Black Point

 

 

By

 

 

A.J. Llewellyn

and D.J. Manly

 

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

 

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Black Point

Copyright ã 2008 AJ Llewellyn & DJ Manly

ISBN: 978-1-55487-124-7

Cover art by Martine Jardin

 

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

 

Published by eXtasy Books

Look for us online at:

www.extasybooks.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedication

 

 

To Our Fantastic Readers, With Love

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

"Can I come out now?"

"I thought you were out?" Sandra Evans chuckled.

"Very funny," Thomas growled. "You know what I mean."

"You're a best selling author, Tom. Why would you want to screw it all up?"

"Because I'm feeding a prejudice, helping to support the myth that men have no emotions."

"Don't be ridiculous. No one said men don't have any emotions. They said men can't write romance."

"Yes, apparently all men are capable of writing, is porn."

His publisher laughed.

"It's not funny."

"Look, Thomas. Some people think that way, that's all. "

"That's why writers like me should reveal themselves."

"You into exhibitionism now? Hey, how about something like that in your next book? A male stripper who--"

"Sandra, focus. I'm dead serious about this. Why can't I just come out and say my name is Thomas Carter?"

"Because your fans think you're Rose Carter."

"What in the hell difference does it make? My writing isn't going to change."

He could hear Sandra sigh on the other end of the phone. "Thomas, why this sudden interest in coming out as a man? Could it have something to do with Matt Malone?"

Matt Malone. Had it been that noticeable? "Well, he's out, he's a man and he's a writer in the same genre as I am. He even declared that he was gay the other night on my Yahoo group."

"My God, you got a thing for Matt Malone!" She was howling with laughter.

"I do not."

"You're always flirting with him online. I've noticed that lately and he's flirting back."

"I do not flirt with Matt Malone. And Malone flirts with all the ladies. You're losing focus again, Sandra. My point is, he's a guy and he's accepted in this genre."

"Yes, but he only has two books out, you have over fifty. You started a few years back when all the writers were female, or at least, appeared to be. You're a top selling author, Thomas, a veteran. He's a virgin."

"I bet he's not a virgin," Thomas murmured.

 "You know what I mean. We can't do anything to jeopardize your sales. I was talking to Matt the other day. He admires you."

"Yeah? What did he say about me?"

"He said, it's too bad Rose is female, she'd be perfect for me."

 "That was low. He didn't say that."

Sandra was laughing again. "No, he didn't say that. It's a joke. He didn't say anything about you being a woman."

"Ahem, Sandra, I'm not a woman."

"I know that. He said you were his mentor. One of the reasons he had the courage to write was because of you. Not to mention that he jerks off to your books."

"I'm hanging up now."

She laughed again.

"Maybe we can just tell Matt I'm a guy?"

"We don't tell anyone. Matt could let it slip by accident. Now, get off this trip and get to work. I need those edits from you pronto."

"Yeah, yeah, you'll have the edits."

"And I expect you to be at the promo thing tonight. Your fans miss you."

"I'll be there. Haven't I shown up to most of them?"

"Except when you have some boyfriend problem."

"No worries, I'm temporarily boyfriend less and you better hope I find a new one soon. My inspiration for those hot male-male sex scenes is quickly drying up."

"Try the personals. Hire a male hooker."

"You paying?"

"I will, if it means you'll give me three more books before the holidays."

"Classy."

"Hang up, Rose."

Thomas sighed.

"Oh, I have another idea, pick up one of Matt's books. You might find some inspiration there."

"I've read both of them."

"Pretty good, eh? You better go out to a gay bar, pick up some inspiration and then get your sweet ass back to the computer. And I've seen it, it's very, very nice."

"My computer?"

"No, your ass."

Thomas shook his head. "Good thing I love you."

"I love you, too, Rosie girl. Now write."

Thomas put down the phone.

Matt Malone was a brand new writer on the net. Sandra had accepted his first book two months ago. Since then, he had come out with a sequel, both complete with intriguing plots, gorgeous men and hotter than hot sex. Thomas had been intrigued by him almost immediately. He was sociable, seemed anxious to get his name out there and full of compliments for Thomas's writing. Experiencing a dry spell both in and out of bed, Thomas took the time to read Matt's work. He was impressed. His words jumped right out at him and held him captive, touching his very soul. It was as if Matt was speaking directly to him. Thomas took the time to drop him an email telling him how much he'd enjoyed the books. Matt wrote back almost immediately.

 

Rose,

My God, I'm speechless. Thanks so much. Coming from you, it means everything. I will keep this email for the rest of my life.

Matt

 

Thomas had no idea what Matt looked like, but he'd had some fantasies about that. He knew very little about him at all except that he lived at what seemed like the other end of the universe and he was gay. Somewhere he'd mentioned being in his early thirties which was just perfect. He also mentioned that he didn't have a boyfriend, but that didn't make a hell of a lot of difference anyway since Matt thought he was some woman named Rose.

Thomas sat down at the computer and tried to write, but was distracted. He checked the clock. It was almost eight o'clock and their chat was at nine. He didn't have time to go out. Maybe later he'd hit the bars. It was Saturday night, after all. Thomas got up and went to his closet. He took out a pair of black leather pants and a white silk shirt. He glanced at himself in the mirror. For a guy who had just turned thirty, he looked pretty damn good. Six foot two, slim and muscular, he put a lot of effort into staying in shape, especially since he spent so much time sitting in front of his computer.

His dark hair was layered back a bit and he'd finally got that shadow thing going on his jaw. Light blue eyes contrasted nicely with the thick chestnut coloured hair. Men told him he was hot. He smiled at his reflection for a moment. "Well Matt, wonder what you would think if you could see Rosie now." He laughed at his little joke and shook his head. What in hell was this obsession he'd developed with Matt Malone anyway? It made no sense. They weren't going to meet. And there wasn't even a possibility that Matt would ever imagine something happening between them because of his stupid masquerade. Oh well. He dumped the clothes on the bed and went back to his computer. He brought up Matt's latest book, Falcon's Fire. He scrolled down to the scene where one of the characters, a former next door neighbour who'd been enamoured with the other guy for what seemed like eternity, finally get it on. And boy, do they get it on! Thomas smiled. He wondered if Matt worked from real life experiences like he did? If he did, wow, Matt Malone would be one hot lover in bed.

Thomas snaked his hand down inside of his jeans and leaned back, reading the words out loud as he lightly stroked his cock.

 

Bertrand's hand moved up over the naked flesh of Samuel's sculptured abs. Samuel lifted his head and met his gaze. He went to say something, but no words were audible. They were completely alone out here now. Both Danny and Keith had gone to the ABC Store on Kalakaua Avenue to pick up more beer.

It was just the two of them alone with the late summer surf as witness. Bertrand reached up with his hand and touched his hair. "I have to kiss you," he said. 

"It isn't right. You're here with Keith and I'm with Danny now."

"I didn't say it was right, Goddamn it," Bertrand growled, curling his fingers around Samuel's hair, "I said I have to." He pulled Samuel forward and captured his mouth with his. At the same time, he fiddled with the zipper on Samuel's jean shorts, managing to take his cock out.

Samuel moaned into Bertrand's mouth as the kiss deepened. Bertrand had Samuel's cock in his hand and was gently caressing it. It was sending shivers up Samuel's spine.

"Lay back," Bertrand coaxed, putting his hand on his chest.

"Bert," he protested weakly, his lips touring his, "we shouldn't. We…"

"You want to, don't you?" Bertrand asked him softly, pressing him down against the wooden deck.  

 Want to? Of course he wanted to.

Bertrand hovered over him, still fondling his cock. Samuel met those blue eyes and any fight he might have mustered left him. "Bertrand," he whispered, "all those years, I dreamt of holding you and now--"

"Shush." His mouth came down on his, hard, demanding, the passion threatening to drown them both as Samuel came in Bertrand's hand.

"Oh no," Samuel groaned. "I'm sorry, I…"

Bert smiled at him, straddling his hips now. "Come with me inside." His dipped his dark head down and lapped one nipple, then the other.

"We can't. They'll be back and--"

"They just left." Bertrand jumped to his feet and reached out his hand. "Come. I know a secret place."

Samuel still resisted. "A secret place." He tried to act casual, but the fire ignited in the pit of his belly, reflected in his eyes.

"I've been saving it for you. I've never taken anybody there. Black Point…the most beautiful place in the world for the most beautiful man I know…come, baby…

 

Thomas was coming all right. Damn that was nice. And what followed that scene was one of the hottest sex scenes he'd ever read. Forbidden, juicy, and--

The phone rang. Thomas groaned as he picked up the receiver. It was Brian, one of his casuals. He'd stopped seeing him awhile back. He got too clingy.

"Going out tonight, Tommy?"

He hated it when people called him Tommy. "Naw," he lied. "I don't think so."

"I'll be at the Stud Bar tonight. Come over later, baby, drop by."

"Yeah maybe." Make a mental note. Be anywhere later but at the Stud Bar. He checked the time on the computer. "Look, I got to go. I have this author thing I have to be at."

"Okay, sexy. I miss you. I miss your cock."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay, bye, Brian." He hung up. He'd slept with that guy once, and it had been a real snooze fest. Brian needed to get a life he thought, typing the name of the chat room into the browser. Get a life? Damn, I need to get a life, instead of sitting in front of the computer masturbating to Matt Malone's sex scenes. Geesh!

When he arrived in the chat room, he greeted many of the regular authors that he'd come to know over the last few years, expecting Matt to pipe up and greet him, but he didn't see his name on the list of those present. The host started talking about some of the authors' latest reviews and Thomas went out of his way to be supportive. It was kind of his hobby, promoting new authors, helping them get their name out there, if he could.

Suddenly, Sandra showed up. Thomas sat back, reading the board.

The big boss is here, the host announced.

Hey people, Sandra wrote. Just wanted to tell you that Matt Malone was supposed to be here to talk about his book tonight, but he's having internet problems.

"Shit," Thomas said, disappointed. The rest of the chat went well, but he'd been looking forward to shooting the breeze with Matt. Everything felt a little flat without him there.

You're really quiet tonight, Rosie, one of the author's pointed out on the chat group.  You sick?

I'm fine. Just reading everyone's stuff, Thomas wrote back.

