"It is. The gardener will be by in the next week or two to
plant a few flowers and such along the fences, and the
rest of the plants will grow faster once he works his
horticultural magic, but even now, it's nice. Relaxing,
you know?"

"So. Um." Jeremy sat in the chair beside Troy's. "Look,
I'm sorry about before. It's just..." He sighed. "Uncle
Frank. I guess you know him."

Troy sipped again, then topped off his own mug, filling
Jeremy's as well when the man nodded. "I've been doing
business with your uncle's shop for years, honey. And I
have to say, I knew he had a nephew, but I didn't have
any idea that the nephew was you." He smiled again.
"Actually, I was under the impression that Frank's
nephew was studying fine art and antiquities, not
American history."

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"That's part of the problem." Jeremy sighed again.
"Don't get me wrong, okay? I love my uncle. We don't
get along, but I love him. I even feel sorry for him, since
the accident. But that doesn't mean I want to spend the
rest of my life doing something I'd hate, you know? And
I'll be damned if I start making babies with someone just
so Uncle Frank can have an heir to his furniture empire
or whatever."

"Accident?" Troy found himself leaning forward,
elbows on the table while he gazed at Jeremy. "What
accident? Your uncle seems healthy enough to me."

Jeremy nodded. "He is. It was my aunt Elizabeth and
cousin Rod. You remember that storm, seven years ago?
Crazy amounts of snow, ice all over the place? It wasn't
anyone's fault, but for whatever reason, Rod lost control
of the car. It was really, really bad. Anyway, they didn't
make it and that's when Uncle Frank started talking
about me going to work with him. My grandmother
made him back off for a while, but then she died, too,
and he got... insistent." He tossed back what looked like
half the coffee in his mug.

God. Troy hadn't had any idea. He'd only known Frank
Best for five years, but the man had never mentioned
having had a wife and son. Then to lose them both at
once, so suddenly, and followed so closely by yet
another family member? He couldn't even imagine. Still,
that didn't really explain why Jeremy had thought
whatever he'd been thinking earlier. "All right. So, why
would you think--"

"I'm getting to that." Jeremy bit his lip and Troy poured
him some more coffee, for lack of anything better to do.

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"I was eighteen when Aunt Elizabeth and Rod died.
Nineteen when my grandmother passed away. She left
me her house and a small trust fund. Or it was small
then. But she made Uncle Frank the executor and he's
been trying to use that to make me give up what I want.
So I work to pay my tuition and bills and the taxes on
the house. But I'm fine with that, you know? Work never
hurt anyone, right? And my understanding is that Uncle
Frank's invested my money well."

"Okay." Troy nodded slowly. "But I'm still not clear on
how that translates to me working for your uncle. Or
even in what sense."

Jeremy sat back in his chair, fingers splayed on the table
top, though when Troy looked closer, they seemed to be
trembling. Not much, but just enough to see if someone
was looking for it, and Troy was.

"Three years ago, he. God, this sounds totally fucked up,
but sometimes he just doesn't see what he's doing, I
think. But anyway, he made a deal with Carter
Williamson to combine their businesses. I. Let's just say
it involved Williamson's daughter, Rachel, and our
prospective offspring. That's how Rachel put it when she
told me about it. She wasn't quite as willing to be used
as a bargaining chip as her dad hoped. Then I had to go
telling Uncle Frank that I'm not all that interested in
getting married and having kids, and that whole
conversation didn't go well, either."

Troy snorted. "Imagine that."

Jeremy offered up a wry smile. Borderline bitter, Troy
thought. "So fast forward to a little while ago when I

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meet this really hot guy who seems to be just as
interested in me as I am in him," Jeremy added. "Then
when we finally get our shit together enough to spend a
night, I find papers about Uncle Frank's business with a
notation that he owes you for 'services' and my first
thought... Well, it didn't make any sense, but I had to
find out."

Jeremy blushed, still looking at the table, which
definitely wasn't where Troy wanted the man's eyes.
"Sorry," Jeremy added. "I should have known better."

Troy had never wanted to know that much about Frank
Best. He still didn't. In fact, he wished he could just
scrub that bit of knowledge from his brain. Yes, Best
losing his family was tragic. Troy couldn't deny that
even if he wanted to, which he didn't. But trying to force
Jeremy into a life he didn't want was... Troy didn't know
what it was, aside from wrong. And inconvenient,
because Troy wasn't sure he would ever be able to do
business with Frank Best again, after what he'd just
found out.

On the other hand, he sort of understood Franks'
position. If Troy had been an only child, he was sure his
own father would have pressured the hell out of him to
take over the family business. And that would have been
bad. Not just for Troy, but for the business he'd never
cared about.

"No," Troy finally said, responding to Jeremy's last
words. "You shouldn't have known better. You couldn't.
I mean, sure, it would be nice if you automatically
trusted me, but..." He shrugged, a little bit sheepish, a
little apologetic. "We haven't really spent a lot of time

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together yet, and I'm guessing it's not any easier for you
to trust people than it is for me. So it's going to take
some time. But we'll get there. I mean, I want to get
there. With you, if that's okay."

Jeremy's gaze lifted from the table top to meet Troy’s
own, and there was something both amused and relieved
there. "Um. Yeah. If you're done with your coffee, we
could go back inside. I could maybe show you how okay
it is." And as Troy wasn't anywhere near as stupid as he
felt on occasion, he didn't say no to that. At all.

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Chapter Ten

He'd known it would be good. After the way Troy kissed
and rubbed and sucked, Jeremy hadn't had any doubts
about whether actual full-on penetrative sex with the
man would be good. And it was. God, it was good. Not
great, if Jeremy were being honest, but a damned sight
better than just okay.

"This all right?" Troy muttered against his spine and
Jeremy shuddered slightly at the sensation of that warm
breath on his skin. Then Troy's fingers pressed deeper,
slick and twisting, spreading even more and Jeremy
moaned. "Oh, yeah. That's all right, isn't it, honey?"
Troy sounded amused, all of a sudden.

"Uh-huh." It came out as a muffled squeak, which would
probably be embarrassing at any other time, but
somehow wasn't, in the moment. Jeremy was beyond
worrying about embarrassment. "Y-yeah. That's good."
And God, what the fuck had he been thinking just a few
seconds earlier? That it would take time to go from good
to great? Well, it had, to be fair. Seconds counted as
time. Jeremy was almost sure of it. "You could. Uh-huh.
That."

Troy's chuckle almost covered Jeremy's breathy sigh at
feeling yet another finger press inside. He wasn't sure if
that made three or four, but he didn't much care, either.
All that mattered was the stretch, the small, pleasurable
strained heat that spread from his hole to his balls, and
from balls to cock.

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"I could do this all day, honey," Troy murmured, those
long, elegant fingers pressing in, pulling out, reversing
again. "Just to see what other kinds of sounds you'd
make."

Another bout of in and twist and spread and retreat had
Jeremy breathing fast and hard, a small "Ah!" leaving
him with each stroke inside his body. His hips rose,
pushing his ass back, seeking more. Faster or deeper or
something, damn it. Something that would move things
along before he either lost his mind or offered up a
death-rattle as his next sound effect. "Please," he
groaned, somehow managing to get his hands braced on
the bed, just enough that he could lift a little, look over
his shoulder and meet wicked green eyes. "Please,
Troy."

Troy's eyes closed for a moment and Jeremy saw that
long neck tighten with a swallow, the first sign he'd
noticed that Troy was just as anxious to move things
along, no matter how much fun he might be having
driving Jeremy quietly insane.

The fingers inside him twisted one more time, spread
wide enough to make Jeremy gasp, then Troy's hand
pulled away and those pretty eyes opened again. "God. I
really do love it when you beg, honey."

The condom was right there beside Troy's knee. Jeremy
remembered that much from when they'd first tumbled
onto the bed again, clothing scattered from back door to
bedroom. "Please," Jeremy said again, lowering himself
once more, and he must look slutty as all hell, lying
there on his stomach, ass up, cock hard between his own
body and the pillows beneath his hips. Legs spread, hole

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probably shining from the lube... and he didn't care.
Jeremy didn't give a flying fuck, as long as Troy wasn't
turned off.

Going by the muttered curses and crinkling sound of
plastic, Troy wasn't at all bothered, and that was good
enough for him. Then it was even better because Jeremy
heard a triumphant grunt and the empty condom
wrapper landed on the edge of the bed, and, "Oh. Oh,
God. Troy."

Blunt heat, slick but insistent, pushed at him, pressed,
teased him into opening with small, nearly infinitesimal
jabs, and Jeremy's body answered. "God," he whispered,
followed by a louder, somewhat pained "Fuck!" when
Troy's head popped through, the flared ridge spreading
Jeremy more than he'd expected.

"So. God, honey. So tight." Troy sounded just as
breathless as Jeremy felt again. "You good?" He pressed
harder and Jeremy moaned, feeling thick flesh slide
deeper. "This good?"

"I. Yeah. Just... slow, okay? Please." Because fast might
do him in, but Jeremy didn't want to say so. Couldn't say
so, really. Not without leaving Troy to feel like he'd hurt
him, anyway, and it wasn't exactly pain that Jeremy was
feeling. It did sort of hurt, but it had been nearly a year
since the last time Jeremy had let anyone fuck him, so it
definitely wasn't pain-free, but it was something else,
too. "Ah, yeah. That's good. Fuck!"

