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Published by

Dreamspinner Press

5032 Capital Circle SW
Suite 2, PMB# 279
Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886

USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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© 2013 Garrett Leigh.

Cover Art

© 2013 G.D. Leigh.

[email protected]

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/.

ISBN: 978-1-62798-147-7

Digital ISBN: 978-1-62798-148-4

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

October 2013

For Big G and the Mini G’s. Love you as big as the sky.

For my partners in crime, Paula, Carla, and Nic.

Also my original taskmasters, Jacque and Zoe.

Special thanks to Kaje Harper

for the last-minute words of wisdom.

His eyes blazed at me, but it was the best kind of heat. He smiled, and for the first time in my life I believed that, for him, I could be more than I’d ever dreamed.

January 2009

Pete

N
IGHT
shifts sucked. I turned my back on the station house and stepped out into the bitter night. Yeah. Winter night shifts sucked even more. Chicago was cold, really cold, but even as my breath misted in the freezing air, I couldn’t raise the energy to care. I could take the subway, but I’d made that mistake before and slept past my stop, not waking up until the train pulled into Lakeview. Fuck that shit. I needed my bed.

Instead, I trudged across town, dead on my feet and my mind on autopilot. In some ways, it felt almost surreal to be finally heading home; the long night had seemed unending. After five years as a city paramedic I was used to it, but it didn’t get any easier.

With my mind a blank haze of exhaustion, the walk seemed to pass quickly. I pushed open the exterior door to the dilapidated building I called home with a wry grin. I could almost hear my bed calling to me. Maybe zoning out wasn’t so bad after all.

I wandered dazedly along the corridor until I reached the door to my apartment. Typically, my key got stuck in the lock. I muttered a curse as I tried to manipulate it quietly, but it didn’t work, and the door creaked open with an obnoxious groan. I winced, pausing, but heard no response to my fumbling.
Good
. Damn thing needed oiling, but it was just one of those chores that never got done.

A hot shower soothed my aching body, but I only lingered long enough to wash the day away. I dried quickly, threw on some sweats, turned out the light, and padded across the hallway. The scraps of paper pinned to every wall caught my eye. Sketches. Designs. Stencils. There was no order to them—no rhyme or reason. Just a load of drafted tattoos stuck up all over my place. The flurry of creativity made me smile, as it always did. The fucker had a studio right here in the apartment, but some shit never changed.

I eased the bedroom door shut. The room was dark and still, but I quickly found the outlined shape of the renegade artist in my bed.

Ash
.

I slid under the covers and scooted across to look at him. He was stretched out on his back with his arm flung over his head, his surfer-blond hair a riot against the light-gray pillow. His face was peaceful, which eased my guilt; he didn’t like sleeping alone. I cast my gaze around the room as the tension of the night began to seep out of me, spotting the stack of his books on the nightstand. I shook my head, letting the soft rush of love and awe sweep over me. The boy never ceased to amaze me. He’d worked all day and drawn all night, and he still took books to bed. Unbidden, I reached out to touch his chest, but I caught my hand before I could feel the warmth of his bare skin. If I touched him, I’d never stop. He was sexy as hell when he was asleep and at ease.

A low chuckle startled me. “Are you going to stare all night? Some of us are trying to sleep.”

I dove for him, smirking, and attempted to push him off the side of the bed. We wrestled for a minute, but he was too quick for me, his instincts too sharp. He had me pinned in seconds. I rolled onto my side to face him, grinning as he ran his shrewd gaze over me, taking in my heavy, drooping eyes. He reached out and touched my cheek; a cheek I knew was dark with two days of Italian stubble. “Long night?”

“Factory fire,” I said around a jaw-popping yawn. “Three busloads of burned-up dudes covered in soot. It took a while to clean up.”

He shuddered and made a face. Burns gave him the creeps. “Tired?”

I nodded and yawned again, but despite the soothing lull of his warm body, I kept my eyes open. I’d missed him over the past few days. He worked a lot, and I worked even more. Sometimes, we could go a week without seeing each other awake. Inevitably, my mind fell into the gutter. However long it had been, there were better things we could do than talk about work. He caught the direction of my thoughts, as he always did, and raised a challenging eyebrow. Unable to resist, I leaned in to kiss him, softly at first, but then harder as the familiar spark between us ignited.

We slammed together. He grasped the back of my neck and held me in place, his lips busy on my neck. I arched into him and ran my fingers down the length of his spine, instinctively tracing the smattered patches of uneven, raised skin. It was my habit to catalogue every mysterious scar that littered his back; these days I did it without inventory and didn’t pay much attention to the way they made me feel. But he knew—he always knew. His ragged puffs of air were hot on my clenched jaw as he slowly kissed the tension away.