When the chat ended, he left the room and checked his email. He read some fan mail, updated his website, then went to change his clothes. He needed some new scenery, some goddamn inspiration. Before he left, he checked his email again. His heart sped up a bit when he saw that he had one message. The sender was Matt Malone. Thomas sunk down in his chair and clicked open the message.

 

Hey, Rose,

I wanted to tell you that I was really looking forward to chatting with you tonight at the talk, but my damn internet gave out on me. I'm definitely changing companies because this is the third time this month. I heard it went well. I was wondering if you'd be the special guest at my chat next Saturday? I wanted to spotlight a few authors I admire and of course you're at the top of the list. Please, tell me yes???

Bye, yours, Matt

 

Thomas sighed. "Yours, Matt?" He shook his head. It was a nice thought. But it wasn't going to happen. Matt Malone would never be his. Thomas pressed reply and began to write back.

 

I missed you, too. I hope you work out your internet problem. I'm very flattered that you want me to be your special guest. It would be my pleasure.

Yours, Thomas

 

Thomas read it over and gasped. No, no…not Thomas. He went back and deleted that and wrote, Your friend, Rose. He sent it. Waited. He refreshed the page three times, waited. Then suddenly, another message. Matt had replied.

 

Rose,

what are you doing now? Do you want to meet in that chat room and talk, just the two of us? I know we're not supposed to probably, but what to hell! No one will be in there now. Feel like being naughty?

Matt

 

Oh yeah baby, he felt like being naughty. He laughed, clicked reply. He wrote three words then pressed send. I'll race you. Thomas was waiting in the chat room when Matt popped up.

Hey.

Hey there, sexy.

If you could see me now, you wouldn't say that.

Why not?

I've got on these old jogging pants. What are you wearing?

Thomas laughed out loud. He wasn't about to say he was dressed in leather pants. Oh, ah, not much.

Naked, eh?

LOL. No. Now, Matt. You are gay, aren't you?

Yes, Madame. I'm teasing.

You do that a lot.

I'm a natural it seems. I'm not dragging you away from anything, am I?

I wasn't doing anything special.

How's the writing?

Don't ask.

Come on, you're the great Rose, the writer I most admire.

Yeah. Someone tell that to the blank page on my computer.

It's a dry spell. Everyone gets them.

I need inspiration.

What's your sexual fantasy?

Oh my God. Thomas swallowed. You. You're my God damned sexual fantasy. Finally, he typed, Ah. I don't know.

You must have one.

What's yours?

You don't want to hear it.

Come on, Matt, I write this stuff for a living. I won't be scandalized. You know I don't have a homophobic bone in my body.

I know that.

I want to steal your fantasies for my next book. LOL

Okay. Well I have this fantasy where I see this guy across the room and I just fall in love at first sight.

That's sweet. And after??

Well we talk and I discover that I've known him forever you know, or it seems like it. It's so stupid.

No, it's not. Go on.

He's dark haired, blue eyed, gorgeous body and he has a voice like an angel. He understands me, anticipates my every need. And he makes love like…well…and that's all I'm going to say because the rest is X-rated.

Thomas sighed. Dark hair, blue eyes, he had. His body could be considered…well, he was buff enough, spending at least four hours a week at the gym. As for anticipating his every need, oh baby. He'd sure as hell like to try.

Rose? You're shocked right?

No. Thanks for telling me that.

Use it if you want. LOL. If it helps to break your dry spell.

I'd need more than that.

There was no response for a moment.

Matt?

Rose, I'm still here.

What's the kinkiest thing you've ever done? Don't tell me if you don't want?

LOL. Tell a straight woman my deepest romantic fantasies.

Ha, ha. No really?

Well, once some guy gave me a blow job behind the bar at someone's wedding. That was hot.

OMG.

LOL. It was also pretty scary. Rose, I can't talk to you about this stuff.

What if I were a guy?

If you were a gay man, I'd…forget it.

No, you'd what?

Nothing. We flirt enough with each other as it is.

Is that what we do? It's just teasing.

Rose. It feels like more than teasing. And I don't usually…you know, you're a girl.

But you do that with everyone anyway.

Yes, but it feels different with you.

Does it?

Yes. And you know it. There's no way to explain and I don't really want to anyway.

Why not? Why don't you want to explain it? Maybe he knew. Maybe Matt knew he was a guy. And Sandra be damned. If Matt asked him right now, he was going to tell him the truth.

Because you're a woman with a beautiful soul, Rose. If I'd ever had a sister, I would have wanted her to be like you.

Sister! Yeah gods!

I feel like I can tell you everything.

Thomas groaned as he wrote, What a nice thing to say. He banged his head a few times down on his desk.

I know you're going to be my closest friend on the net. And I'm in awe because you're such a great writer. I never thought I'd be friends with Rose Carter.

Thanks, Matt. So, what happened with your last boyfriend? You never told me. Were you together a long time?

About a year. I hate being single again. Those gay bars are such meat racks.

Yeah. I know what you mean. These guys don't even ask your name. It's come on, let's go, let's fuck.

Rose? I hate to have to tell you this, but I doubt the patrons of a gay bar would proposition you, unless it's a lesbian bar.

Of course not. I know that. I'm just imagining what you're saying, that's all. Whoops! A great looking guy like you must be propositioned all the time.

You don't know what I look like. Hey, send me a picture of you, okay? And I'll send one back.

Thomas froze. A picture. Shit. He could send a picture of his cousin, Carol. No. He'd just say he didn't have any, but damn, he would really like to see what Matt looked like. Better not. When I get a good one done, okay?

Sure. Let me know and I'll send you mine. I chopped my hair off. It used to be longer.

Are you blond?

Kind of. You have dark hair, I bet.

Yes.

I don't know why I'm so attracted to dark haired guys. I guess it's the contrast.

Probably. Anyway about the bars, do you score? I mean, do you bring guys home and stuff?

Sometimes. But usually I just look around and leave. LOL. Pathetic, eh?

No. I do that too…in straight bars. I just don't want to wake up next to some stranger.

Me neither. But sometimes you know, guys have needs.

Girls, too!!! LOL.

Of course. It's just with two guys, it's more evident. LOL

Oh, yeah. I get you.

Well I got to go, hon. I'm starving and I haven't eaten anything. Are you going anywhere tonight?

I don't know. You?

Maybe. I'll fill you in if I meet Mr. Right.

Thomas sighed. It's been nice. What time is your talk?

I'll send you an email.

Okay, sweetie. Bye.

Bye, Rose. Love ya.

I love you, too.

Thomas shut down the computer. Matt had said love ya. He knew it was just a way of saying goodbye. It didn't mean he really loved him.

Later that night he caught up with a few of his friends. They went bar hopping, danced a bit and drank a lot. He ended up coming back to his place with Steve, an old friend from high school, who inspired absolutely nothing in him in terms of desire. But at least he was fun to talk to. He found himself telling Steve about Matt.

"He thinks you're his sister?"

"No. He thinks of me like a sister. He thinks my name is Rose."

"Your nom de plume?"

"Yes."

"Is he hot?"

"I've never seen him, but I can feel him. He feels hot."

Steve thought that was hilarious. "Just tell him you're a guy."

"I can't"

"Why not?"

"My publisher won't let me."

"Tell him not to tell."

"I promised not to say anything."

"If he saw you, he'd come in his pants," Steve grinned.

"Why, Steven," Thomas sniggered, "I didn't know you thought that."

"You were a doll back in high school, now you're a hunk. You're just an elusive hunk."

Thomas narrowed his eyes. "Am I?"

"Tommy," Steven leaned forward, looking like he was ready to pass out any moment, "you give the patrons a hard on, then you snub them and go home alone."

"I'm looking for something different."

"You used to just be looking to get laid and, if I recall, you did, and often. I was damned jealous. Never once did you give me a taste."

"Steve, you're like my brother." After he'd said it, he leaned back and laughed.

"What a horrible thing to say," Steve murmured, lying back on the sofa. "I'm going to pass out."

Thomas laughed, closing his eyes. "You do that. I'll join ya."

You're not a girl, Rose.

No, and I'm not your bloody sister either.

He could see a blond head, a beautiful face. They were walking hand and hand toward a little cabin. "What if someone catches us?"

The other man with him smiled. Damn. He wished he could see his face clearly. "Does it matter? I won't tell anyone."

"Promise?" He took his face between his hands and kissed him deeply. He heard himself moan slightly.

"Only if you fuck me."

"Oh yeah," he breathed. "Yeah. Matt? Matt?"

"What, baby?"

"You can tell me anything you know."

"I know. I've felt that since I first met you. It was chemical I guess. I felt your heat through the computer. I knew you'd be hot. I knew you'd look this good…feel…take off your clothes, Thomas."

Thomas stood there in the middle of this huge room. There was a bed a few feet away. He took off his clothes, his gaze moving to the billowing curtains. He saw his silhouette on the wall, a young man, with beautiful muscles flexing, an obvious erection, waiting for his mouth, his lips. "Thomas?"

"Um." He moved his fingers over taunt flesh, nipples glistening with his saliva, cock straining, slick head brushing his lower lip. He licked the stickiness, dipped the tip of his tongue in the slit to taste him deeper.

Fuck me, take me. Thomas. I need you. Please.

Yes. Ummm….ahhhh….yes.

"Thomas. Thomas?"

His eyes snapped open. "Oh God." He looked up into Steve's bloodshot eyes.

"I got to go. I got the early shift at the coffee shop today," he headed for the door. "I must have fallen asleep here last night. Boy, were we drunk." He said goodbye and was gone.

Thomas moaned. He reached his fingers out across the sofa. There was no one to touch. "Matt." It had seemed so real. Tears came to his eyes. It was too damn real. He cleared his throat, sat up and put his face in his hands. He had to get a grip. He got up, made some coffee and then sat down and tried to write. He gave up after an hour and went onto his Yahoo group. Matt had been on there promoting his upcoming book. Thomas took some time to comment on the excerpt saying it sounded like an interesting read. Right after, Matt replied, thanking him. A few readers started talking back and forth about different books they had read and enjoyed in male-male romance, but Matt stayed silent. Maybe he'd gone. A few minutes later, Matt sent him an instant message.

Hey, Rosie. How's it going?

Tried to write. No luck. You?

I drank too much last night.

LOL. Me, too. Hangover?