He felt Troy's forehead against the back of his neck. Felt
the man's little nod as he pushed another inch or so
deeper, going slowly, just as Jeremy had asked.

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"Working on it, honey," Troy said, his voice rough,
strained, like he was holding back through sheer force of
will.

And maybe he was, Jeremy decided, because when his
body relaxed just a few seconds later, accepting the
intrusion, Troy moaned loud and long with what
sounded like relief and Jeremy was suddenly fuller than
he could remember ever being before. So full, so fast,
that he couldn't breathe, it was so good.

"Jeremy." Troy grunted, his skin fiery-hot and already
sweat-slick against Jeremy's back. "Jesus fucking Christ,
honey. You feel so. God. No words." And Troy stayed
there for just a second, his cock so deep inside Jeremy's
body that Jeremy thought he'd feel it in his throat if he
swallowed right then.

"More," Jeremy breathed, finding air from somewhere,
and that one small sigh seemed to be what Troy had
been waiting for because just as quickly as Jeremy
stopped speaking, Troy started moving, his body lifting
from Jeremy's back, weight pressing harder at his ass.
Then Troy obviously got settled however he wanted
because oh, those hips pulled back, stabbed forward, did
some little shimmy thing Jeremy had never experienced
before but thought he might love, and Troy did it again,
pulling nearly all the way from Jeremy's body then
slamming back inside, balls slapping against the back of
Jeremy's sac.

Troy's cock, which was swiftly moving from 'really nice'
to 'incredible,' beat at him from the inside out, and
Jeremy couldn't control his own body's reaction as he
rocked up and back, trying to spear himself more fully,

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more deeply, though it wasn't possible. Then Troy
shifted just a little, drew his knees up or something.
Whatever it was, Jeremy liked it. Loved it. Loved the
way the slight change had that bludgeoning shaft
banging away at his prostate, skating along it roughly
with every thrust in and every slide out.

His own cock, largely ignored until then, was leaking
against the pillows, pressing hard into the softness, and
that was good. God, it was fucking amazing and only
added to the gathering tightness in the pit of Jeremy's
stomach, the tightening coil of orgasm in his balls. And
even with knowing it wouldn't be long, Jeremy was
actually surprised when the first hard spurt of seed left
him.

"Oh. Fuck. Troy. C-coming."

It wasn't a cry or a shout. Jeremy didn't have enough
breath to spare for that. Instead, it was a soft, almost
wondering exclamation, but Troy clearly heard it
because he answered with an equally hushed "Yeah.
Yeah, honey. Almost... there..." followed by a few more
long, deep slides to flush against Jeremy's ass. The thick,
latex-sheathed rod inside him swelled a bit more, then
pulsed repeatedly, in time with the loud, harsh breaths
he heard leaving Troy's mouth. And when Troy finally
spilled his last and collapsed onto Jeremy's back, all
Jeremy could do was lie there and hope the next time
would involve being on his back because he really
would have liked to hold Troy right then.

"Next time," Troy muttered against his skin. "Promise."

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Jeremy chuckled softly, not yet uncomfortable but
getting there. Physically getting there. Emotionally, he
was surprisingly at ease. "Did I say that out loud?" he
asked, trying to remember if he'd actually spoken.

Troy shook his head. Jeremy felt that longish, near-
white hair on his skin, a few strands sticking to the
sweat they'd worked up. "No. I just knew what you were
thinking. I want to see your face, too."

Well, it wasn't exactly what he'd been thinking, but it
was close enough, and Jeremy couldn't deny that the
notion had a lot of appeal. Yeah, he wouldn't mind
seeing every expression on Troy's face, the next time
they fucked. And with any luck, that whole next-time
thing would be pretty damned soon.

"That would be good," he agreed. "Maybe after a
shower. And some food or something. I know we just
ate, but I'll be starving in another half hour or so."

"Mmm." Troy was smiling when he pulled himself from
Jeremy's body and flopped down beside him, pulling off
the condom and dropping it and the empty wrapper over
the side of the bed where Jeremy hoped there was a trash
can, but he wasn't going to worry about it. He was too
caught up in that smile.

It wasn't like any other smile Jeremy had seen on Troy
before. It was lazy and satisfied and had a sort of pride
to it that was slightly annoying but kind of cool, too.
"We already tried the 'or something,' honey, and
apparently your body doesn't want to live on spunk,
alone. I'll throw a couple steaks on the grill; how about
that?"

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God, he couldn't help laughing at that. He just couldn't.
He also couldn't help easing himself off of the come-
slicked pillows and pressing down onto Troy's hot-in-so-
many-ways body. He laid a long, slow kiss to Troy's
lips, sliding his tongue demandingly into that warm,
pink mouth, and when Troy moaned quietly, Jeremy
pulled back.

"Steak sounds good. We can negotiate on which of us
will be looking at the ceiling later. Maybe in the
shower." Jeremy licked Troy's lips slowly then smirked
a little. "As good as you just fucked me, I'll still bet
you're just as good underneath. Now kiss me, Troy, and
we'll have that shower."

He would have to remember to take at least one condom
along when they finally made it to the bathroom, Jeremy
knew. And that might be a while, really. He had a
sneaking suspicion that he could just lie there, sticky and
somewhat sore, and kiss Troy for hours without feeling
rushed. He kind of wanted to find out for sure.

***

"I should probably tell you," Troy said as they sat out on
his deck, the empty plates that had recently held grilled
steaks and potato chips sitting ignored on the table.
"You're not the only one with trust issues."

Jeremy's brow rose and Troy sighed. "Not the same
kind, obviously, because my family situation isn't as
complicated as yours, but still. Trust is hard for me. Or it
has been. There was this whole thing with Julian and it

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kind of messed me up. More than I really knew, to tell
you the truth."

"Julian." Jeremy sounded just as confused as he
suddenly looked. "You mean your friend Julian? The
one. You know. With the glass and..."

"Glass-ass. Yeah." Troy felt his cheeks heating and
could only hope the reds and oranges of the sunset hid it
well enough. "He was my first... everything, really.
Boyfriend. Lover. Whatever you want to call it. First
kiss, first sexual experience, first... yeah. 'Everything'
about covers it."

"Oh."

That was all Jeremy said, but there were so many
nuances to that one word. Troy wasn't sure about how he
understood or even recognized them, but he knew what
he'd heard there. Disappointment. Regret. Something
else, too. He hesitated to call it despair, but it didn't
seem far from it. And anger. Jeremy might not even be
aware of it, but Troy definitely heard some anger.

One hand slid across the few inches of table top between
them and Troy's palm pressed over the back of Jeremy's
hand, not holding it, but holding it down. "Long story
short, we met when we were fifteen. Got to be friends.
We got closer at sixteen, and even closer before we
graduated from high school. And I thought it was
serious. The real deal, you know?" Troy tried to smile,
at least a little. "We even made sure we went to the same
college, roomed together until maybe halfway through
junior year."

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"Okay. And?" Short. Clipped. To the point. Yeah,
Jeremy clearly wasn't happy that Troy was sharing, yet
he seemed reluctantly interested because why else would
he still be sitting there, not to mention asking for more?
Unless Jeremy just wanted to get the whole conversation
over with so he could leave. Troy wouldn't blame him.
Even with the fantastic sex, discovering just how much
baggage Troy carried around might be enough to have
the guy walking away.

Troy shrugged, rubbing his palm lightly over Jeremy's
hand after another moment. "And that's when I caught
him with Richard." He chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm not
going to get into details or anything, but it wasn't good.
Worse than that, I think it made me suspicious of every
other guy I've even thought about seeing. To the point
that I haven't really let myself get anywhere close to
serious since. And I know that's kind of crazy and
stupid, okay? I do. I mean, who decides not to have any
real relationships just because one guy fucked them over
ten years ago? God."

God, indeed, because it sounded even worse out loud
than Troy had thought it would. Worse and more
pathetic and just plain insane, which was probably part
of why he'd never said it in words before, or to anyone
but himself. He'd only thought it, and somehow, in his
head it had seemed less idiotic and crazy.

He waited for a good minute, counting off the seconds
in his mind, but Jeremy didn't say anything. Hell,
Jeremy didn't even look up. His eyes appeared to be
locked on their hands on the table. More specifically, on
Troy's hand over Jeremy's own. But Jeremy hadn't ended
that touch; he hadn't gotten up or made any move to do

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so. And the relief that swelled inside Troy's chest at
noticing that told him he really did want to trust Jeremy.

He'd thought so earlier, before the sex of various kinds,
but some part of him had chalked that up to horniness
and sheer, blatant want. But Troy wasn't horny at the
moment. He for damned sure still wanted Jeremy,
though, and it wasn't entirely sexual, either. It was
completely unusual for him, but there it was. And as that
was the case, he had to say something. Anything.
Whatever it took.

"You know," Troy murmured, fingers sliding on
Jeremy's, "I didn't tell you that to make you feel
whatever you're feeling right now. I just wanted you to
know. Because I. I really like you, Jeremy. I want to
trust you, and that's new for me. In some ways, I already
do, and that's new, too. But I'll probably have my
moments, anyway. I might get jealous, even when
there's no reason, or want to know what you're doing
when it's none of my business. And I can't promise I'll
be an easy boyfriend to have. If you even want to try."