Sweatpants and boxers were gone in an instant, littering the bedroom floor. Ash reached for my dick, but I rolled away and pulled him up to straddle my chest. I took him in my mouth and his whispered curse pierced the air. It had been too long, far too long since I’d given him the attention he deserved. Giving head was never my thing before I met him, but he changed everything about me. He was like an addiction, an all-consuming habit of the best kind. I wanted him in every way possible, whenever and wherever I could have him.

I set to work driving him crazy, and it didn’t take long. He fell back on his hands and groaned out a long curse as I grazed the length of his dick with my teeth. I gripped his strong thighs, working him just a little bit faster, but as his legs began to shake, he suddenly pulled away. His stormy eyes held me in place. “You’re so hot when you do that.”

Breathless, I returned his stare. It was dark and late, but I wasn’t done with him yet. Flushed and licking his lips, he was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. He tilted his head, attuned to my mood, as always. “Like that, is it?”

Before I could answer, he swooped down and claimed my mouth, catching me off guard. I fell back on the bed, moaning, and there wasn’t an inch between any part of our intertwined bodies. He grinned against my lips, amused that he’d turned the tables so easily, and made short work of dishing out his own devilish brand of revenge. His deceptively light touch was demanding—a reminder that
he
owned
me
. I couldn’t take it for long; I needed more. But before I could blink, he flipped us and pressed his back into the mattress.

“I want to do it like this.”

I rocked our bodies together and circled my hips, feeling him hard against me. “Just like this?”

He shook his head, his eyes suddenly nervous. “
This
way.”

I froze, and the air around us abruptly shifted. He didn’t often let me fuck him. In fact, it was so rare, for a moment I didn’t think I could do it.

Ash held my face in his hands, sensing my hesitation, and kissed me slow and deep. His hands were strong, and his lips steady and sure. He slipped his tongue into my mouth and worked his magic until my nerves faded away to a gentle whisper.

Cautiously, I reached over his head to the space between the mattress and the headboard for our hidden stash of condoms and lube. Then I slipped a wet finger into him, preparing him for me. I was gentle, but he bit down on his lip with his eyes screwed shut. I felt a rush of frustration. I wanted him to look at me, but I knew he wouldn’t. Steeling himself for what came next was too consuming. In an effort to soothe him, I reached up and placed my palm over his racing heart. “Breathe, Ash.”

It took some time, but eventually he pulled my body up to signal he was ready to move on. I withdrew from my fingers carefully from his body. He jumped, skittish already. I leaned down and kissed him. It was a long, deep, stirring kiss that stoked the heat between us and threatened to wipe my mind of anything but the feel of him beneath me, but I fought for control. I was aching, desperate to be inside him, but I had to be careful. One wrong move and he’d be gone from the bed like a shot.

He rolled a condom onto me, and a low moan built in my throat. I gripped the headboard and my head fell back. Just his lightest touch sent shivers through my overstimulated body. He pulled me toward him again, and the very tip of my cock touched him. I edged forward and watched him carefully. Waiting. Waiting for what I knew was coming—the resistance, the flash of panic, the ingrained fear of having someone,
anyone
, touch him like that.

Seconds later, it was his turn to freeze. His eyes darkened, and he went rigid in my arms. With sadly practiced motions, I took my hands from the headboard, ready to move in either direction. His torso twitched as he fought with himself. He wanted to lash out, to shove me away and run from the room and out into the night.

He gasped as he finally controlled his reaction. I put a tentative hand on his thigh, dismayed to find it shaking. “It’s okay. Just breathe. It’s okay.”

Slowly, he wound his arms around my neck, pulled me down, and hid his face in my chest. I gave him a moment, matching his deep breaths, but then I pulled back, asking him a silent question. In answer, he held my gaze and flexed his hips just a fraction. “Don’t stop.”

I stared at him. Despite his distress, he was still hard between us, and, more importantly, still in the bed. I reached out and cupped his face with my hand. “You’ve just got to say the word, okay?”

He nodded. Just once. But it was enough.

I moved over him again, holding his leg loosely against my chest, and brought my cock back to his body. I eased into him slowly, but despite the painstaking pace, his body still instinctively rejected the intrusion. The urge to give up was strong as I waited for his inevitable discomfort to ease. For me, this was always the hardest part. Fucking him was amazing, a privilege I rarely got to experience, but I didn’t get off on hurting him. Though it was a necessary evil on our way to something incredible, everything about it felt wrong.

His eyes fluttered open. He didn’t speak, but I heard him all the same.
Now
.