No. I don't get those.

Did you get lucky?

Actually, yes.

Thomas stared at the words. Matt had slept with someone last night. Shit. A new boyfriend maybe. He should be happy for him. After all, he had no right to be jealous. Was he cute?

He was hung like a horse. LOL. If I get too graphic, haul me in.

No worries. You know what I write.

LOL. Yeah. Well, he was equipped and ready. I needed to let off some steam.

You were careful.

Of course.

You going to see him again?

He just moved in upstairs so I can't help it. But I don't know if I'm going to make it with him again. We connected in bed, but not out.

Oh. You mean like you do with me?

Yes. Now if you were a guy. I could imagine we'd have some great sex.

Do you?

Do I what?

Imagine us having sex?

Of course not. You're a girl. LOL. If you forgot already, I like cock, remember?

I know. I know. I'm only kidding. So, does this guy want to see you again?

I don't know. Maybe. He said I was a good lay. Wink

You're incorrigible.

You bring it out in me, Rosie. So tell me about your night?

Nothing to report. Came back here with a friend and we fell asleep.

Male friend?

Yeah.

Was he cute?

He's okay. He's like a brother.

Oh, those friends. We love them, but to a point.

Yep.

So, next weekend the talk starts at two.

I'll be there.

Got to go, honey.

Okay. Bye, Matt.

Thomas brought up the file for Matt's book and began to read it again. If he couldn't have him, at least he could listen to his voice. And it was Matt's voice speaking to him in those lines, his thoughts, his experiences and when Bertrand pumped his lust into Samuel, Thomas pumped his own into his hand.

 

"I love you so much, Bertrand," Samuel held him close, his heart beating next to his. "But we can never be together. We are worlds apart. And we're involved with other men."

Bertrand kissed his hair and looked deeply into his eyes. "If we love hard enough, Samuel, anything is possible. I won't give up on you. And I can't stop loving you. I'll always love you."

 

"I'll always love you, Matt," Thomas whispered. "Always."

When the phone rang at eleven o'clock that evening, it woke Thomas out of a dead sleep. He picked it up clumsily. "Yeah?"

"Thomas, it's Sandra."

"Oh, shit, the edits. I'm sorry, Sandra, I've been on the moon lately."

"Honey, never mind that. I just got a call from a major movie network. They want to make a movie out of Last Chance." 

Thomas gripped the phone. "What?"

"You heard me. Honey, you've made it. I want you to come out here and be in on the negotiations. They are waiting for word from you and then everything is a go. Then, you're coming with me to the Exotic Romance Convention. I'll pay everything."

"Sure, you can afford to now. Man, this is not registering."

"It will. And, sweetie, you can come out as a man. I'm going to make a big production out of it, meet the real Rosie Carter. And everyone will see you're a guy and--"

"Ah wait, Sandra, I--"

"I won't take no for an answer. Mum is the word until the conference, okay? As for the movie, you can shout that from the rooftops. I've already posted it to the groups. Call me and tell me when you're coming. I'll meet you at the airport. Hurry. Bye."

Thomas sunk down in his chair. Movie? He went to the computer. Everyone was congratulating him all over the place. His head was spinning. He checked his email. There was a letter from some legal office on behalf of the people offering him a movie contract. He sat staring at it for a long time. When his private messages started going crazy, he turned it off. He called his parents and told them the news. They were excited. Then he called his friends. Finally, at three in the morning he went back to the computer. There was a single message from Matt. He opened it.

 

Rosie,

I'm so very happy for you. Congratulations. You deserve it. Can't wait to talk. I'll understand if you can't make my chat. Oh, and I think it might work out with the neighbour. We had a great talk today. I'll tell you more later.

Matt

 

Thomas's heart sank. He was going to write back that he had a surprise for him, maybe one he'd like and that he…he what? Loved him? No, that was insane. Instead, he wrote--

 

Matt,

Thank you. I will be at your chat as planned.

See you, Rosie

 

"Why don't you tell him now?" Sandra asked as Thomas opened up his laptop, prepared to make his appearance at Matt's chat.

"I can't."

"Why not?" Sandra handed him a cold glass of ice tea.

"He's got a new boyfriend."

"You really like him for real, don't you?"

"Yes. It doesn't make any sense. I've never even seen the guy. How can you fall for someone over the internet?"

"You connected."

"Yeah. And he thinks of me as his sister, of all things." Thomas wrote. Hi, Matt, and everyone. I'm Rosie Carter.

Matt went about introducing him and Sandra settled down beside him.

I'm sitting beside Sandra Wells, publisher of Romance Esquire. She says hello.

Matt wrote that Thomas had a movie offer from his latest book and asked Thomas to talk about that. Thomas wrote a few of the most important things. People asked questions and he answered.

"Sandra, is Matt going to be at the convention?" Thomas asked, waiting for more questions to come up.

"I don't know. He hasn't said. He works in an office doing administrative work and he told me last time I spoke to him that he wasn't sure he could get the time off. Sorry."

Thomas shrugged. "Does he know I'm…Rosie is going?"

"I don't know. Has he asked you?"

"He mentioned it a few times a long time ago, but just in passing. At the time, I said no because you didn't want me to blow my cover."

She nodded.

Finally, the talk began to wind down. Matt came up on his instant messaging.

Thanks, sweetie.

My pleasure, handsome. So, are you going to the conference?

I doubt it. The way it looks now, no. But if things change, maybe. It will be a last minute thing. Hey, I got a lot of new people on my group.

Good.

Are you going?

Yes.

Damn. I'd love to see you, Rosie, give you a big hug.

That's not all I'd like to give you. Yeah, same here.

Say hi to Sandra.

Will do.

"Tell him his last book is doing well," Sandra said.

Sandra says your book is doing well.

Ya hoo. That's good news.

How's the boyfriend?

Will you walk me down the aisle?

Thomas winced. Moving a little fast, aren't we? You've only fucked him what…once…twice? He must be damn good!

Rose? I'm joking. You sound miffed.

Not. No worries. Got to go.

Thomas closed down his private message system.

"Thomas, are you all right?" Sandra asked.

Thomas slammed down the laptop cover hard enough to break it. "I'm fine. Damn it." He shook his head.

"What?"

"I didn't stand a chance. I'm here and that fucking neighbour is right upstairs and not someone he thinks is his God damned sister. I'm going for a walk."

"Maybe you'll see him at the conference and--"

"It's too late. And besides, he's not coming," Thomas said, heading for the door. "I need to get my head examined. It makes no sense to be jealous over Matt Malone. He's a fantasy. That's all. Just a fantasy.

 

Later that night, Thomas laid in Sandra's recreation room in the basement with his e-reader. He'd read Matt's book three times now, but somehow it brought him peace to read it again. He vowed that this was the last time. He needed to read the part where Bertrand was leaving with his boyfriend. Samuel was hurting bad, watching him with another guy, knowing he could never have him, never hold him again.

 

I wish we'd never touched, never connected like that. He could still feel his hands on his flesh, taste his kiss in his mouth. Now someone else would hold him in his arms.

 

Tears ran down Thomas's face. It was better if he didn't go out of his way to connect with Matt anymore. He wiped at his cheeks, put down the e-reader. He should be walking on air right about now, but he wasn't. He closed his eyes and imagined that Matt was here with him, sharing this. He turned on the pillow and looked into his eyes. "I need you," Thomas said aloud, "a lover, a friend for the rest of my life. I feel so close to you."

No one answered. Matt was far away, probably lying next to some other guy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Matt Malone, real name Matthew Lucas, stared at the computer screen. Why was Rose so mad? She was mad. He knew it. He sat back for a moment. He was happy she had a movie deal, but he was also absurdly happy that she was still coming to his chat. Why did it matter so much? Really, this was the biggest deal of her life, any author's life, but she had made a point of saying she would still be there. For him. He found himself grinning like a geek, swivelling in his Hawaii Chair. Boy, had this been a cool discovery.

He allowed his body to hula back and forth as the chair did wonders for his waist and all-but-gone love handles and he wondered about Rose and why his thoughts always went to her.

His friends accused him of being bisexual. They'd teased him when he first mentioned his complicated feelings for Rose.

"It's like this, Matthew. You're in a car on the freeway. You need to pick a lane," his brother Ryan had joked. It was easy for Ryan to brush off Matt's romantic foibles. Ryan was also gay, but he'd been in a committed, loving relationship for three years with his partner Cole. It seemed to give him an odd veneer of impatience with Matt.

"I don't think it's so strange," Cole had said. Cole was hot, had a million dollar a year job, cooked, cleaned and raised their year old daughter Daphne with infinite grace. Cole often took Matt's side in arguments these days.

"Thank you," Matt had said.

"Maybe Rose is a guy," Cole suggested.

"Get real," Ryan responded.

Cole shrugged. "Why not? I mean, guys have been pretending to be women since Ancient Greece…look at Shakespeare. All those parts were played by men. And men were the ones who first started writing all those romance novels. I bet underneath her powdered, perfumed wig, Barbara Cartland was a fussy, cardigan-wearing old queen named Bruce."

Even Matt had laughed at that one. Ryan and Cole were dealing with surrogate problems, trying to artificially inseminate the woman who'd given birth to Daphne and now seemed unable to conceive again. It was not only costing them a fortune, but her recent miscarriage continued to grieve them. Matt felt stupid and selfish discussing his fantasy romance with a woman on the other end of the world when they were dealing with a real life problem.

Matt sat, staring at, but not seeing his Yahoo home page on the computer, the headline about gay phobia in Hollywood not even crossing his radar.

For one absurd moment, he wished he could call Rose and talk about things. Since his two books had become successful, Matt was surprised to find his private world diminishing. His fellow author friends either envied his success or felt put off by what they labelled as the pornographic content. He'd been hurt and shocked when one close friend called his books dirty behind his back. Considering how long it had taken him to finally get published, he thought at least they could be happy for him.

Did Rose suffer the same problems?

"What, it's okay for me to struggle and get endless rejection letters, but the second I get a book deal, I'm socially unacceptable?" he'd often gripe to Ryan.

"You know who your friends are," Ryan would respond. "Us."

Yeah, but in his corner pocket, somewhere out in the universe, Matt also had Rose Carter. He wished she was a man. He'd fly to her, make her forget all about her speed dating disasters, the lousy blind dates. The ugly guys pretending to be cute. Matt knew he was good looking, even if his confidence wasn't always there.