"Five years." It came out of nowhere, as far as Troy was
concerned, but that was likely because he'd figured it
would take longer to coax Jeremy into speaking again.
Obviously, it hadn't, because Jeremy repeated himself
then. "Five years. You and Julian. Because you said you
started out together when you were fifteen or met then
or whatever. And junior year is like twenty or twenty-
one, for most people."

Not for Jeremy, because the guy was still in school, but
considering what was going on with Jeremy's uncle and
needing to work, that made sense. "Something like that,"

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Troy agreed. Then Jeremy's hand moved under his.
Turned over.

"Julian's a fucking dick," Jeremy announced as his
fingers gripped Troy's. He said it like he was saying it
was getting dark, or the air was turning cooler with the
setting of the sun. It didn't sound like an accusation, but
a statement of fact, and Troy found he liked that more
than he would have thought. "I don't mean just because
he was fucking around on you, either. He's a dick
because after five years, he should have told you why or
had the decency to break up with you first or something.
He should have done that even if you'd only been
together for five weeks. And how the fuck are you still
friends with him? Shit. I barely even know him and I
can't stand him, now."

Troy's smile felt broader, more real than the one he'd
offered earlier. He didn't know why, unless it was due to
the way Jeremy seemed to be offended with Julian on
his behalf. And even though he agreed with Jeremy in
large part, he still answered.

"It was a long time ago, honey. And he's not a bad guy,
okay? We were young and he didn't know how to
explain what he was feeling, if he even knew what he
was feeling. But I don't want to talk about that anymore.
I'd really much rather know whether you think you'll be
able to deal with us dating. Like I said, I have some
issues, so it probably won't be easy, but do you think
you might want to try it? See what happens?"

Troy bit his lip while Jeremy stared at him, those gray
eyes serious and darker than usual in the fading light.
God, Troy felt raw. Exposed, somehow, under the

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pressure of that gaze and his own words. It was so soon.
Maybe too soon. He and Jeremy had really just
connected, no matter that they'd spent two weeks
circling each other, more or less. It was still so new, so
full of fire and heat. And it was possible that that was all
it was, but Troy didn't think so. He couldn't quite make
himself believe that he would be sitting there asking
Jeremy to date, of all things, if it were only physical.

"So, what do you think, Jeremy? Because I'd really like
to give it a shot."

Troy held his breath, almost unable to believe that he'd
just come out with it so bluntly. Then again, he'd been
saying all sorts of unexpected things since he'd first met
Jeremy, so maybe he shouldn't be so surprised, but he
was.

He was even more surprised by Jeremy's answer, partly
because it came so quickly, this time.

"Yeah," Jeremy said, his fingers tightening on Troy's
own. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Troy nodded, his lips curving without any conscious
direction from him. "Good," he answered, returning the
pressure. "But you'll need to tell me if I get too intense,
okay?" That was important. He wasn't sure he'd
recognize it if he became irrationally jealous or overly
possessive. He knew he had the capacity to get that way,
just from how much the idea of losing Jeremy bothered
him, but he wouldn't necessarily know how much was
too much.

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"You too," Jeremy murmured. "But if we're going to do
this, I. It should be just us. No dating around." And that
was good enough for Troy. Made him hopeful, even,
because it implied that Jeremy might honestly be feeling
just as oddly invested in whatever they were doing as
Troy did.

"Sounds like a plan," Troy answered as he leaned closer,
brushing his lips slowly against Jeremy's. It not only
sounded like a plan, but a damned good one.

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Chapter Eleven

Jeremy stared out the window of the Safe Haven
Security patrol car, doing his best to ignore Riley,
though the man wasn't making it easy. Then again, Riley
wasn't exactly the type to make anything easy,
especially things that would have him being something
other than the center of attention.

"...china patterns and shit but I told him he was out of
his fucking mind." Riley's voice broke into Jeremy's
thoughts yet again, but this time Jeremy didn't have a
single clue regarding what his friend was talking about.
"You gay guys might go from saying hi to doing the
bump and grind in four-point-eight seconds, but china
patterns? Dude. No way."

"Huh?" Jeremy blinked, his head whipping around to
stare at Riley. "What? Who said what about... China
patterns? What the fuck?"

Riley smirked. "Yeah, that's what I said. Shit, you could
at least pretend to listen. I'm trying to tell you, man.
Pauly and his butt-buddies think you and Ballard are
getting all domestic and shit. I'm pretty sure they were
joking about you guys registering at homo-hut, but
whatever. It was funny." Then Riley's smirk faded a
little. "Then again, you've been spending most of your
free time playing hide the pepperoni with him, so maybe
the twinkies-three aren't blowing as much smoke up my
ass as I thought. Not, like, actually 'up my ass' because
I'm still not a pillow-biter, but you know what I mean."

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"I think I can honestly say that -- as usual -- I don't have
any idea." Jeremy frowned a little. "And since when are
you hanging out with Pauly and his guys? Oh, and while
we're on the subject, what the fuck is a 'homo-hut'?"

Riley laughed, easily maneuvering the patrol car through
the familiar streets before pulling to a stop beneath a
street light. "Dude. I told you like two weeks ago that I
ran into Pauly at that kitchen store downtown. It's all
pots and pans and weird-ass tools and shit that no
straight guy would ever need or even fucking recognize.
So, homo-hut." He grinned. "So we went for drinks, had
dinner with his boyfriends. Jessie met us and we all
went to that drag show. Fuck, I can't believe you don't
remember this shit! You gay dudes can't remember fuck-
all, can you? Too busy thinking about sex, right?"

Jeremy frowned more deeply. "Seriously, Riley. I swear,
you never told me about any of that. And I'm not gay.
I'm--"

"What? Bi?" Riley snorted. "Dude. You're my best
friend, even though I've barely seen you outside of work
for the last month, and I love you like a brother, but
you're a dude. And you're fucking a dude, or maybe
getting fucked by one. Don't know, don't want to know,
man. But you're not looking for a girl. At all, far as I can
tell. So get over it. You're a great big ass-pirate, okay?
Shit, you keep going like you've been doing with that
Ballard guy, and even if you decide to have kids
someday, it'll probably involve a surrogate and a turkey
baster instead of either one of you banging a hot chick.
You're about as bi as I am, Jer."

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Jeremy groaned at the broad grin Riley flashed him, then
shook his head. "Whatever. The whole thing with Troy,
it's... I don't know. But I'm pretty sure we won't be
hiring any surrogate anytime soon. I mean, it's only been
a month since we started really seeing each other. So
you went to a drag show. Really? Because I'm having a
hard time imagining that." He honestly was. Then it
truly hit him. "Oh, God. You went to a drag show! Did
they throw you out?" Because with some of the things
that came out of Riley's mouth, Jeremy could totally see
the performers getting pissed off enough to help
whatever bouncers were there.

"Dude, they loved me! Those are some quick fucking
pansies, too. Smart, I mean. And fuck if I knew dudes
could look that hot in dresses. Gave me a whole new
appreciation for the she-male of the species. It was
weird, but fun. I went again last week, but Jessie didn't
want to see it a second time." Finally, Riley's grin faded.
"I think she's gonna break up with me, man. Soon. She
was 'busy' all weekend and I left her a message last night
but she never called me back."

"Well, that sucks." Jeremy bit his lip, at a loss for what
else to say. But Riley was his closest friend, so he had to
at least try. "I mean, I know you really like her. I don't
think you've ever dated anyone for more than a few days
since I met you. Until her. I. Shit, Riley. I don't know.
Maybe she really is just busy." He couldn't say, what
with never having met the contortionist in question.
"Either way, you should probably find out. Ask her or
something."

Riley snorted, his usual good mood reasserting itself.
"Yeah, right. Because chicks just totally dig it when a

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dude gets all 'why didn't you call?' Please. That's a total
girly-man move. And that explains why you suggested
it. I bet you're the girl with Ballard, right? Ass-up for his
big, hard--"

"Shut up!" Jeremy knew he was blushing bright red.
Thank God it was dark outside. "Jesus, Riley! Are you
sure you're not bi? Because you spend way too much
time thinking about my love life for a supposedly
straight guy! Jesus!"

"Dude! I know I look like God's gift, but you probably
shouldn't keep calling me Jesus."

Oh, God help him. Jeremy was damnably close to
laughing, even though Riley was pissing him off. "Shut
up," he said again, more a grumble than anything else,
this time.

Riley's grin was back, bigger than ever, when Jeremy
looked at him again. "Fine. Whatever, man. It was just a
guess, anyway. Ballard's got a hot little ass on him, too.
None of my business which one of you does what. I'm
just saying. If you're not fucking women and you're not
planning on it, calling yourself 'bi' might be misleading.
But whatever. As long as you're having fun. If you want
my opinion, and I know you do, I could see Ballard
wanting to bang you. Your butt looks hot. In clothes,
anyway." Riley winked and Jeremy did laugh. Against
his will and a little bit shakily, but he laughed none the
less.

"Keep it up and I'll tell Pauly you're checking out guys’
asses. Troy says Pauly used to be kind of a slut, so who
knows what he might do."

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Riley looked honestly horrified for about a second, then
he rolled his eyes and put the patrol car in drive, pulling
away from the curb. "I'd be more worried about his two
boyfriends, man. James and Randy aren't the type to
hold back and I kind of like my eyes -- and my balls --
right where they are, thanks. So what's up with your
uncle?"

