my hair and a set of warm arms wrap around me. Josh. For a half-second there, I almost forgot about calling him last night. He’s a good friend, if you can call a fuck buddy a friend.
He drove for an hour and a half after a long day of work when I sent him that text last night. He showed up here with a bottle of whiskey, even though he knows I have more than enough at my disposal, and yeah, it could have been just because he wanted to get laid, but it felt like more than that. For the first time since we met, it felt like he was actually reaching out as a friend.
Newcastle is a hell of a lot bigger than Red Maine, but I know Josh doesn’t have a lot of close friends, and we may put on our big gay panties every day and send a big fuck you to the world, but that life gets lonely. Sure, I could try harder to be what this town considers socially acceptable, but that wouldn’t be me, that would be me pretending. And I’d be fucking miserable . I spent too much time as a kid pretending to be something I wasn’t. I won’t go back there again. Not for anyone.
I sit up, and Josh’s snore deepens. I turn and flick his morning wood with my thumb and forefinger, and he startles awake. Chuckling, I stare out the window at the ocean below.
“Shit, what time is it?”
“Just on six,” I mutter without having to look at the clock. Every fucking day without fail, I wake at the arse-crack of dawn. Josh groans and flops back on the bed, and I turn to look at him. The sheet is tangled up around his feet and he’s naked head to toe, and sporting a decent-sized erection this morning. He catches me staring and laughs. “You wanna go again before I have to leave?”
I raise a brow at him. This is not the first time he’s spent the night. Neither one of us read anything more into it than we have to, and normally I’d be all over that shit because really, what better way to start the day than morning sex? But recent events have a habit of catching up with me in the harsh light of day, and from the second my eyes sprung open, there was another man on my mind.
Isn’t there always ?
“Nah,” I say, and stand up. My cock bobs with the weight of my morning wood and Josh grins as his gaze rolls appreciatively over me.
“Shit, you’re a sight for sore eyes, Will.”
I grin at that, because it’s nice to be wanted. I don’t go to a gym. Sometimes I run on the track that overlooks the ocean when I need to clear my head, and carrying boxes of booze all day has my lifting covered. I’m six-foot, two-inches and leanly muscled, and despite the tattoos, the piercings, the drink, and the fact that I smoke too much weed, I take pretty good care of myself.
Josh’s not too bad either. He has kind of a stocky, gym-bunny build, and a short but thick cock to top it off.
“I gotta take a shower and get ready for deliveries,” I say. “But you can stay as long as you want—just don’t get come on my sheets.”
“You ever think about taking the day off, Will?”
“And miss out on all the action that the town drunks of Red Maine can provide? Never.”
“You ever think about getting out of this town for more than just a quick fuck at Sinners? Or, I don’t know, dating someone?” he asks. I shoot a glare in his direction. We don’t date. We fuck. We have fun. Sometimes we talk and then fuck, but neither one of us reads more into that. As though he senses my irritation he says, “Jesus, would you relax. I’m not asking for me. I’m perfectly happy being the man you invite to your bed at midnight and kick out before dawn.”
My heart gives a little lurch at that. Yeah, I’m pretty much an A-grade arsehole .
“I know better than anyone how isolating this life can be. I know you’re still in love with him, and I hate to be the one to say it, but I don’t think he’s ever going to come around, which leaves you with two choices. You can die alone, an angry, surly bartender, or you can put yourself out there and
He drove for an hour and a half after a long day of work when I sent him that text last night. He showed up here with a bottle of whiskey, even though he knows I have more than enough at my disposal, and yeah, it could have been just because he wanted to get laid, but it felt like more than that. For the first time since we met, it felt like he was actually reaching out as a friend.
Newcastle is a hell of a lot bigger than Red Maine, but I know Josh doesn’t have a lot of close friends, and we may put on our big gay panties every day and send a big fuck you to the world, but that life gets lonely. Sure, I could try harder to be what this town considers socially acceptable, but that wouldn’t be me, that would be me pretending. And I’d be fucking miserable . I spent too much time as a kid pretending to be something I wasn’t. I won’t go back there again. Not for anyone.
I sit up, and Josh’s snore deepens. I turn and flick his morning wood with my thumb and forefinger, and he startles awake. Chuckling, I stare out the window at the ocean below.
“Shit, what time is it?”
“Just on six,” I mutter without having to look at the clock. Every fucking day without fail, I wake at the arse-crack of dawn. Josh groans and flops back on the bed, and I turn to look at him. The sheet is tangled up around his feet and he’s naked head to toe, and sporting a decent-sized erection this morning. He catches me staring and laughs. “You wanna go again before I have to leave?”
I raise a brow at him. This is not the first time he’s spent the night. Neither one of us read anything more into it than we have to, and normally I’d be all over that shit because really, what better way to start the day than morning sex? But recent events have a habit of catching up with me in the harsh light of day, and from the second my eyes sprung open, there was another man on my mind.
Isn’t there always ?
“Nah,” I say, and stand up. My cock bobs with the weight of my morning wood and Josh grins as his gaze rolls appreciatively over me.
“Shit, you’re a sight for sore eyes, Will.”
I grin at that, because it’s nice to be wanted. I don’t go to a gym. Sometimes I run on the track that overlooks the ocean when I need to clear my head, and carrying boxes of booze all day has my lifting covered. I’m six-foot, two-inches and leanly muscled, and despite the tattoos, the piercings, the drink, and the fact that I smoke too much weed, I take pretty good care of myself.
Josh’s not too bad either. He has kind of a stocky, gym-bunny build, and a short but thick cock to top it off.
“I gotta take a shower and get ready for deliveries,” I say. “But you can stay as long as you want—just don’t get come on my sheets.”
“You ever think about taking the day off, Will?”
“And miss out on all the action that the town drunks of Red Maine can provide? Never.”
“You ever think about getting out of this town for more than just a quick fuck at Sinners? Or, I don’t know, dating someone?” he asks. I shoot a glare in his direction. We don’t date. We fuck. We have fun. Sometimes we talk and then fuck, but neither one of us reads more into that. As though he senses my irritation he says, “Jesus, would you relax. I’m not asking for me. I’m perfectly happy being the man you invite to your bed at midnight and kick out before dawn.”
My heart gives a little lurch at that. Yeah, I’m pretty much an A-grade arsehole .
“I know better than anyone how isolating this life can be. I know you’re still in love with him, and I hate to be the one to say it, but I don’t think he’s ever going to come around, which leaves you with two choices. You can die alone, an angry, surly bartender, or you can put yourself out there and
Similar Books