When he'd sent copies of his first book to his closest friends, most never even opened a single page, saying, I'm not into that sort of book.

How did they know? The world of hot male-male sex had been new to him until he read Rose's books. He'd been turned on and educated by her fine, evocative prose and sometimes, just sometimes, he could swear she was a man because she understood them. Yet, in all their chats online she more than hinted at her crappy luck with men.

The only one of course who'd read Falcon's Heart was Cole who bought and paid for the book, downloading it onto his Kindle.

Matt remembered the night. They'd all had dinner at Ryan and Cole's house. Homo Central Matt's dad always called it, yet his dad was the first one to squawk if he ever missed out on a dinner invitation. Cole had outdone himself with a complete Hawaiian meal of sashimi poke, ginger crusted ahi steaks and home made guava shave ice for dessert since Matt's book had been set in the islands. It had touched Matt deeply and sometimes he thought Ryan didn't truly appreciate how lucky he was to have a man like Cole.

Everybody had toasted his publishing success and Cole had predicted it would be a best seller. "I'm going to buy your book as soon as soon as it's available online." Matt was surprised, but shouldn't have been that Cole kept checking his publisher's website and did indeed, buy the book.

"I was so turned on, I sat up in bed reading it until four in the morning, then I woke up Ryan and fucked him," Cole told him the next day. "I hope there's going to be a sequel."

There was a sequel, Falcon's Fire, which was out and according to Rose, selling very well. He had others in the works, except his brain refused to cooperate. One time he found himself typing Rose Rose Rose Rose and he looked around furtively before deleting each entry. What was wrong with him? He was a total homo. He adored men. But like his dear friend Rose, Matt had colossal lapses in taste when it came to men.

He put a call through to his friend Zara, who had just submitted her first e-book to his publisher and was already freaking out, calling him every hour asking him how long it had taken for Sandy to approve his submission and send him contracts. He'd put off calling Zara all day because he couldn't bear the nonsense. She was already making far fetched plans to market her own line of candy, Zara Baras if you please, before she'd even made a dime.

"Hi." Zara sounded breathless. "I'm doing a workout tape I found at the Ninety Nine Cent Store. It's in Spanish and the woman looks sort of grotesque, but she has a flat tummy and I need one if I am going to go on a book tour. I'll call you back. Biyeee!"

A book tour? Oh man, was she in for a rude awakening. Maybe she hadn't believed him when he talked about the endless round of promos all online. If he wasn't posting excerpts to internet chats, he was doing live chats in different romance writing rooms. He could be there naked or in his pyjamas…nobody ever saw him and that was the point.

Rose did not want to exchange photos. Why? Was she afraid he'd turn into some sort of love sick loon? Was she afraid he'd find fault with her?

 Matt stood and stretched. He was due at Ryan's in half an hour for dinner and the prospect was grim. His parents were driving down from the Channel Islands and yes, he always loved seeing them, but by the time he got to Ryan's, they would have heard all about Rose Carter and would be full of questions. His parents were very accepting of having two gay sons and one straight son who was unfortunately in and out of rehab. Right now he was in with a serious addiction to crack. His parents cherished Daphne and often took her for weekends, but now with no second baby in sight, Ryan and Cole were less and less inclined to let Daphne go for long periods of time.

 Running a toothbrush across his teeth, Matt wondered, how did Rose feel about kids? Did she want them? Why did he care? He frowned, closing the sliding doors on his balcony perched precariously over the Hollywood Hills. He didn't care what the broker said, one little earthquake and he'd be hurling into one of the hundreds of swimming pools lying beneath his mountain top property.

He probably shouldn't have bought the house, but he hadn't been able to resist. His first of three severance checks from the studio had been a whopper and his accountant had advised buying property. There were some perks to being a dumped movie executive. He had wanted to live in the Hollywood Hills all his life and on a good, clear day he could see across the canyon to Ryan and Cole's sage green house. Even with the doors closed, he could smell the Eucalyptus from outside. He would have kept the doors open except that his house was still listed on a couple of Star Maps and he'd come home more than once to find strange chicks using his Jacuzzi. His house was once owned by Keanu Reeves.

What on earth possessed him to lie to Rose, telling her he had a hot new lover living upstairs? There was no upstairs. He hated telling her the truth that he thought about her…a woman…and frequently read her hysterical blogs just to get his Rose Fix. Rose always made him feel better.  

The phone rang. Expecting Zara to alert him to new and spectacular changes to what she called her girlish bod, he was unpleasantly surprised to find it was Wayne, his ex lover who'd made an art out of turning a very good relationship into a series of far-spaced bootie calls.

"Hey, babe. Wanna hook up?"

Matt seethed with anger. Last time Wayne had called and demanded that he get naked and wait in bed for him. Matt had waited and waited and Wayne had never showed.

When Matt didn't respond, Wayne's voice turned silky. "Don't be mad. You know I play bigger head trips with myself than I ever did with you."

"Don't be too sure about that," Matt snapped, picking up the box from Janie and Jack containing the little dress he'd seen in the store window and felt was perfect for baby Daphne. He opened the door and there stood Wayne on the stoop, the two men staring at one another.

"Surprise." Wayne snapped his cell phone shut and reached over, running his long fingers across Matt's crotch, seeking and finding a hard, happy cock. He pushed Matt back inside the house and kicked the door shut.

The two men's mouths met in an open-mouthed kiss that used to take their breath away. Matt was annoyed to find it still did. How could he so badly want to fuck someone who hurt him in such an effortless way? Would Samuel allow Bertrand to use and abuse him? They're book characters! Fiction! his brain screamed.

Matt sucked in a breath as Wayne unzipped his fly and knelt before him, a posture he didn't often adopt. He must really need to get laid, he thought. Wayne took Matt's huge cock into his mouth, looking up at him. Blond, brown eyed and very muscular, Wayne was Louisiana born and cheerfully called himself white trash.

"God, I've missed this…" His mouth kept up a maddening, sucking pace that had Matt furious and frantic for more, all at the same time. He tried to get Wayne to his feet so he could get to his pants.

"Uh-uh," Wayne shook his head, coming off Matt's cock for a moment. Matt ignored him, pushing himself away, throwing Wayne back against the plush white carpet and undoing the button fly on his Levis. Wayne had the most incredible cock Matt had ever seen. Thick, long and uncut, it had been his private joy for months until Wayne had pulled back, working late, finding excuses not to see him, coming back when he wanted some rocking head.

Wayne's cock lengthened and hardened against Matt's lips and with a little cry, Wayne crawled underneath Matt's long, lean body, to get his mouth back on the cock he so obviously craved. The two men worked on each other with the familiarity of lovers long separated. Matt teased the foreskin of Wayne's cock with his lips and tongue, Wayne bucked underneath him. Wayne, who was so unlike dark haired, blue eyed Matt…Wayne who grew up hunting squirrels and eating them.

What do squirrels taste like? he asked Wayne once.

He expected to hear, like stringy chicken instead he got, they taste like squirrels, Matthew.

Wayne slipped a finger into Matt's ass.

"Oh, man…" Matt moaned around Wayne's cock as Wayne worked another finger into him. In the good days, the old days, the two men spent hours in the sack, pleasuring one another. It had all been cooked down, boiled to a six minute mutual face fuck that ended with both of them coming hard.

"That's it, baby…" Wayne stroked Matt's belly as he unleashed his unspent fire into his former boyfriend, his own orgasm being coaxed to exquisite release. The tender moment passed and Matt had the bizarre feeling he'd just cheated on Rose, a toxic sensation that robbed him a little of his usual erotic high.

He pushed himself off Wayne's face.

"What's the matter?" Wayne asked as Matt sat back against his expensive, Danish Modern sofa strategically placed to catch the sun rising and setting across the San Gabriel Mountains.

Matt caught his breath, his pulse slowing finally. "Nothing." He stood up and was surprised to find he now wanted to take a shower. "You need to leave."

Wayne grinned at him. "Come on, man, you can't tell me that wasn't hot."

"Yeah…hot." He stuffed himself back into his jeans, hoisting up the zip. He was itching to get Wayne out of his home. He'd change his cell phone number if he had to. He glanced at the door, anxious to be away from him, to be anywhere, away from this…this…squirrel killer.

"What's going on?"

"I'm late for dinner."

"You got somebody else?" Wayne was buttoning up his fly and Matt was pleased to see a wet spot forming on Wayne's immaculate, vintage jeans.

Matt almost said no, but he found himself unable to say it. He didn't want to say it. Out there, somewhere, Rose thought about him. She was as confused about him as he was about her. He was certain of it.

"Who the hell is he?"

Ha! Wayne was jealous.

"Nobody you know." Nobody I know either.

Wayne was frowning, staring at him. "I come past here all the time and I never see another car in the driveway." The words were out before he could stop them, judging by the way he ran his hand over his face now.

"Really. You come by here all the time?" Cripes, the guy couldn't commit to a date but he's stalking me? He doesn't live anywhere close. Why would he be driving along Mulholland?

Wayne ignored the question. "Who is he?"

"Another author…somebody I met."

"Oh, does he write porn, too?" Wayne's lip curled into a sneer.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Look, I really have to go."

"You know something, Matt? It could have been good between us, if you could just learn to relax and…"

"And what, Wayne?" Could I get arrested for smacking a squirrel killer in the mouth?

"If you gave up on the stupid idea of happy endings, of true love."

Matt gave him a small, tight smile. "That's one of the many small differences between us, Wayne. I understand one thing about this world. That only love is real."

 

* * * *

 

He was a little spooked that Wayne followed his trusty powder blue Mustang very close all the way along Mulholland until he veered off down Outpost Drive. He didn't signal so Wayne would have to backtrack. Sure enough. Matt drove between two houses and waited and Wayne's ridiculous yellow Hummer sailed down the tiny canyon road at a fast clip and a few seconds later, Matt roared out of hiding, back up to Mulholland and drove off in the opposite direction.

Twenty minutes later, he rang the front doorbell of Ryan and Cole's beautiful Spanish house high up on Micheltorena. He heard his mother cooing as she came to greet him.

"Come on, Daphne, let's go say hi to Uncle Matt!"