Jeremy sighed and shrugged, staring out the window
again. "No idea. Troy had a meeting with him this
afternoon, but Uncle Frank must still be in the dark
about our relationship or Troy would have called. I'll ask
him tonight." Just to make sure his uncle was okay,
really. It had been a long time since Uncle Frank had
bothered to call, after all.

Riley's smug chuckle filled the car. "Tonight? Oh, man.
You're seeing him on weeknights now, too? It must be
really serious."

"Serious enough," Jeremy admitted, wincing as he tried
to prepare himself for whatever off-color, borderline-
offensive thing Riley might say next.

As it turned out, he was entirely shocked by Riley's
words. "Good. I'm happy for you," wasn't at all what
he'd expected to hear.

He deliberately didn't mention that it was not only a
weeknight, but the first time Troy would be coming to
Jeremy's house. He was actually nervous about it. Troy's
place was modern and stylish. Sharp, but not cold.
Jeremy's house, on the other hand, was none of those
things. Well, it wasn't cold, either, but in place of

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modern and stylish, it was old fashioned and out of date.
It was the opposite of sharp, what with being full of old
furniture, some of which was close enough to threadbare
that there was hardly any difference.

It was nice furniture, granted, but while Jeremy's
grandmother had taken great pride in keeping the wood
polished and waxed while caring for the upholstery
almost obsessively, that wasn't something Jeremy had
time for. Even before he'd started spending whatever
time he could with Troy, the house and its contents had
come in a distant third, following school and work. He'd
tried a few projects on his own, but a man had to have
priorities and with Troy in the picture, these days? Well,
now upkeep to the house came in a very distant fourth.

He didn't know what Troy would say when he saw the
house, but Jeremy hoped his lover would understand
why he hadn't been invited sooner. Troy wouldn't even
have been invited for that night if Jeremy hadn't started
to feel strange about spending so much time at Troy's
nicer, newer home. Judging by the speed with which
Troy had said yes to the invitation, though, it seemed
likely that Troy had been curious for a while. Jeremy
only hoped Troy wasn't too disappointed.

All that was running through his mind, building anxiety.
Even so, Jeremy managed to give Riley a grin as he said
"Thanks."

"No big. Good to see at least one of us--" Riley started,
cutting himself off when the patrol car started to shake
just a bit, then a lot. "Fuck." He pulled over again,
pushing the automatic transmission lever to park. "What
do you bet we've got a flat?"

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It was Jeremy's turn to snort. "No wager. I felt it, just
like you did."

Riley unbuckled from the driver's seat and opened the
door. "Wasn't sure you would, man." He got out of the
car, then leaned back in, yet another smirk firmly affixed
on his face. "Figured with all the pounding your ass
must take on a regular basis, all that bouncing around
might seem normal to you."

Jeremy rolled his eyes and got himself out of the car, as
well. "Oh, ha-fucking-ha. You're a laugh riot. Asshole."

"Well, if anyone would know about assholes, I guess it'd
be you," Riley shot back. "What with all your
experience, man. You know, with the physical kind.
Unless you really are the girl. Bet you'd look like shit in
a dress." And yeah. There was a reason they were
friends. No matter how straight Riley might be, he had a
sense of humor. And constantly displayed a kind of
acceptance that Jeremy had found to be rare, even in
Connecticut.

***

Troy wasn't entirely sure he had the right address until
his careful knock on the door -- careful in case he was
wrong -- was answered before he'd even finished
rapping. Even then, he had a moment of questioning
because aside from that first weekend at his house,
Jeremy hadn't greeted him quite so hungrily. But there
was no doubt that it was Jeremy who had hauled him
inside the classic Victorian and slammed him against a
wall. Troy would know Jeremy's flavor anywhere.

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Jeremy's mouth and tongue. There wasn't a single
chance in hell or out of it that Troy wouldn't recognize
those things.

He heard the door he'd so recently passed through
slamming and while he spared a thought for Jeremy's
neighbors, they didn't matter enough to comment on. If
he could have commented, which he couldn't with
Jeremy's tongue in his mouth, Jeremy's hands already up
underneath the T-shirt Troy wore.

It was all so wild and free and raw and needy, and Troy
loved it. Loved knowing his boyfriend, lover, whatever,
was so damned hot for him right then. He didn't know
why, but he didn't much care, either. It was enough that
Jeremy was sliding those big hands up Troy's back, then
down to grab Troy's ass through denim. It was more
than enough that Jeremy was feeding him small
grumbles and moans that Troy swallowed greedily.

His cock, already primed on the drive over by the
thought of getting up close and personal with Jeremy
again, throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and if it could
have, Troy knew it would have torn through his jeans in
an effort to be that much closer to Jeremy's skin, to
Jeremy's touch.

It could wait. His cock could fucking wait, damn it.
Because ever since that first weekend they'd spent
together, when Jeremy hadn't made it home in time to do
any studying at all -- for which Troy still didn't feel even
slightly guilty -- Troy had been wanting to repeat the
experience of just making out for hours. Granted, they'd
been post-coital that time, but...

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 145

Jeremy groaned loudly, his hips rocking against Troy's
stomach, and Troy threw that plan out the window.
Later. That would be good later. Right then, though,
Jeremy's body was calling and fuck if Troy could resist.
Then Jeremy made another sound, muffled by Troy's
tongue. It seemed like a growl, though, and the rough,
raw nature of it went straight to Troy's balls.

Their devouring didn't end or even slow, mouths moving
harder, faster. Troy thought he might be tasting blood
from the force of it, but fuck if he cared. It was good.
Primal. Visceral and dark. Good.

So were Jeremy's fingers, digging into his ass through
the heaviness of black denim, the pressure varying
enough that it felt like those fingers were kneading his
flesh, molding it in a way.

"Oh, God." Gasped against Jeremy's lips, the words only
seemed to stoke whatever fire had ignited within the
man because Jeremy pulled back for less than an instant,
just enough time to grunt "Yeah." Then it got hotter,
harder, which Troy hadn't even thought possible.

His hands were in Jeremy's hair, somehow. Fingers
buried deep, threaded and tangled with strands of
brownish silk, it felt like. And his mouth was still
attached, still sucking hard at Jeremy's tongue while
Jeremy's hands... God, Troy couldn't quite manage to
figure out how they'd progressed from fully dressed
against the wall beside Jeremy's front door to half naked
against a stair railing, but it had obviously happened. He
still wore his T-shirt, hopelessly tangled up by his
armpits, but he'd lost his shoes and jeans and underwear
somewhere between locations.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 146

His cock was hard. Harder than Troy remembered it
being since the last time he'd seen Jeremy. And Jeremy's
was just as turgid, engorged, whatever quasi-romantic
term Troy's lust-addled brain wanted to use. No matter
the terminology, it was there, just as naked as Troy's
own and rubbing against him, spreading small streaks of
pre-come against Troy's skin.

"Say it," Troy managed to demand, somewhere between
biting Jeremy's bottom lip and having his own tonsils
licked. "Fuck!"

"Need you," Jeremy answered, his voice harsh and
showing just that. Need. Nothing so simple as mere
want, but need. And that was perfect because Troy
needed, too. Possibly more than he'd ever needed
anything in his life, even breath.

"Have me." It was a grunt, a groan, a plea, but no less a
demand, for all that. Because no matter how many times
Jeremy had implied that he was going to turn the tables
and have at Troy's ass, it hadn't happened yet. And Troy
loved shoving his cock into Jeremy, yes. No doubt about
that. But he wasn't a total top. He liked getting as well as
giving. And God, but he wanted to get, finally.

"Have me," he snarled again, fingers suddenly tighter,
harder in Jeremy's hair, holding that passionate,
distracting mouth back. "Now. Tonight. Have me, damn
it!"

He didn't fight or even try to resist when Jeremy dove
for his lips again. Troy was too busy anticipating the
follow-through on the promise in those dark gray eyes.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 147

When fingers joined the tongue in his mouth, Troy only
swirled his own tongue around all of them, treating the
joint intrusions as though they were Jeremy's cock.

He didn't make a single sound of objection when those
fingers withdrew, wet and slick. He didn't gasp or sigh
when they slid behind him, between his body and the
banister. And he didn't whimper when they pushed
inside him, but that was mostly because his mouth was
busy, still sucking on Jeremy's tongue.

Yes! It rattled through his brain when Jeremy's fingers
pushed inside him, a small, mental hiss accompanying
the word. Yes! There wasn't enough pain to make Troy
interrupt their kiss, though. Not even close. There wasn't
even enough pain to stop him from pushing back, taking
those fingers deeper with the knowledge that what
would follow -- soon, Troy hoped -- would be much
bigger and would reach parts of him that hadn't been
accessed in months.

The fingers retreated and Troy moaned loudly enough to
hear it himself when those fingers returned to clamp
onto his ass again. The world shifted slightly with a
sense of motion, and the banister dropped... or not, Troy
realized as his legs wrapped around Jeremy's waist.
Jeremy had just lifted him, pressing him harder against
the railing.

He felt the slick, blunt tip of Jeremy's prick against him,
sliding along his crack for a moment before passing
down, brushing his hole, and Troy groaned, tried to push
down, take it in. God, he wanted to. Wanted that hot,
hard shaft deep inside, filling him in a way he hadn't felt
in far too long.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 148

In a way he'd never felt, Troy reminded himself, his
mind fuzzy and sort of disconnected. It would be totally
new. He'd never had Jeremy inside him before. He was
about to, though, and he had a feeling that it might ruin
him for all other men.

