The Arrangement
Carter Haywood lives for the weekends, specifically the one weekend every month when he escapes real life, with all the pressures of work and caring for his special-needs brother, to do whatever he wants, with whomever he wants. Sex is only a release; he’s not looking for love, a relationship, or even a second night with the same man, until he walks into a bar and finds someone who makes leaving it all behind impossible. After one incredibly passionate encounter, he breaks his rule and goes back. He needs to see this man again. And again.
Damaged goods. That’s all Reed Kincaide sees and hears when he looks in the mirror. Anxiety and ADHD define his life, and he’s learned to keep people at a distance, never letting them get close enough to know who he really is. When Carter proposes a monthly weekend of sex without strings, it’s the ideal arrangement for him. Or so he thinks. Every month, leaving Carter proves to be more and more difficult. It’s not only the intensely hot sex they have in their hotel suite; Reed wonders about the secret life Carter refuses to share. As months pass and they grow closer Reed finds himself falling for Carter, but he needs more than hurried hugs and farewell kisses. He wants it all.
Letting Reed into his carefully constructed family life could upset Carter’s whole world, but it might be the risk he’s finally willing to take if it means keeping Reed. Once bodies are engaged, the heart is sure to follow, and Carter and Reed discover that holding on to each other is the first step in letting go of the past.
The Arrangement
July 2016
Copyright © 2016 by Felice Stevens
Kobo Edition
Cover Art by: Reese Dante
Cover Photography by Alejandro Caspe
Edited by Keren Reed
Copyediting and Proofreading services provided by Flat Earth Editing
All rights reserved
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 written permission from Felice Stevens at
www.felicestevens.com
.
Published in the United States of America
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
To my children who keep me in check, every day
Thank you to my editor, Keren Reed for all her hard work. To Hope and Jessica from Flat Earth Editing, you guys are great, even if you do make me put glasses on the table and not on the floor. To Dianne Thies, thank you for being there and obsessing with me. Thanks to Carroll Poe and S.c. Wynne for keeping me sane, sort of. And to the readers, especially those in my reader group, Felice’s Fierce Fans, you guys continue to inspire me. Especially with your pictures of Carter Dane.
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by Felice Stevens
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“C
ome on, Jackson,
you know it’s only for a few days. I’ll be back late Sunday night.”
Carter Haywood kneeled on the front stoop of the house he shared with his ten-year-old half-brother and forced a smile. As he did every month, Carter wrestled with his guilt and wondered if he was being selfish by leaving for the weekend. He loved his little brother dearly, and where most of his acquaintances spent their nights and weekends either hooking up at bars if they were single or being all domesticated and cute if they were married, Carter went straight home and did homework, worked on therapy exercises, and before he fell asleep, jerked off to nameless, sometimes even faceless guys whose profiles he saw online.
With certainty, Carter knew if he didn’t get away on these monthly jaunts, the pressure of not only his job, but being the sole caretaker of a child with special needs would consume him, and he might end up resentful and angry. Carter had precious little time to call his own. Not to mention it was the only opportunity he had carved out for actual physical sex with a person instead of his hand. And tonight would have to be the only night this weekend for fun and games, as he had a charity function on Saturday night that as a board member, he had to attend. Alone.
Sex with whatever man he’d find this weekend was the furthest thing from Carter’s mind at the moment, with Jackson’s soulful gray eyes gazing up at him, glittering with unshed tears. Carter felt like an absolute shit and was about to say
fuck it
, and stay, when Helen, knowing how he tortured himself every month, took control and said in her most cheerful voice, “Jackson will have the best time this weekend. After therapy tomorrow we’re going to go to the Hall of Science, right?” With genuine fondness, she placed her hands on Jacks’s shoulders and gave him a gentle squeeze.
In a flash, Jackson’s mood shifted, and his face lit up. “Yes.”
Carter relaxed at his brother’s spoken word. From the start, Jackson had been heartbreakingly silent, only occasionally verbalizing in school and at home. Recently, the paraprofessional who sat with Jacks during school reported he’d begun to participate in classroom discussion, and it gave Carter a little more positive reinforcement that all the therapy and help he’d given Jacks worked. And their neighbor Helen, a retired special education teacher, was probably the one person in the world he trusted to leave Jackson with.
“Go on, Carter. You know we’ll be fine.” Her reassuring smile took the edge off the constant worry that gnawed at him that no matter how much he did—the different therapies, the psychiatrist, the medications—it was never enough. That he wasn’t equipped to handle a child with problems. The last thing he wanted to do was fail his brother; all they had was each other.