The door opened and Matt's heart fell out of his chest onto the hand-painted titles on the front doorstep. Little Daphne's gummy smile always managed to seduce him anew.

"Ah!" she pointed and reached for her uncle's arms. Matt's mother took the Janie and Jack box from him.

"Spoiling her again, Matty?" His mother Elise, a lovely Irish woman of the red hair and blue eyed variety had a small body and a massive bosom.

"It's my job, mom. Say, I like your necklace." And he did. It was a work of art with jade and amber pieces interspersed with red Chinese Mah Jong pieces.

She beamed. "Cole made it for me."

"Of course he did. Is there anything that man can't do?"

From the kitchen, Cole laughed and, when Matt walked in, he was not surprised to see an amazing Italian gourmet meal in full swing. Cole kissed his cheek and eyed the Janie and Jack box.

"Oh, Daphne…aren't you the lucky girl?" Cole was a spectacular looking man with a body that was his fortune. An underwear model for Calvin Kline, it was Cole's body usually grafted to celebrity heads in ads and magazine layouts. The thing about Cole however was that he was totally without any sense of ego. He wanted more than anything to be a husband and father and friend. There was something Buddha-like about Cole that drew people to him, even at the supermarket.

Cole smiled at Matt in a sympathetic way as his mother-in-law reached for her granddaughter, taking her to the sofa to help her rip open her gift.

"How are you?" Cole hugged him. "You seem…wait a second…did you get laid?"

"Wayne stopped by."

"He actually showed up this time?"

"Believe it or not."

"Should I call off the hit men?"

"Nah…don't be too hasty, he's still an ass." Matt watched Cole crumbling a handful of chopped herbs over a large platter of pasta covered in salmon and fish roe. Something was wrong. He could feel it.

"Everything okay?" he asked Cole.

Cole's hand hovered for one tiny second. Daphne waddled into the kitchen wearing her new dress, looking thrilled with herself. Thirteen months old and the kid was already a fashionista.

"Oh, darling, you look adorable." Cole bent and kissed her chubby little face. "Go outside and show daddy how pretty you look."

The baby toddled off again.

Cole straightened. "So, how's the romance with Rose?"

"She sold her book to a movie producer."

"Good. You can give her plenty of advice."

"Yeah…I hadn't thought about that. Listen, Cole…there's a romance book convention and she's going to be there."

Cole grabbed a handful of fresh oregano and started chopping it. "Good, you should meet her. Go and face her. Where is it?"

"Honolulu."

Cole stopped chopping. "The scene of the crime," he whispered.

"What?"

"Well, that's where your books are set. I can see the two of you meeting out at Black Point and having rollicking sex out there on those lava rocks."

"Yeah, me and a chick."

"If she's even a chick. I think she's passing."

"God, I wish that were true."

Cole looked at him. "You should take me and Daphne with you to Honolulu. Kids are perfect ice breakers."

"Take you and Daphne? Are you kidding?" What if Rose thinks we're a couple?

Cole's eyes brightened with tears.

"What's going on?" Matt stopped inspecting the opened bottles of red wine and put his hand on Cole's shoulder.

"Your brother just fucked his chiropractor. That's what's going on."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Matt felt anger rupturing his system, flooding his senses so strongly he could feel the bile rising in his throat. "I don't believe it." Cole looked so unhappy he knew it was true, even if it made no sense. If Ryan fucked up the best thing that had ever happened to him…

"Aw shit, you told him, didn't you?"

Matt turned and found his fraternal twin glaring at Cole.  "Yeah, he told me and you know what, I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Oh relax, you goddamned hot head." Ryan pushed Matt away from him. "It wasn't even any good."

Cole and Matt exchanged incredulous glances.

"Oh, it wasn't any good? So what…that excuses crappy behavior?" When Ryan didn't respond, Matt exploded. "You really are a moron." Afraid he would take his now volcanic anger out on his cheating brother, he reached for a wine glass. He stopped, his hand poised at the wine rack above his head. "Wait a second…your chiropractor? That middle aged Italian lunatic with a beer gut?"

"No. His new partner. Christian." Ryan said his name with a reverence that was just plain revolting.

Matt knew that Ryan was lying when he said the sex wasn't any good. He saw the dark looks traded between Ryan and Cole.

"He's staying with us," Cole muttered. "I took him in because he had no place else to go. I've been…playing host to that…that man…and this morning, I caught them in bed together."

Matt slumped on one of the kitchen stools. He couldn't believe a word of what he was hearing. "Does mom know?"

"Of course not." Ryan glanced outside. "Look, I keep telling him it was nothing, it was an accident."

"An accident?" Matt thumped the fake French butcher's block. "An accident is something you have when one car bumps another, Ryan. How do you accidentally fuck another man? What, you tripped on a rug and found your cock sliding into his ass?"

Cole pressed his fingers to his eyes and started to sob.

Ryan had the grace to look distressed, but it was Matt who went over and put his arms around Cole. Ryan never had been good at the mushy stuff. Matt knew his brother loved Matt, but Ryan was not one of those guys who could be grateful for the good things he had. Ryan always wanted more. The next big project, the next million dollar deal, the next hot guy.

Cole was shattered and Matt continued to hug him, leading him off to the bedroom he shared with Ryan. It was perfect, like everything else in Ryan and Cole's life. It was a dream bedroom for a nightmare chapter in an otherwise solid relationship.

Matt led Cole to the bed, shutting the door behind him.

"I'm sorry." Cole swiped at his tears. "You're the only one I can talk to."

"Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you tell me as soon as it happened?"

Cole's hand trembled as he wiped his nose. "He begged me not to call you."

Matt went to the bathroom, but couldn't find tissues. He supposed Cole wouldn't find tissues an elegant accoutrement to their fine living. He grabbed some toilet paper and Cole blew his nose.

"I went mad. I went crazy. I threw things. I broke things. I wanted to die."

Matt sat beside Cole, putting his arm around him again. Cole's tears still flowed and he wondered how on earth this lovely, sensitive man had stemmed the emotional tide all day. "Where is that rotten little prick now?" Matt asked.

"In his room, down the hall. I want him out of here, but Ryan insists he should stay."

"What?" Matt found an outlet at last for his mountain of rage. "I'm getting him out of here. You are gonna wash your face and after dinner, you, Ryan and I are going to have a little chat."

"You're going to throw him out?"

"Watch me."

Cole actually laughed.

Matt marched down the hall and threw open the guest bedroom door. He found a young, Nordic looking guy in tighty whities posing in front of the bedroom mirror like he was Iron man or something.

The guy was too startled to drop his pose.

"You have got to be kidding me." Matt grinned.

Christian smiled. He was good looking in a West Hollywood twink kinda way. "You must be Matthew."

"Asshole, I am your worst fucking nightmare. Get out of this house right now and don't ever call my brother again. If I find out you've been meddling with their relationship again, I will dismember you. I'll start off with your teeny weenie and piece by fucking piece I'll feed you to that fucking alligator in the goddamned Echo Park River. You got that? You have exactly three minutes."

Christian gave him an odd look. "Where's Ryan?"

"Ryan is no longer any of your business, my friend. And if you don't want to be reported to the American Medical Association, I suggest you start packing. You now have two minutes and thirty five seconds."

Christian tried staring him down for a moment, but Matthew had his cell phone out.  "I am going to call nine one one in a minute and a half and tell them a half naked lunatic with a party frank in his underpants got into our house. You want to spend the night in the big house with your teeny weenie, that's on you."

"Stop calling it a teeny weenie."

"Teeny weenie."

"Geez…Ryan said I could stay."

"Ryan is an asshole who doesn't have a say in this. Unless you want me to chuck your stuff out the window, start packing!" Man, it felt good to scream those last two words. Matt found himself mentally putting all of this into the third book of adventures of Bertrand and Samuel. Would I dare introduce an interloper? My readers would go berserk…

"What's going on?" Matt's father, Baxter Lucas, one time Irish flyweight boxing champion who had to give up the sport thanks to two detached retinas, turned up at the door. Baxter still had the thug look to him courtesy of a flattened nose, but he was a pussycat. It was his wife Elise who was the ball tearing tiger.

Christian was throwing things into a couple of pathetic Trader Joe paper bags.

Matt smiled. "Cole and Ryan's house guest is leaving. How are you, dad?"

Christian threw the men a nervous glance as he checked under the bed and found a used condom.

"What the…"

Christian blew past them.

"Key," Matt yelled and Christian took it off his beer keg key ring and threw it at him.

Baxter eyed the terrified twink now scurrying down the stairs. "He doesn't seem your type."

"What, are you high? It wasn't me."

Baxter stared at him. "Ryan dipped his wick in…that?"

Matt nodded.

"Does your mother know? What am I saying, of course she doesn't know. Ryan's head is still on his shoulders. Maybe I should hide all the kitchen knives, just to be safe. Say, what's all this about you being in love with some fat Canadian chick?"

"Who said she was fat?"

"Ryan."

"That lying little prick."

Baxter laughed. "You mean you're straight after all? I don't care if she's fat, son. I'll get her in gym, get the weight right off her…"

Matt stared at his father. "No, I am not straight and I don't think she's fat. Ryan's a bastard."

"No, he's not. I assure you your mother and I were well married when she found out she was pregnant. We thought it was a bad curry at first." Baxter laughed and laughed, unaware his son teetered on the verge of pushing his father down the stairs.

"Excuse me, dad." Matt went searching for Cole and found him in the kitchen once again, Mr. Serene, preparing to feed the troops. Apart from slightly swollen eyes, he looked fine. He had made his usual fantastic all-out effort and Ryan was playing the Hugh Grant role to perfection. Yeah, he was polishing his act as the attentive spouse, topping his partner's wine glass and gazing lovingly into his eyes, but Matt was not fooled. This ship was about to sink.

Dinner was excruciating. Thank God for Elise. She kept the monologue flowing and Ryan kept the wine poured at an insane pace, but Baxter was now feeling very bad for Cole who barely kept things together and excused himself to put the baby to bed.

"I'll come with you." Ryan jumped up, but Baxter put his deceptively strong hand on his son's arm. "Sit down before I introduce you to a left-right combination."

Baxter only spoke like this to carjackers, teenage taggers and right wing politicians who had the nerve to canvass his house. Ryan was so surprised he sat back down and, twenty minutes later, Cole came running out of the house.