Instead of scaring him, which Troy knew it should have,
the idea was actually comforting.

"Wait."

That was Jeremy's voice, suddenly breathless and
uncertain. A far cry from the demanding and dominant
attitude the man had been showing from the moment
he'd opened the door to let -- drag -- Troy in. "Wait.
Shit. Condoms, Troy. I don't have. We need to go
upstairs and..."

Oh, fuck no. That would take too long and they'd lose
the urgency that was so damned right. So necessary in
some way Troy couldn't define. His legs flexed,
tightened, trapping Jeremy's prick right where it was,
between the cheeks of Troy's ass. His eyes opened, and
it was only then that Troy realized he'd closed them.

"Status," he gasped, staring into Jeremy's eyes and
seeing only a small ring of gray that looked deep silver
around dilated black pupils. "Status, honey! I don't have
anything, okay? Tell me you don't, either, and we're
good!"

God only knew whether Jeremy really thought it
through, but he'd obviously understood the question
because he nodded, his fingers flexing wildly where they

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 149

held Troy up. Troy was pretty sure he would have
finger-shaped bruises later from that one motion, but he
didn't care. Wanted them, even, because Jeremy nodded
again. "I. N-nothing. Negative for everything. I've
never..."

That was enough. Jeremy had never and Troy had only
done that with Julian, but that was ten years past and
God knew he'd been tested over and over since and had
done nothing risky, even by mistake, so Troy dragged
Jeremy's lips to his again and dove in, letting every bit
of heat and need and want he felt pour through that
connection.

He pushed a loud, rough shout into Jeremy's mouth
when Jeremy surged up, driving his hefty cock through
Troy's tiny hole. He didn't do anything but lean back
harder against the stair rails and banister, though. He
couldn't.

It was rough and hard and wickedly sweet and it was
just what Troy had never known he needed. And it was
bare. Naked. Jeremy's cock moving in and out of him.
Jeremy's cock bludgeoning his prostate. Jeremy's cock
pushing him higher than he'd gone before, ever.

It was Jeremy's cock that swelled, stretching his hole
even more while Troy moaned happily against Jeremy's
lips. And it was Jeremy's cock that slid against Troy's
prostate again, just right enough to have Troy's whole
body clenching, releasing, muscles spasming in time
with the sudden pulses of viscous seed that spurted from
his own cock, without so much as a touch.

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As though Troy's shudders and jerks were some sort of
sign, Jeremy slammed faster, harder into his body, arms
moving Troy's body in whatever manner Jeremy seemed
to need. Even with having come already, Troy was
aware enough to notice the further swelling inside him,
the way Jeremy tensed.

Tensed and growled and half-shouted, the cry cut off
when Jeremy lifted Troy a little and dropped a bit,
pulling his cock from Troy's hole and spilling roughly
somewhere that wasn't inside.

Troy found himself on the floor mere moments later.
Found himself on the floor and angry, though Jeremy
was down there with him. "What the fuck was that?" he
demanded, an odd sense of rejection flowing through
him. "Fuck you, Jeremy!"

Jeremy's arms stopped Troy from pulling away, no
matter how he struggled. Then Jeremy rolled them,
pinning Troy between that larger body and what felt like
a very nice rug.

"I want to get to that point with you, Troy," Jeremy said,
so carefully but seriously that Troy couldn't take
offense. "And I think I will. Soon. It sort of feels like
this -- us -- is serious. But as much as I appreciate you
saying it was okay to, you know. Come. Um, in you? No
matter how good it felt, it's. That's way serious. So I
didn't. But not because I didn't want to. I wanted to."
Jeremy shuddered and Troy almost smiled. "God, did I
want to. You have no idea. But I won't, even if we do
that again. Not unless I know this is, you know. Real."

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Troy sighed, reluctantly letting go of his fit of pique. It
was stupid, anyway. Possibly something his
subconscious had come up with to push Jeremy away.
But Troy didn't want to push Jeremy away. If anything,
he wanted to draw the man closer. Even with knowing
Jeremy was so damned hot and so fucking friendly.
Even knowing that more guys than just Troy thought
so... Troy almost trusted him. It was bizarre.

"Okay," Troy finally agreed. "Or not okay. This was all
kind of hot-and-can't-wait. And that's not your fault," he
said quickly when Jeremy started to look ashamed. "I
seem to recall that it was me who told you to go for it,
even after you said we didn't have supplies."

"I. Yeah." Jeremy sounded relieved. He looked it, too.

"So how about we make a pact, honey?" Troy offered up
his best smile. "No more non-latex sex until we're sure
we're going to be together for a really long time. And in
the event that we have another situation like tonight,
because that could definitely happen, we both hold to
your solution."

Troy tried to look sincere, but he was thinking about
how Jeremy's naked cock had felt inside him. Hotter,
better than any other prick he'd ever known and
probably better than cocks he hadn't met yet. He couldn't
be entirely sure without checking, but he wasn't
interested in doing that kind of research. He'd had Julian
bare, almost ten years ago, and then Jeremy, less than
ten minutes past. Jeremy was vastly superior. And for
whatever reason, that was all the sampling Troy wanted
to do. He was sure, no matter that he hadn't told Jeremy
so yet.

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Hell, Troy was more sure about being sure of Jeremy
than he'd ever been sure of anything before. He'd only
had a tiny niggle of doubt before, and that had been
more than eradicated by the fact that Jeremy had taken
him so hard and good.

Knowing for certain that his lover could take the
dominant role and make it his own? Yeah. That had
cleared up a lot of things for Troy. Like Jeremy being
right for him, what with liking to do that every now and
again but not all the time. Like knowing he wasn't the
only one who'd lost his mind because of the connection
between them. Like Jeremy might possibly be the
mythical 'one' everybody looked for. Troy's 'one.' And
Jeremy seemed to be in it just as deep as Troy was,
himself.

It was cool, really, Troy thought as he and Jeremy rose
from the floor together. Then they helped each other up
the stairs and to what appeared to be Jeremy's room,
though it was rather small for a master bedroom. It had a
queen-sized bed, though, so Troy could deal.

He could definitely deal, he decided a few minutes later,
his T-shirt and Jeremy's on the floor. There wasn't
anything even remotely unpleasant about curling up
against Jeremy's side because the bed wasn't as big as
his own king-sized. Yeah, that was why he was pressed
so close to the man.

Troy was still smiling when he fell asleep a few minutes
later, his head on Jeremy's shoulder, one arm resting
across Jeremy's stomach. It was the fastest he'd ever

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fallen asleep in his life, aside from the nights Jeremy
had spent with him at his place.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 154

Chapter Twelve

Being summoned to his uncle's office wasn't how
Jeremy had expected to spend his Saturday afternoon. In
fact, he'd had every intention of being naked, or possibly
only slightly clothed, with Troy. But Uncle Frank had
called, insisting that he needed see Jeremy that very day,
and while Troy had offered to go with him, Troy hadn't
suggested that Jeremy not go at all. That was a good
thing, Jeremy supposed, because even with as much as
he and his uncle didn't get along, it was the first time
Uncle Frank had called in over a year. It was also the
first time in twice that length of time that Uncle Frank
had wanted to see him, and somehow that worried
Jeremy. At the very least, it implied that something was
wrong.

No. Strike that. Something was definitely wrong. Uncle
Frank wouldn't be just sitting on the other side of the big
mahogany desk in his office, looking at Jeremy like he
was expecting Jeremy to do tricks if there weren't
something wrong. Except his uncle didn't look worried
or scared or sick or anything. He looked healthy, which
pretty much eliminated the question of illness, so what
the hell was going on?

"You look more like your father every time I see you,"
Uncle Frank said, his voice rough, like he hadn't spoken
in a while. "But you've got my sister's eyes."

Jeremy blinked and sat up straighter in the
uncomfortable chair across the desk from his uncle. "I.
Okay. Um, I don't have a single clue what I'm supposed
to say to that. Or why you wanted me to come here."

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And fuck if he was going to waste the rest of the day
dancing around the question, either. "Not that it isn't
good to see you, but it's been ages. You look good, by
the way, but why am I here?"

Uncle Frank's lips compressed into a thin line for a
moment, the frown contrasting with the smile lines
Jeremy remembered from childhood. "I've been
thinking," the man finally said after a good ten seconds
of strained silence. "Your friend. Ballard. He came
around here last week and it wasn't on business. He said
some things, Jeremy. Things I've been thinking about
ever since."

Jeremy blinked again, then blushed at how dim-witted
he must look, just blinking every time Uncle Frank
spoke. And he was angry, too, damn it. He'd known
Troy'd had a meeting with Uncle Frank, but he'd
assumed that Troy would have mentioned something if
Jeremy's name had come up. He'd even meant to ask
Troy about it, but it had completely slipped his mind,
what with the bare-naked-sex. It had stayed slipped, too.
God. "Uh-huh."

"I love this business." Jeremy fought the urge to answer
duh. Fortunately Uncle Frank went on before Jeremy
lost the battle. "And you don't. I do understand that,
Jeremy, and I wasn't bothered by it when you were
younger. Rod..." Uncle Frank's eyes closed and the man
swallowed roughly, like something had lodged in his
throat. "Rod loved it, too. He was excited about working
with me. He loved the history wrapped around the really
old, unique pieces and he loved going to estate sales and
auctions with me. Then he, well, you know. He and
Elizabeth, both at once. I still..."