“I’ll bring you back a present, Jacks. A surprise.”
Carter wasn’t certain Jackson always understood him, but by his bright smile and unexpected hug, he knew he’d been given the green light to leave. Swallowing down his emotions, he passed his hand over his eyes in an attempt to brush away the wetness and was met with Helen’s tender look.
“I’ll call you tonight and send you a video as usual. Maybe we’ll make cookies; how about that, Jacks?” She deliberately turned them both away to head back inside the house as Carter juggled his garment bag and small overnight case and hurried down the steps to the black car idling at the curb. Traffic into the city on any night was a bitch, but on a Friday night it could actually take an hour from his house in Brooklyn to the hotel he always stayed at in Times Square.
“Sorry to make you wait, Harry, but we’re ready to roll. I’m gonna take a nap.”
“Go for it, Carter. I’ll wake you up when we get there. Might as well rest up for the weekend.”
What used to stir his blood in his mid-twenties didn’t set him off now that he was thirty-two. Attracting guys had never been a problem for him; he’d been fucking guys since he was sixteen and walked in on Troy Latham jerking off in the shower after football practice. His dick hardened at the memory of Troy’s wet lips sucking him off as hot water spilled down over them and him sinking into Troy’s tight ass later on in the back seat of his car.
No, finding guys to fuck wasn’t an issue. Over the years, it had been easy enough to walk away in the morning before the man had the chance to walk away from him. He’d learned long ago to hold on to that power; never let them see you cry or hurt. Never let them think you might care—it made you vulnerable, weak, and at risk. The problem was, how long could he go on taking one weekend a month to screw his brains out, leaving the rest of his life devoid of human touch?
Yet Carter smothered any thoughts of a relationship or even dating. He couldn’t take the chance and disrupt Jackson’s life by bringing a stranger into their little family unit. It had taken almost a year for Jacks to learn to trust him after their mother dumped him off and ran, and Carter wasn’t about to jeopardize his young brother’s health for a random piece of ass.
The car bumped its way onto the entrance ramp to the Brooklyn Bridge, and Carter slouched in the soft leather seat, the prospects of a nap long forgotten. In his twenties he’d been busy building up his business; he’d meet someone in a bar, and they’d hook up once, never twice. His schedule of late night meetings and constant travel precluded any serious dating. Then it seemed he blinked and here he was in his early thirties and alone.
His phone buzzed, and his lips curved in a smile when he saw Helen had uploaded a video of her and Jacks already making the promised cookies. How wrong he was—he wasn’t alone. No matter how crappy a day he had, coming home to the innocence of his little brother always chased away the darkness inside, if only for a little while.
Harry pulled up in front of the hotel in Times Square, and Carter, still watching the video, opened the car door and absentmindedly said, “Good night, Harry. See you here on Sunday.”
“Have a good one, Carter.”
“You too.”
Hefting his bags, Carter kept walking and watching the video. God knows, he didn’t ever want kids of his own and barely tolerated other people’s children, but when Jacks faced the camera and gave him a shy wave, Carter’s heart seized up in his chest. He touched the screen as if it would bring him closer to the little boy he’d left behind.
Restless and edgy after checking in, Carter knew it was too early to go out, so he stripped and got into the shower. The hot water beating down on his tight shoulders achieved its desired effect; his muscles loosened and conversely his dick hardened. He might as well take the edge off now, Carter mused as he took himself in hand and with practiced strokes that had him quivering within minutes, brought himself to a climax onto the shower floor. His breath hitched in his throat, and he blinked several times to bring his surroundings back into focus. His strength sapped, Carter watched the running water mixed with his semen swirl down the drain.
A familiar lassitude stole through him, and Carter now craved that nap he didn’t catch on the car ride over. After a quick soap and rinse off, he wrapped himself in the terrycloth robe kindly provided by the hotel, then lay down on the king-size bed and let sleep overtake him, wondering who’d be sharing the bed with him tonight.
Six hours later, Carter sat hunched over his drink at the last bar he planned on hitting up that evening. Although he’d danced and drank at several other places, no one had caught his eye long enough to make him look twice. This place wasn’t a gay bar, but it happened to have an extremely good-looking male population, and Carter spotted some potential bed partners, including the sexy bartender he believed had been sending him signals, although he seemed delightfully shy about it. He liked the man’s strong neck and full, plush lips and imagined them wrapped around his cock.
Noticing his glass was empty, Carter lifted it to catch the bartender’s attention and winked when their eyes met. At the sight of the blush staining the bartender’s face under the obligatory scruff, Carter surmised he might have found his playmate for the evening.