"Okay, I just put the coffee on and--"

"What about dessert?" Ryan asked.

Cole went mad. "Dessert? You want dessert? I'll give you dessert! I'm leaving you."

"What?" Elise and Ryan yelled.

"You heard. I'm taking the baby and I'm going over to Matt's for a couple of days."

"What?" Elise said again.

"Don't do that," Ryan warned. "You know I can't be alone. I'll go mad. If Christian calls, I won't be responsible for my actions."

"You fucked him in my house!"

Elise stared at Ryan. "Who did you--"

"His chiropractor," Baxter supplied.

"The fat Italian?"

"No. The skinny twink." Cole picked up the Portmeirion pasta platter and threw it against the newly finished garden wall with the hanging baskets of fuchsia.

"That was your favorite," Ryan gasped.

"Fuck you! I've given you everything, Ryan. I cannot suck your cock or fuck you anymore than I do. I'm going to Matty's and I think you should know…he's invited me and the baby to go to Honolulu with him when he goes to meet his girlfriend."

No, I didn't! 

Matt and Ryan stared at each other. Their parents stared at them.

"What's going on?" Elise asked.

"Nothing." Ryan stomped off to the garage and they all heard his car starting.

Cole stomped off to the house and Matt sat down, shaking a little. Could this be really happening?

Elise kept looking at him and Baxter. "What's going on? Why won't anyone tell me?"

Cole was back downstairs with the sleepy baby in his arms.

"I'm ready, but I'm gonna need some help." Tears kept falling down his face, but Cole shrugged off any displays of affection as he barreled outside with bags and bottles, the baby slung on his hip. "Bring her high chair and her swing, will you, Matty?"

"You're leaving? I mean really leaving?" Elise was stunned.

"Yes, Elise, I'm really leaving."

"But he's gone, Christian is gone." Matt was desperate. He didn't want company. He wanted to write. To be alone with his thoughts and his dreams…with Rose. He did not want to come between Ryan and Cole.

"You can come home with us." Elise was equally desperate. "Come home with us, Coley. We'd love to have you stay with us."

"No, thanks, Elise. You ready, Matt?"

He helped Cole pack up his SUV and tucked the baby into her carrier. How in the world had it all come to this? Cole followed him across the eastern canyons, a pair of raggedy coyote crossing in front of them, one of them holding a screaming cat in its jaws. Matt hit the brights, hoping it would disorient the coyotes and make them drop their prey, but the animals' eyes were red in the glare of his headlights. They were hardened predators and he felt devastation as they leapt over the side of the canyon. The cat's pitiful wails trailed off and Matt pitied the poor, frightened creature and whoever had loved and lost it.

At his house, Cole parked behind him, tears streaking down his cheeks as he unloaded his baby girl and all their stuff. Cole was a seasoned traveler with a portable cot latched in the back as well.

Matt unlocked the door. "Welcome to the Inn of the Sixth Happiness."

Cole managed a weak smile. "You've done a fantastic job. Say, that painting over the fireplace …that is hot."

"That's Madame Pele, Goddess of the Volcanoes."

"Is that a Jim Warren painting?"

Matt glanced at him appreciatively. "The original."

"Impressive. Okay monkey chunks, where will we cause you the least amount of disturbance?"

At your house. "Take my room. I'll sleep in the guest room."

"Don't be ridiculous. We'll take the guest room."

Matt helped them upstairs to where the loft held two rooms and one bathroom between them. He never had company so the guest bedroom had only a bed, closet and nightstand. The two men fit the cot snuggly at the foot of the bed and Matt brought them sheets and towels.

"You go do your work. I know you're anxious. Let me and Daph get settled, okay?"

Matt knew Cole meant it and he felt relieved that his brother-in-law didn't want to sit around yakking about his shitty spouse. He went downstairs and the house was strangely quiet, despite the two new additions. It was even more odd that as he sat at his computer, frantic to see if Rose had emailed him, he didn't mind the company. Despite the circumstances, he enjoyed having Cole and the baby here. Hi lover, she had written.

Lover! Man, it made his cock hard just reading that word.

 

I feel kinda sad tonight. I don't know why. I'm not normally like this, but remember the other day when you told me your favorite movie was Pillow Talk? I can see why. I just rented it and watched it and for two whole hours, the world was a beautiful, funny place again.

 

Her words broke his heart. His fingers touched the screen, as if he could touch her face and let her know he understood.

 

Rock and Doris…they sort of remind me of us, don't you think? We can be like them, best friends who like each other and are maybe attracted to each other, except, well you know…I think love should be like Rock and Doris's movies. You know these people are hot for one another, but they have eyes only for each other.

 

"Amen," Matt said aloud.

 

What's that wonderful line Woody Allen wrote in Manhattan? That people should mate for life like pigeons and Catholics… well, hon, don't mind me. Maybe I need to watch the movie again…LOL, love ya, Rose.

 

 

Matt heard a sound and turned to find Cole and his niece grinning at him.

"You got her to watch Pillow Talk? Dude, she's our people! We're going to bed." Cole was a lot calmer now and he held Daphne close to Matt's face so he could kiss her.

"You okay?" an ineffectual question, but Matt cared about Cole.

Cole sighed. "Matt, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"You ever thought about how much easier our lives would have been if you and I had fallen for each other?"

"No," he lied.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

Rose had sent him a second email. It kept running through his brain. How are you, lover?

Lover! Oh, he had to get over it. They were not lovers. They hadn't even met. He kept reading.

 

I've been thinking about you. I really enjoyed talking to you earlier…You're probably not even reading this. Too busy with the guy upstairs…LOL…I hope your new man is treating you right.

Hugs, Rose

 

It put the biggest smile ever on Matt's face. Her words turned him on more than Wayne slurping on his cock. He immediately opened up the document file for Falcon's Lament, the third book in his series. He was too jazzed to write back to Rose immediately. He zeroed in on the scene that had caused him problems, got him blocked. He never got writer's block…his gaze went to the photos on the wall in front of him. Photos he'd taken of Black Point, the mysterious, rocky bluff in Oahu nestled between the magnificent Diamond Head crater and the madness of Waikiki.

His fingers flew across the keyboard.

 

Bertrand held Samuel to him. It hadn't been hard to get away from their partners. They'd both come up with separate, entirely different excuses for leaving the beach house. Samuel did not resist him, in fact, his cock hardened as Bertrand's kiss deepened and their tongues met in a wild moment they'd been craving for days.

"I gotta taste you again," Bertrand whispered.

Samuel stroked his cheek. "Right here?"

Bertrand's mouth was on his throat now, licking at the hollow, licking down to the breastbone. Samuel's shorts were half way down his thighs and Bertrand lifted off his own shirt, kneeling down, patting it against the rocks. Samuel stepped out of his shorts, allowing Bertrand to ease his body down to the craggy lava rocks. The sea spat cold foam at them, a startling contrast to the heat between the two men. Bertrand paused to give Samuel's cock head a sweet little kiss.

"Lie down for me, baby."

And Samuel obeyed, his legs opening up to the man who'd once betrayed him. Bertrand's mouth went straight to his balls, ignoring his cock…oh, he knew how to torture him. That hot, sucking mouth moved down to his ass and Bertrand's tongue sent a long, long lick across his ass.

"Oh…" Samuel's ass shot up off the hot rocks. Bertrand kept at it, licking, licking, in time to the rocking surf. Samuel's feet flayed as his old lover became his new lover again, taking what had been denied him…and then, relief. Bertrand took his cock in his mouth and Samuel cried out. A lone, red winged bird soared over his head taking pieces of Samuel with him as the man on the lava rocks came, a magnificent offering to the whispering gods of the sea, his ass grasping for Bertrand's two fingers stroking him, urging him to…

 

 "What do you have against bedrooms?"

Matt jumped. He wasn't used to having an audience, especially when he was in the middle of a hot scene. Cole was perched on the arm of his chair, a cup of coffee in his hands.

"Hot scene, though." Cole hand him the cup. "I thought you might like this."

"I love it, thanks." Matt wiped the sweat from his brow. He was, he always said, a method writer. He put himself in his characters' minds, envisioned every last sexual act.

"So, what do you have against two men fucking in a bed?"

Matt sipped the coffee which tasted better than anything he ever made himself and set the cup beside the computer.

"Nothing at all. I just think…well, geez, now that I do think about it, the bed is always a last resort for my books."

Cole nodded. "Where do you get your inspiration? I mean, you know, apart from drive-bys with Wayne, it hasn't been um…productive in the swinging willy department, has it?"

"I watch a lot of gay porn."

"Really? You have any here?"

Matt laughed. "Of course I do."

"I've never watched gay porn in my life."

"Never?"

"No…when I was a teenager, I watched some straight porn I found under my dad's bed." He sipped his own coffee." You can imagine it didn't do much for me…although the chick in it was giving the guy some pretty decent head. I give excellent head, I'm sure as a result…" His voice trailed away. "Maybe that's where I got my obsession with…knob polishing."

Matt laughed.

"And Ryan doesn't believe in watching porn. He says it's like cheating." Cole's face clouded then.

"Well, have at it. I have a very tasty collection and if my niece is asleep…"

"She's asleep." Cole pointed to a digital baby monitor on the coffee table. "I love her so much, Matt."

"I know you do." It couldn't help that Daphne looked exactly like Ryan. A constant mini reminder. "I tell you what, poke through the stash and pick out something fun."

"I wouldn't be bothering you?"

"Honey, you can do anything you want except talk to me when I'm writing. I won't even notice and some man on man moaning will only get the creative juices going bonkers."

 Cole ran to the armoire and threw open the doors. "Wow. Look at the eye candy! Where do I start?"

Matt got up from his desk. "My honest opinion?" He rifled the carefully ordered collection of DVDs lined up by studio name and his favorite models. "I am sort of in lust with Erik Rhodes right now, but this one is a hot favorite. Spanish Uprising. I think you'll like it."

Cole turned the box cover over, reading aloud. "A tale of magic and manmeat. A fiesta of foreskin."

Matt laughed. "Tons of foreskin, actually. They're almost all uncut, hung, hung hung European men."

Cole turned the box back again, tapping the picture on the front. "This guy is…wow, he's something else."

"My future ex husband. He is the inspiration for all my books."