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Jeremy watched and bit his lip as his uncle's chest rose
and fell with a harsh breath. Just once, then Uncle
Frank's stare lifted from the desk top, meeting Jeremy's
eyes. "But that's done. You and your mother are the only
family I have left. I wanted you to love this business the
way I do." The way Rod did wasn't spoken, but Jeremy
heard it anyway.

"And I thought," Uncle Frank said slowly, "that maybe
you would, given enough time. But you really are so
much like your father. Stubborn and determined to do
everything your own way. Even when I tried to make
you take an interest by restricting your trust, you went
ahead and found a way around me." He laughed a little
bitterly. "Then Ballard walked in here the other day and
asked me what I thought I was doing."

Jeremy's eyes narrowed a little bit, his earlier anger
growing. "That's because he's a controlling jerk who
didn't have any right to talk about me. Feel free to ignore
him." Except Troy wasn't really controlling. Not exactly.
And Jeremy was fairly sure Troy had been trying to
help, but he should have talked to Jeremy about it before
doing it, but he had. Troy had said he was going to see
Uncle Frank. Jeremy was the one who'd assumed it was
a business meeting rather than something more personal.
Crap.

Another laugh, still not entirely happy but less bitterly
miserable than the previous one had Jeremy leaning
back, waiting for whatever his uncle would say next.

"I don't think you mean that," Uncle Frank said, blunt
and simple. "You told him about Rachel Williamson, so

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 157

I'm thinking he does have some rights. I. Damn it."
Uncle Frank's hand rose to scrub his fingers through
graying hair. "Look. I can't say I'm thrilled about the
whole gay thing. I'm not even thrilled that you want to
be a teacher when this business needs you. I was hoping
you and Rachel would get along well enough to have a
child who would have antiques and fine art in his or her
blood. But you didn't and even though Ballard didn't say
it in so many words, I'm guessing you've jumped off
the... what was it Rachel called it? The sexuality-fence, I
think. So Ballard came here and said a lot of things,
Jeremy, but the one that I haven't been able to get out of
my head?"

Uncle Frank's eyes dropped to the desk again and
Jeremy's followed, seeing the man's fingers clench and
unclench against the wood, then lace together like he
needed something to hold on to.

"Your friend. Ballard. He asked me what good it was
doing me to keep pushing you away by trying to draw
you in. It took me over a week to figure out what he
meant and how I feel about it, but he's right. You're my
nephew. Whether you want the business or not, you're
the only family I have here, what with your mother
being wherever that circus of hers is, right now. And I've
known for a while now that you're not going to give in,
even if it means working full time and going to school
full time and trying to have a relationship, all at once. I
just." Uncle Frank shook his head. "Your father isn't the
only one who could raise stubborn to an art form.
Maybe I got it from him. He was my best friend since
we were kids, after all."

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"Wow." Jeremy managed not to blink again by sheer
force of will. He was fairly sure that his eyes were wide
and possibly disbelieving, but that was fair enough.
Jeremy wasn't entirely sure that he did believe what he'd
just heard. He also wasn't sure what he wanted to do
about it, even if he decided that Uncle Frank was being
sincere. "I still don't know what to say. I mean, it's been
years, and you've always... I don't know."

His uncle nodded, a small, hopeful smile crossing his
lips. "You need time to think about it. I don't blame you.
Truth is, I've treated you like shit since your Aunt and
cousin died. Not because I wanted to, really. I think on
some level I might have thought that if I could control
your life, I could make sure I didn't lose you, too. But as
your friend Ballard pointed out, by trying to push you
into living your life the way I wanted you to, I lost you
anyway. So just think about it, Jeremy. I really want to
try repairing the damage I caused between us. We
haven't been close at all, since your Dad died, but maybe
we can be. I'd like it if we could find out."

"I'll let you know," Jeremy mumbled as he stood,
abandoning the uncomfortable chair. He turned, walking
quickly to door of his uncle's office, where he stopped
and turned back, his hand on the knob. "For the record,
Troy's not my 'friend.' He's my boyfriend. And I'm still
technically bi-sexual, but that doesn't mean I'll be
running around making babies with random women, or
even just one that you pick out for me. I. I'll be in
touch."

He really would, Jeremy decided as he made his way
from the building that housed the offices of Best's Fine
Furnishings and Antiques. He needed some time to

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figure out how he felt about the things his uncle had
said, but he would definitely have the decency to call the
man, at least. If only to say no, thanks. Yet he couldn't
help but think Uncle Frank had been being honest, and
that, well, it would be weird to have something like an
actual relationship with his uncle, but weird didn't
always mean bad.

Jeremy chuckled as he got into his car and headed
toward Troy's house, because sometimes -- not always
or even often, but sometimes -- weird was damned good.
The instant fiery heat and chemistry between him and
Troy was weird, but Jeremy couldn't imagine there
being anything better, so yeah. Weird could definitely be
good. Great. Whichever.

***

Troy was in the bath when he thought he heard a door.
Of course, he could have been wrong about that and
decided he was when his call of "Jeremy?" got no
response.

He tried to shrug it off, but something inside kept
nagging at him, keeping him from enjoying the rest of
his leisurely soak.

"I'm going to be really pissed if I go downstairs and he's
not even back yet," he grumbled to himself as he stood
carefully, moving slowly from the slick bath tub to the
small rug beside it.

He looked back at the warm, citrus-and-sandalwood
scented water, then sighed and leaned over, flipping the
lever that would drain the tub. As nice as it had been to

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just relax in that warmth, he'd still been somewhat tense
with wondering what was going on in Jeremy's meeting
with Frank Best. And there wasn't any law Troy knew of
that would prevent him from drawing another bath if
he'd been wrong about the sound he'd possibly
imagined.

Less than five minutes later, Troy was dry and dressed,
or as dressed as he planned on being for the rest of the
weekend. His usual silk drawstring lounging pants sat
low on his hips, this pair a nice apricot shade that
complemented his skin tone. He considered remaining
shirtless, but grabbed a pale green T-shirt at the last
moment and tugged it over his head as he started down
the stairs.

"Jeremy?" he said again, listening closely as he reached
the bottom of the staircase, but the house was silent. His
brow furrowing slightly, Troy made his way to the front
door and opened it, then nodded to himself when he saw
Jeremy's car parked by the curb.

Okay, he thought as he closed and locked the door again,
he's here. But not inside, which means...

Troy nodded to himself and made his way to the
kitchen. He pulled a beer from the fridge and opened it,
then let himself out onto the deck through the back door.

"Hey, honey," he greeted, biting the inside of his cheek.
He didn't know what Frank Best might have said to
Jeremy, but there was a good chance that Jeremy was
mad right then. It seemed likely, what with the way
Jeremy had come back to the house but gone outside
without even looking for him. By the same token,

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though, Jeremy had come back to Troy's, rather than
going to his own house. Troy had to believe that was a
good sign. "You okay?"

Jeremy didn't even look at him. Instead, the man just
lifted his own beer and took a slow swallow.

"I'm sorry, honey," Troy tried. "I really am. But it
seemed so stupid. You and your uncle being at odds. I
really just wanted to help. But I get it if you're pissed
off." Hell, Troy was expecting it. Had been, ever since
he'd first talked to Frank Best. He'd known he was on
borrowed time; he just hadn't been sure about how long
it would last. "Jeremy?"

Jeremy's free hand moved, pushing the empty chair
beside him away from the table, and Troy took is as the
invitation it so clearly was. No reason not to, after all. If
Jeremy was going to end things because Troy had
intruded into his family life, Troy figured he might deal
with it better sitting down, anyway.

"He apologized." Jeremy sounded a little bit stunned and
a whole lot baffled. "He said he was sorry, Troy. And...
God, he said so much stuff, I still haven't managed to
wrap my brain around it." He took another swallow of
beer, and so did Troy. "I think. I remember when I was a
kid," Jeremy went on, his voice soft, like he was living it
again, rather than just replaying a memory.

"Uncle Frank used to bring Rod over all the time. Rod
was a few years older, but he was so fucking cool, you
know? Or maybe it's just that any other kid who's older
and pays attention to you seems cool. Then my Dad died
and Uncle Frank didn't come around as much. Aunt

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 162

Elizabeth and Rod still did, but I was such a shit then."
Jeremy smiled just enough that Troy could see it in
profile.

"Aunt Elizabeth and Mom always said it wasn't my
fault. That Uncle Frank was just hurting. But so was I,
you know? Acting like a brat, hating everyone. And then
today." Jeremy sighed and took another swig from his
bottle. "I never really thought about how my Dad getting
stabbed and dying for the sixty-three bucks in his pocket
affected anyone but me and my Mom. But I could see
the hurt when Uncle Frank mentioned him. They were
best friends from the time they were both six, did you
know that?"

Troy felt his eyes tearing but he answered anyway, glad
to notice that his own voice sounded normal enough.
"No. I didn't."