Cole grinned. "He is? That big dick of his would inspire anybody. And those lips…he's gorgeous."

"Yeah and guess what, all the guys are hot, it's beautifully lit, the locations are gorgeous and there's an actual story to it."

"But is there hot fucking in it?"

"The hottest I've ever seen."

"Quick. Lemme have the remote."

Matt settled Cole on the sofa, not worried about writing porn as his brother-in-law started watching his first gay porn. Although, it was so weird…would Rock and Doris do this? He thought about sending Rose an email. Heck…he'd do it. She'd appreciate the funny side of it.

As he typed, he found himself becoming annoyed with his brother.

 So Ryan thought watching porn was cheating, eh? Ha! What did he call actually fucking that pencil-dicked Peter Pan of his? He fired off a quick email to Rose, still smarting over his brother being such a lying sack of…his fingers flew across the keys again.

He returned to his book, jumping forward to a moment where Keith almost catches Samuel and Bertrand romancing the bone, as Wayne always called sex.

 

"What are you doing out here?"

Bertrand was nervous. How had Samuel gotten back to the house, fully naked? He bit down an angry response. He knew now he needed to be with Samuel. Needed more than furtive fumblings on a hot day. He loved Rose.

 

Shit! Back up…

 

Samuel. Buying time, he stared out at the ocean. The yacht that had sunk a few days before still bobbed like a cork, its mast waving forlornly like a stranded sailor. A group of kids swam around and under it, their laughter reaching his ears.

"Just looking…waiting for sunset."

Keith sighed. "You're hoping to see the green flash. You know it's a myth. There's no such thing."

"You're wrong!" Bertrand spat the words out, surprising his partner. "It is real…I've seen it."

 

He stopped. It was real. He had seen it. Only the camera failed to work that day. He had never seen anything like it. If he went to the conference at the Kahala Hilton he'd be right there, right by Black Point. He would make sure he got the moment on film. The Kahala Hilton. He sighed. It was a stunning place. As a kid, his family had visited there and he swum with dolphins in the private lagoon. It changed hands, becoming the Kahala Mandarin and although it remained the same incredible place, it had only recently changed hands back to the Hiltons. He couldn't wait to go back there.

"Oh, boy, your future ex husband is finer than four motherfuckers." Cole was adjusting his pants, when Matt turned to grin at him. "He also seems to enjoy eating a man's ass a whole lot."

"Yeah. Wait until you see him fuck it, too." Matt decided they both needed privacy. He unplugged the laptop, taking it upstairs.

"Night, Matty."

"Goodnight, Cole."

Upstairs, he checked on Daphne who was angelic in her sleep. Her tiny fingers curled over the lilac colored coverlet. Long, dark eyelashes framed her tiny eyes. Perfect. She was precious and perfect and he wondered how Ryan could bear to be away from her. From Cole…

He slipped into his bedroom, closed the door, which he managed with some doing. He'd never had reason to close it before and mountain damp seemed to have rusted the hinges. Sprawling on his bed, he got back online and typed.

 

Rose,

You got me writing again. Your email inspired me. I am going to the convention. We must meet. There is something I want to show you. I'm thinking of you, lover.

Matt

 

He drifted to sleep thinking about fucking Rose in the middle of a haunted Spanish castle on a hot summer's day, except when he pictured it, Rose was a man, a hot sexy man…as anxious for him as Samuel was for Bertrand…

 

* * * *

 

In the morning, he had an hour or so before his online author chat started. Cole had already been up, polishing and cleaning the house, which now sparkled. Ryan had not called and Matt resisted the urge to call his brother and chastise him. His parents, he hoped, were doing that particular heavy lifting for him.

"Let's take the baby for a walk."

Daphne lit up at the suggestion. She kept studying a bruise on her arm from another kid biting her at the park across the road, which Cole took her to as Matt slept. She had actual teeth marks in her skin and it upset Cole tremendously.

"Why don't you call Ryan and tell him? He would want to know," Matt suggested as he dotted more antibiotic cream on the wound. But Cole just shook his head.

"Well, then let's take that walk." They put Daphne in her stroller and trotted down the canyon, the two men holding travel mugs with coffee, munching on Cole's homemade croissants.

A car passed them and Matt's stomach gave a lurch when it paused further ahead. He could hear the car turning around again.

"Somebody you know?"

Matt nodded. "It's Wayne. I think he's stalking me."

Cole gaped at him. "He's stalking you?"

"I told him I'm seeing somebody…" The car passed by, slowly and Cole reached over and grabbed Matt, giving him a tongue kissing he wouldn't forget in a hurry.

The car picked up speed and took off. It was Cole who broke off the kiss.

"We just made him jealous! Now I feel like a man again."

Matt was surprised his legs still worked. His body felt like jelly…Cole had kissed him…Cole, his brother's husband.

Another car passed them and came to a grinding halt.

"What the fuck?" It was Ryan, his face gray and tear-stained. "I've been calling you all morning!"

"You have?" Cole perked instantly, the baby laughed, fingers reaching for her dad.

"I can't believe what an ass I've been." Ryan melted into his husband's arms.

"Daphne and I will see you later." Matt started to wheel the baby back to the house, but Ryan stopped him.

"No, don't. Don't take her away from me. Oh my God, what happened to her arm?"

Ryan scooped his baby up, holding his man and his child as if he would never let them go.

Matt went back to the house, back to his imaginary world. Back to Rose.

Hi, everyone, Matt Malone here and I'm ready to party! Who's here? My girl Rose, are you here?

I'm here, lover.

Guess what, I'm coming to the convention!

There was a pause. It was not his imagination. She paused before responding.

Cool beans!

Cool beans? Who said that after the age of nine? She was nervous. But why?

Yeah, he typed. I love that hotel, can't think of a more romantic place to have a romance writers' convention.

I've never been.

Oh, Rose, you'll love it.

You'll have to show me the island, lover.

Matt shivered. He wanted to show him his hotel room, his bed…and a hot, raunchy time in it. Ahem. You gots it. He was aware they were having a totally private conversation in a very public forum. He had to remind himself it was not the Matt and Rose Show. It was an author chat.

Where is the convention? A reader asked.

Honolulu, Rose typed.

Matt jumped in. Why don't you tell everyone your good news?

LOL. Don't want to steal your moment in the sun, lover. It's your day.

It's your day, too. And your night. All your nights…geez. He needed a double dose of Spanish Uprising to remind himself he was a good, old fashioned homo.

You're the best.

No, you're the best.

One of the readers typed, Geez you two, get a room!

Matt typed, Good idea.

Rose entered a smiley face, which could have meant anything.

"I have a surprise for you."

Matt looked up, salivating at the delicious looking tuna salad sandwich Cole had made for him. He kept typing quips and comments to the group, which now had about thirty people in it. It was a fun chat and Rose had stuck it out for hours. She was still there imploring him for a teaser from his WIP, or work in progress.

Isn't it called Falcon's Lament?

Yes, he typed.

I hope you're going to give us a happy ending this time. What have you got against happy endings?

Nothing. I believe in them, especially when I'm getting a massage.

"Geez…I can't believe you said that. You writers are a horny bunch. Listen, Ryan and I are coming to Honolulu with you! Don't argue. I've booked the tickets. I even found a house on your precious Black Point. We're flying first class, baby!"

"You're coming with me?"

"Second honeymoon. Your parents are taking care of the baby."

Matt thought for a moment. "It's a great idea."

Cole gestured to the computer screen. "Look at what your other future ex husband just typed."

Rose had typed, I give the best massages in town.

He typed back, Which town?

Any town.

I might take you up on that.

"Mind if Ryan and I borrow this?" Cole held up Spanish Uprising.

"No, I think you should have some fun with it. Look after my horny Spanish man though. Don't return him rode hard and put away wet. I'm not done with him yet."

Cole laughed and hugged him. Ryan could still not look him in the eye and Matt knew something in Ryan had broken the previous night.

Matt hugged his brother. "I don't forgive as easily as your husband does."

"Tell me about it," Ryan muttered.

On the screen, Rose had written, Take me up on it, if you dare.

You think I'm a wimp?

Maybe.

No. The wimp is my brother.

"Thanks a lot." Ryan was reading over his shoulder.

What's that mean?

Nothing. See you in Honolulu, lover.

Not if I see you first.

 

Traveling anywhere had become a giant headache. Now that Skycaps had been eliminated outside LAX's airport terminals, the lines inside were interminable. Matt and Ryan's parents insisted on driving them and as Baxter circled the airport a second time after missing the parking structure the first time, Elise and Daphne went inside the terminal with Matt, Cole and Ryan.

Since they were flying first class, their line was short--once they had figured out the spanking-new electronic system of punching your confirmation number into a machine that gave you an access code to electronically check your baggage and get a boarding pass.

"I miss the good old fashioned ticket system," Matt moaned. E-tickets. It's just not…right."

"I miss dealing with an actual human being," Cole grumbled. "A hot guy in a starched uniform…"

Ryan squinted at him. "I've still got my old uniform from my summer job at McDonalds from when I was sixteen. Will that make your dick hard?"

"Only if it comes with fries and a shake."

Matt and Elise laughed.

By the time Baxter came running in, Matt, Cole and Ryan had to say goodbye to them since nobody without a boarding pass could get through security.

Cody hugged the baby thirty times until Matt and Ryan had to yank him away.

"I've never left her for four whole days before." He blinked, walking in a crooked line until Matt and Cody each put an arm around him and they walked the thirteen miles--well, at least it seemed that way--to the chronically confusing schedule of departure gates.

"Are we bad parents?" Cody asked for the tenth time.

"Dreadful." Matt shook his head. "I'm calling CPS in a moment."

Cole actually laughed.

"You're allowed to take a trip. You're not leaving her to fend for herself." Matt found himself smiling. Baxter and Elise adored that little girl. She could not be in better hands.

"What if your dad teaches her to swear and smoke cigars?"

Matt glanced at him. "He doesn't smoke cigars."

"Oh yeah…that's right. But he--"

They stopped short at the big sign warning they needed a boarding pass and their ID on them to proceed further. At least five different security people checked their credentials as they proceeded along the line.

"I wonder how they think we got this far without a boarding pass," Ryan griped. "I'm hungry."

"We'll get food on the other end," Cole assured him. "I hope that cinnamon roll place is open. I plan to do wicked damage to about three of them."