Jeremy nodded a little. "They were. I think in some
ways, Uncle Frank missed my father more than I did. I
was just too young to know it. Maybe he still does. He
said I was stubborn like my Dad, but it was almost like
he was still living in a world where my Dad was alive.
Or maybe just reminding himself." Jeremy grinned, but
it was so pained and joyless, Troy wanted to grab him
and hold him tight. Troy didn't, but he wanted to. "I just
can't help wondering what Dad would think of me now,"
Jeremy added, barely loud enough to count as a whisper.
"I'm pretty sure Uncle Frank thinks I'm a freak. I just...
what would my Dad think of me? Would he be proud or
disappointed? I just don't know."

"Oh, honey." And fuck giving Jeremy space or
whatever. Troy abandoned his beer, leaving it on the

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 163

table as he reached out and grabbed Jeremy's chair then
pulled it toward his own. His arms rose, wrapping
around Jeremy as best they could with both of them still
seated, and he lifted himself a bit, half-crouching as he
pressed his face to Jeremy's hair.

"Anyone would be proud of you, honey," he asserted
against Jeremy's ear. "You're strong and smart and
focused on what you want. And you're doing whatever it
takes to get there. How could anybody be disappointed
by that? You're a good man, Jeremy Nelson. The best
man I've ever known." And while Troy hadn't really
thought about that before, there was no denying the fact
that it was true. Spur of the moment or not, it wasn't
even slightly false. Jeremy was... yeah. Which made the
sudden burst of what felt suspiciously like love in Troy's
chest easier to bear.

Jeremy's arms wrapped around him, suddenly enough
that Troy would have gasped if he hadn't been hoping
for just that reaction. As it was, he relaxed into that
matching hold, enjoying the simplicity of it, the sense of
all's-right-with-the-world that flowed through him.

"Uncle Frank said something else," Jeremy whispered a
few minutes later. "Something Riley said a while ago,
too. And they're both right."

Well, that was interesting. Troy couldn't pretend it
wasn't. He couldn't imagine two men more different than
Jeremy's partner and uncle. "What was that, honey?" he
murmured into Jeremy's hair. No need to mention his
surprise, after all. Troy was pretty sure Jeremy felt the
same sort of shock at Riley and Frank Best having a
common viewpoint.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 164

Jeremy pulled back, his arms loosening around Troy,
and while Troy missed the tight hold and the warmth of
Jeremy's body against his, at least those arms hadn't
released him completely.

"I'm gay." Jeremy said it like it was some sort of
admission. "I know I said I was bi, and I guess that's still
technically true, but I can't even imagine wanting a
woman anymore. I mean, I was always sort of whatever,
before. Like if someone clicked with me, it didn't matter
whether they were male or female. But even before I
met you, I knew I clicked more with guys, and then we
did meet and I can't even think what it would be like to
click with anyone else, so I guess that means I'm gay.
And like Riley said, if we get to a point where we want
to have kids, it'll need to involve a surrogate and a
turkey baster because I don't really want to fuck anyone
else, Troy. I don't. Not a woman and definitely not
another man. So I'm gay. And I don't want anyone but
you. Um. Is that okay?"

"That's more than okay," Troy managed to say, his
mouth suddenly dry. "You're sure about that?" Because
God knew he was beyond happy to hear it, and while the
notion of having kids had never really crossed his mind,
he could see it, all of a sudden. Just like his bizarre
notion of living with Jeremy and having a dog or two,
the concept of being with Jeremy long enough to have
and raise children, if they so chose, made him happy.
Happier than Troy had even thought possible. "Be very,
very sure," he advised.

Jeremy seemed to take that with the solemnity it
required because the man closed his eyes, as though

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 165

deep in thought, then opened them again and met Troy's
gaze.

"I know it's still really soon," Jeremy said. "I know we're
not in love yet or anything. But I think we could be. I
think, no, I know. I know I've never felt this way about
anyone, Troy. And I didn't plan on ever feeling so
connected to someone but I do, and it's you. So, yeah.
I'm gay and I'm yours, if you want me enough to keep
me. And I know we're going to have our problems, but I
have to believe we'll be able to get past them." Jeremy
blushed. "Um, the kids thing isn't a deal-breaker for me.
Just so's you know. It's more of a 'if we decide to, but
only if it's both of us' thing, okay?"

Troy could feel the smile starting in his belly. Odd place
for a smile to begin, but he couldn't deny it. It started in
his stomach and spread from there, it was so deep.

"Okay," he agreed, unable to look away from Jeremy's
wide gray eyes. "Okay doesn't even begin to cover it."

Troy wasn't sure about which of them leaned first. It
didn't even matter, really. Someone leaned, someone
matched the angle, and the next thing Troy knew, they
were kissing.

As always, it was hot. Steamy-hot. And it required
relocating to the bedroom, regardless of the fact that
they didn't make it that far for quite a while. It was
enough that they made it there eventually and ended the
evening wrapped tightly around each other, sated and
replete.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 166

There were a lot of questions left to answer. Troy knew
that. Like whether they would want to live together, and
if so, where. His house was newer, granted, but Jeremy's
house was classic -- and filled with antiques, though
Troy was fairly sure Jeremy didn't know as much. It was
a little bit odd, considering the business Jeremy's uncle
was in, but by the same token, Jeremy had pretty much
stated that he'd never been interested in furnishings. And
Jeremy's uncle wouldn't have volunteered the
information, considering what had been going on within
the very small family.

His own trust issues still existed, too. Troy couldn't
swear that he wouldn't freak out and go nuts if Jeremy
made new friends or whatever. He was surprisingly fine
with Jeremy spending time with Riley, though, and
hoped the other security guard would remain Jeremy's
primary friend.

"Go to sleep," Jeremy grumbled, his hand moving
lightly up and down Troy's side. "I can hear the gears
grinding, baby. Just let it go and sleep, okay?"

Troy smiled at the way Jeremy's exhausted breaths
gusted against his chest. "Okay, honey," he murmured,
closing his eyes yet again. "If you wake up tired, it'll be
because of what I'm doing to you in my dreams."

Jeremy yawned, then pressed a kiss to Troy's clavicle.
"Good. Make a mental note and do it for real when we
wake up. Night."

Troy was still smiling at that when he fell asleep, secure
in the notion that he and Jeremy would be just fine,
somehow.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 167

Chapter Thirteen

Troy Ballard was smiling, which wasn't exactly a shock.
He usually smiled, especially on his regular Margarita
Monday nights. His friends were smiling, too, which
again? Not so surprising. Good food, great Margaritas --
even if Troy did say so himself -- and the usual music
that ranged from the early eighties right through to the
latest releases being heard on the radio, and what was
there not to smile about?

Then his smile got even wider, feeling so broad that it
could have split his cheeks because Jeremy was there.

Yes, the last six months had been interesting as he and
Jeremy had felt each other out -- in the non-sexual sense,
though there had definitely been sex, too -- but they
were doing well. They weren't officially living together,
but Troy could count on one hand the number of nights
they'd spent apart since Jeremy's meeting with 'Uncle
Frank.'

They still hadn't talked about living together, or not
really, but they would soon enough. For the moment,
Troy was fine with alternating between their houses, and
if he were going to be honest, he was more than fond of
the house Jeremy had inherited. It was classic and
unique and only needed some TLC, which Troy might
not be able to provide himself, but he knew people.

And Jeremy knew people, too, Troy noticed for possibly
the five-millionth time as the man -- long and lean and
too fucking appealing -- was stopped repeatedly between
the front door and Troy's spot near the kitchen.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 168

A small part of Troy reared up at the hugs Jeremy
received and returned, but that same part crowed happily
when Jeremy managed to very politely avoid the kiss
Julian tried to lay on his cheek.

Yes, Troy was still jealous and suspicious, but he was
doing his best to push that part of his psyche down.
Jeremy hadn't given him any reason to doubt their
commitment and Troy wasn't willing to start a fight over
something that wasn't there. Besides which, he trusted
Jeremy. He didn't trust many others, though.

Then Jeremy saw him and moved faster, coming toward
him, and Troy couldn't help smiling.

"Honey," he said, forgetting everything else when
Jeremy finally made it through the crowd and pressed a
long, hard kiss to Troy's lips. "I almost thought you
weren't coming." Which sounded a hell of a lot better
than where the fuck have you been?

Jeremy chuckled and pulled him close again, those soft
lips against Troy's own, plundering his mouth when
joined by Jeremy's tongue, and Troy forgot what he'd
said; he forgot everything but the heat and need in their
kiss.

"Riley's having a bad week," Jeremy gasped, sounding
just as out of breath as Troy felt after that meeting of
lips and tongues. "He was waiting for me outside. Kept
me there for a good twenty minutes. God, I missed you."

It made sense, and Troy couldn't complain about
Jeremy's best friend needing some attention. As much as

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 169

Troy coveted Jeremy's time, Riley was just as much a
part of Jeremy's life as he was. And Riley was harmless,
as well as being friends with Pauly, James and Randy.
There was literally zero chance that Riley would be
vanishing from their circle. The man rarely managed to
have a Monday night off, but Riley was definitely a
presence in their lives. Troy even found it amusing when
Riley called attention to being the 'token straight guy' in
their group. He'd resorted to that designation after the
first time his claim to being the only 'chick hunter'
earned him a verbal slap-down from Toni and Toni's
girlfriend, Jen, who'd apparently been annoyed enough
that she hadn't stuttered even once.

"Missed you, too," Troy murmured. "I'll show you how
much once we're alone." He would, too. He was going to
fuck Jeremy until the poor boy couldn't move, much less
stand. "Now kiss me again, then we'll go mingle."

At some point, Troy knew, he would have to call Evan
to apologize for being so skeptical. Then again, Evan
likely already knew, considering how much Troy
mentioned Jeremy whenever they spoke. He couldn't
even be mad about it, though. Not when Jeremy was
there and kissing him. Evan would be entirely too
pleased with himself, but fuck it. Troy would let him
crow. That's what friends were for, after all. And the
same went for Pauly, which Pauly obviously knew,
judging by the smug and self-satisfied looks the guy
kept tossing toward him and Jeremy.

Yeah, Troy could deal. And he finally understood the
whole 'none so blind' thing, too. Because finally, he
could look at Jeremy and see.

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 170

***

It was amazing, Jeremy thought as he and Troy said
goodnight to the last of the party guests -- Pauly, James
and Randy, as usual -- amazing how much his life had
changed in the last six months.

He still didn't know exactly what Troy had said to Uncle
Frank, but he was fairly sure there was more to it than
either man was willing to admit. Whatever had actually
happened, whatever words had passed Troy's lips,
Jeremy didn't care enough to pry. It was enough that
things were different. Uncle Frank had loosened up,
some. Enough to actually let Jeremy access the funds his
grandmother had left.

He missed tooling around in the patrol car with Riley,
sometimes, but they still talked and hung out on the
weekends, and Jeremy couldn't deny that his classes
seemed easier now that he didn't need to decide between
work and school. He'd never been the sort to like half-
assing his way through. Another semester and he'd be
finished, though. It was a little bit scary, but it also felt
really good.

The same could be said of his relationship with Troy.
Scary but good. Luckily, the good outweighed the scary
by at least a factor of ten, but yeah, there was still a little
bit of fear there. Hell, Jeremy kept expecting to wake up
one day and find that they'd burned out or something.
He'd seen it happen before, though he'd never
experienced it. His own relationships, if he could call
them that, had always ended due to drifting apart,
usually because of Jeremy's schedule, and in one
memorable case, because the guy Jeremy had been

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 171

seeing wanted him to quit school and go work at the
same bar so they'd have more time together.

Troy was different, though. Troy was entirely unlike
anyone Jeremy had every known. His stomach still
flipped every time he looked at Troy, damn it. Had
pretty much from the start, when he'd plowed Troy over.
Best night of my life, even if I didn't know it then.

"Mmm. What's going on in that head of yours this time,
honey?" Jeremy smiled at the question, leaning back in
Troy's arms and enjoying the sensation of Troy's cheek
against his shoulder. "You get all introspective at the
oddest times."

Jeremy laughed. He couldn't help it. "I know," he
answered, turning in Troy's arms and leaning down just
enough to brush Troy's lips with his own. "I was just
thinking about that first night. I'm glad I busted through
your door, even if it wasn't exactly professional."

"I'm glad, too. You know, I still get all giggly when
Riley calls Julian 'Glass-ass.' It suits him, though." Troy
proved his own words by chuckling. He might call it
giggling, but Jeremy had yet to hear anything that silly
leave Troy's lips. "I'm pretty sure I even heard Pauly call
him that, earlier tonight, so maybe it's catching on."

Jeremy shrugged, not really caring. "Good. I hope it
pisses him off. Julian, I mean. Not Pauly." He pressed
closer to Troy, his own arms just as tight as Troy's were
around him. "So, we should clean up, I guess. And then
get to bed. It's getting late."

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Troy snorted. "Please. As if I don't know your schedule
just as well as you do. It's only one-thirty and you don't
have classes until two o'clock tomorrow afternoon. We
can clean in the morning, honey. Right now..." Jeremy
groaned softly as Troy rocked against him, cock hard
enough to feel through denim and cotton.

"I've had all sorts of naughty little plans running through
my mind tonight, honey," Troy murmured, those pretty
green eyes hot and sharp. "None of them involve
keeping house."

"Just playing house, huh?" Jeremy's arms loosened, one
hand sliding up to tangle in Troy's blond hair while the
other dropped, fingers grasping a large handful of
slacks-covered ass and squeezing. "I can deal with that."

It was Troy's turn to moan, and he did, shifting slowly
against Jeremy until Jeremy thought he might come
from that alone. "Troy, please."

"Bed, honey," Troy said, and it sounded like an order.
"Bed and naked and lube. And if you want to beg some
more when we're there, you know I won't mind at all."

Yeah, Jeremy knew. He knew so well, his huge grin
might not fade for hours. Troy got off on hearing Jeremy
beg, just like Jeremy enjoyed it when Troy got bossy
and demanding. Which wasn't all the time, but that was
good, too. Variety and whatever.

"You realize you'll need to let go of me if you want me
to make it up the stairs," Jeremy said a moment later.
"I'm not that good at walking with your hand down the
back of my pants."

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Troy hummed softly against his neck and Jeremy tilted
his head, giving Troy more skin. "We'll have to work on
that, honey," Troy whispered, leaning up just enough for
the small breath of air to find Jeremy's ear. "Because I
don't have any plans that involve letting go of you. Ever,
if I can help it." Then that mouth, those teeth were
playing at his throat and Jeremy grunted something that
could have been good or fine or even thank God; Jeremy
didn't know, himself.

Whatever it was, it seemed to be enough for Troy,
though, and as that was what mattered, Jeremy went
with it. Hell, he could go with it for the rest of his life, if
given the chance, and he had a feeling he would be.

He would never be sure about how they'd actually made
it through the house and up to Troy's room, but they had.
They'd even managed to undress, because Troy was on
him and in him, shuddering and panting already.

Of course, so was Jeremy. His own shaking and gasping
didn't last long, but then again, it rarely did when they
were so anxious, so damned ready. His body jerked,
pushing up onto Troy's cock with one last, hard shove,
and Jeremy's "Yesss," hissed out between them, just as
viscous heat burst from him to slick his own skin.

Troy's face was tight when Jeremy managed to open his
eyes again. Tight and intent, green gaze spearing Jeremy
just as much as Troy's cock did. "Now," Troy grunted
and Jeremy nodded, his hands tightening on Troy's arms,
legs clenching Troy's slender hips more tightly. "Now,
honey," Troy repeated, somehow moving harder,
thrusting faster, stabbing deep as his rhythm

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 174

disintegrated, stuttered, then stopped with one last,
rough pistoning motion.

Jeremy moaned softly, enjoying the sensation of heat
spilling deep inside his body, and when Troy started to
relax, the tension leaving the man's muscles bit by bit,
Jeremy didn't let go. He just held Troy there, on him, in
him, and breathed.

"I think I need to send your ex a fruit basket or
something," Jeremy said later. He was half asleep, but
the thought had just come to him and wouldn't stay
locked inside his head. "If he hadn't been stupid enough
to cheat on you, you might have still been with him
when I met you. That would have sucked." He yawned.

Troy went completely still beside him. He even stopped
breathing for a second. "I. Okay. I never. Huh."

Jeremy frowned, half asleep becoming not at all asleep,
just like that. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Shit."

"No, no, it's fine," Troy mumbled. "I just realized I
would have ended up being the cheater, Jeremy. I don't
think I could have resisted you. Hell, honey, I was single
and I barely held off until the second time we met."

"Third," Jeremy answered, feeling a little bit sheepish.
"When we kissed in the kitchen. That was the third time
we met."

"Yes, but I would have been all over you the second
time if I hadn't been worried that you were only hitting
on me because you broke my door." Troy chuckled, his
head moving on Jeremy's chest. "But the point is, maybe

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 175

I've been too hard on Julian. I mean, if he had anything
like the reaction to Richard that I had to you? Maybe
we're both exactly where we're supposed to be now."

Jeremy's eyes rolled in the early morning darkness. "I
think you're being way too nice. But as long as he
doesn't all of a sudden decide he wants you back, I don't
much care what his reasons were. I don't care, and I
don't share. Especially not with someone who already
broke your heart once."

Troy sat up, then, leaving Jeremy's side chilly for lack of
him. "He didn't break my heart, honey," Troy said softly,
the small bit of moonlight from outside gleaming on his
skin. "He only bruised it a little. There's only one person
who can break my heart, and I trust you not to. I really
do."

It was the closest either of them had come to mentioning
love in months, and Jeremy had actually been fine with
that. Had even told himself he understood Troy's
reticence. But that comment, those words and the way
they had his heart beating faster and harder, all of a
sudden? Well, that told Jeremy he'd been lying. To
himself, if no one else, but even so, he wasn't sure
whether Troy was ready to hear it. To hear those three
little words that so many people flung about far too
easily.

One hand rose to cup Troy's slightly stubbled jaw and
Jeremy smiled in the near-darkness. "I promise I'll keep
it safe, Troy. Just tell me you won't be breaking mine."

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 176

"Never," Troy agreed solemnly. Then he moved again
and lay back down, one hand on Jeremy's chest. "Never,
honey. I like it whole and mine."

Jeremy's smile grew, even as the sleepiness he'd
shrugged off started to return. "I'll hold you to that," he
said, a yawn nearly cracking his jaw.

And thank God, he thought fuzzily as he slipped deeper
into sleep. Thank God for noise complaints and broken
doors and the instant attraction that had turned into so
much more than Jeremy had expected. Thank God for
Margarita Mondays. Long may they reign.

If you liked this book you might like: Lemon Yellow:
Making Lemonade
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product_info&products_id=2219)

Lime Green: Margarita Mondays - 177