"I thought you were on a diet." Ryan flinched as soon as he said the words. He knew he was already in deep doo-doo.

Cole looked hurt. "Yeah? And I thought you were a nice guy."

"Babe…I'm not saying you need to lose weight. You told me to stop you from eating junk."

"Well, I'm on vacation. I'll eat whatever I want."

Matt and Ryan looked at him. Cole, the underpants model was always on a diet. Matt gave Ryan a helpless look and Ryan manned up.

He leaned forward and planted a big screaming kiss on Cole's mouth. That seemed to effectively stop their sniping.

"Oh, Ryan…"

The two men played nosies and then toesies as they all took off their shoes and belts, depositing them into plastic containers on the conveyer belt. Matt noticed a lot of guys with holes in their socks. It was a wrench to put his beloved laptop into its own separate plastic bucket to be scanned. The only things they were allowed to hold, in fact what they had to hold was their ID and boarding passes.

"That's the new currency, I guess," Cole shrugged. "You're absolutely fucked if you lose either of those things."

"I'm fucked if anything happens to my laptop." Matt watched a security guy running an electronic wand over it. He always worried those things would gum up his computer and leave him electronically stranded.

They all went through the screening process without a hiccup until about twenty people were bunched up together at the end of the conveyer belt, hopping around on one foot, trying to get their shoes back on.

Matt grabbed his laptop bag before he even thought about his shoes, belt or wallet.

"Sir, please come this way." Matt and Cole traded glances as the one person picked for closer scrutiny was clearly an Arab male with a turban on his head.

"Look at the plus side," Cole whispered.

"There's a plus side?" Matt's eyebrows shot high.

"Yeah, lucky guy gets a free anal probe. I wouldn't mind a bit of a feel-up from him." His chin jutted toward a hot looking security guard with a buzz cut.

"Are you trying to make me nuts?" Ryan threw his new running shoes on the ground and tried to squeeze them onto his feet.

"Undo the laces, Ry." Cole got to his knees and undid them, slipping them onto Ryan's feet. Ryan winked at Matt. He'd never seen these two so out of control dysfunctional. They gave a whole new meaning to Gays of our Lives.

They ran to the food shops, loading up on carbs and caffeine. Matt scanned the packed departure gate and saw a group of people wedged into a corner. That had to be wi-fi heaven. He joined them, popped open his laptop, checking his emails. He was shocked to find a terse one from Rose.

 

Hey, Matt,

On my way to L.A. Will see you in Hawaii. I'll be busy, won't have much time to email. Travel safe. Rose.

Rose

 

Ouch! He looked up, watching the way Ryan and Cole were acting all lovey dovey and he noticed for the first time that apart from a couple of families with young kids, almost everybody was a kissing couple. Oh great, that was just great. I'm on the honeymoon flight…

 

Traveling first class was better than anything, almost better than sex. They were the first ones on board and they were given champagne and the thrill of the adventure caught up with him finally. Flying first class to Honolulu to meet Rose and some of their fellow authors and a bunch of readers…well, it was intoxicating. The Hawaiian Airlines staff treated Matt, Cole and Ryan like visiting dignitaries and for five and a half hours, the trip was a whirl of yummy food, champagne and endless jokes.

They landed at Honolulu Airport and Cole was like a tiny, happy kid as they poured out into the warm, humid island air.

"Oh, look at those grass huts! I love this place!"

Matt and Ryan laughed. Cole loved everything today. He stopped at a lei stand, rifled the fridge and was about to buy three orchid and ti-leaf leis before Matt stopped him.

"There's a whole bunch of lei stands outside. That's what's in those grass huts."

"Fab." Cole hiccupped and Ryan pinched his butt, making him laugh. The three men walked over to Dollar and rented a car. They'd discussed it and Cole was insistent they only needed one vehicle between them.

"I'm planning on using your books as my fuck-tour guide. I'm fucking Ryan every single place depicted in your stories. Apart from that and some scrumptious dinners with you and Rose, I'm not planning on sightseeing."

"What about what I want to do?" Ryan joked.

"Unless it involves doing me, you're not doing it. You're still on probation."

"How long am I on probation?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Ryan laughed like a drunken, braying donkey. He and Cole, more than a little tipsy from the endless champagne top-ups, fell into the back seat of the convertible PT Cruiser--after they figured out which one was theirs since there hundreds of the same vehicle--and mauled each other as Matt lowered the top.

He parked outside the lei stands and the three men went from stall to stall, picking out leis. The women operating each one, never stopped threading flowers as Cole insisted on seeing each individual lei, finally buying three gorgeous kukui nut, shell and maille leis woven over with heavenly-scented pikake.

"Oh, these are incredible." Matt kept sniffing his, missing a light as he swung out onto Nimitz Highway.

"Behave." Cole slapped Ryan's hand, which was sneaking down the front of his jeans as Matt waited at the red light. A group of Japanese tourists on a Nippon International bus stared at them. Matt gave them a finger wave, hoping to God his brother wasn't going to strip search Cole in the back seat. They had never, ever even remotely acted this way in front of him before.

"Are they taking our picture?" Ryan stared at the flashes popping from the bus windows. "Cole, show 'em your whopper, baby. Show 'em how big and hot a gay man can be."

"You want me to flash the tourists?" Cole giggled. "You're naughty, Ryan. Get your hand out of my pants."

His breathing turned heavy. Matt heard sounds…oh, Lordy. Ryan was going down on Cole. Cole's head was back, his eyes closed. Hurry up, green light.

"How far away are we?" Cole breathed.

"About half an hour." Oh geez, even the Nippon Tours bus driver was staring now.

"Oh, fuck baby, your cock tastes so good." Ryan came off Cole for a moment, screaming into the wind.

Green light, please!

Ryan went back to his cock-sucking duties and the lights changed.

Matt careened forward, shouting over his shoulder, "Do I need to put the top back up?"

He caught a glimpse of his brother's bare ass and Cole's knees as Ryan got between them.

"Oh, God, oh, Ryan…fuck me."

Matt kept driving, but the top wouldn't get back up. He had to pull over and stop the car to get the roof to cooperate. He was aware that his brother was fucking Cole, the two men naked and in the throes of some magic and manmeat in the middle of…

"Oh, Cole…oh baby. Nobody feels like you do. Nobody."

Matt pulled away from the curb as soon as the roof was latched, turning on the radio. He fumbled for some decent music. What he got was a plethora of country music station and…The Singing Nun.

Our father who art in heaven…

Matt remembered that woman, with the long parted hair, her pure voice and guitar.

"Come for Jesus, baby," Ryan screamed and Cole must have seen the er…light, because the two men were grunting and groaning. Matt resisted giving them a round of applause as they paused at another red light. Waikiki was filled with downtown shoppers. Since his last visit, there were even more boutiques catering to Japanese tourists. A banner stretched across Kalakaua Avenue welcomed the Exotic Romance Writers Conference.

"I feel better now." Ryan moved away from Cole's body, collapsing against the back seat.

"Put the top down, bro. What are ya, a prude?"

Matt pulled over again and dropped the top one more time. He was enthralled by the news bulletin. A man had climbed up a coconut tree to spy on his ex girlfriend and had been stuck there for a day and a half. The local authorities had to fly an expert coconut palm climber, the state's sixteen year old champion from the Big Island to Oahu to help get the guy down.

The three men laughed as they heard the latest developments.

"I love this place!" Cole screamed as they headed to the last, luscious quarter of Waikiki, where it all ended for the tourists, but where it all began for Matt. His heart gave a little leap at the sight of Diamond Head.

"I hear monkeys." Cole was sitting up now.

"That's the Honolulu Zoo over there."

"And birds…oh Daphne would have loved this."

Ryan grabbed Cole's face, sticking his tongue into his mouth.

"You want me to take you to the house?" he asked Cole and Ryan.

"No." Cole checked his watch. "Let's go to the hotel. We can't check into the house until four."

"I can't fuck you again until four?" Ryan pouted, nuzzling Cole.

"You can fuck me in Matt's room. He doesn't mind, do you Matt?"

Yes, I do! I have plans for that room! "No, not at all."

"Wow, Diamond Head is beautiful. Oh, look at that, Ryan."

"I prefer the view right here."

"Stop that."

Matt curved around the bend to the entrance of the Kahala Hilton. His fingers gripped the steering wheel and he concentrated on breathing. He was finally going to meet the woman who confounded and confused his dreams.

"Aloha." The hot hapa-haole valet guy who took the wheel was sure a welcome sight. He'd forgotten how sexy island guys were. Was Rose here yet? Would he recognize her?

"Nervous?" Cole asked, his hand on the small of his back.

"Very."

Cole hugged him. "Let's go organize a little…Hawaiian Uprising!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

"I want you to get excited," Sandra told Thomas. "In fact, I demand you get excited."

Thomas arched an eyebrow. "It's not that easy, Sandra."

She punched him. She'd been doing that a lot lately. "Come on, we're leaving tomorrow. We're going to beautiful Honolulu. You Canadian's don't understand that stuff."

"No, we're beauty deprived."

She nudged him, placing a knee on the cot where he was laying. "Come on, stop moping. I've been going over our itinerary."

Thomas rolled over and groaned. "Sandra, I don't think this army cot is big enough for both of us." He'd slept badly, really badly, and he couldn't entirely blame it on the lumpy old cot.

"You're really cute when you first wake up."

"Yeah, I get uglier as the day wears on." He made a monster face at her and growled.

She laughed and jumped off the cot almost tipping him onto the floor. "I'm really excited. You've never been to Honolulu, have you?"

"No." He sat up.

"And I don't mean for you to get on your knees or anything, but this is costing me a lot. I won't tell you how much, for air fare, the conference fees and stuff."

But she was going to tell him because she was a businesswoman. "How much?" He eyed her.

"I'm not saying." She hugged the brochure to her chest.

"Come on, you want to," he rubbed his eyes, in dire need of caffeine.

"Well, the price of fuel has gone up you know. Prices are up everywhere and--"

"I know, Sandra, we have those in Canada, too, prices."

She gave him a mocking look. "Over two grand."

"I'll pay you back." He reached for his robe and modestly slipped it on over his shoulders under the covers. It didn't look like Sandra intended to give him any privacy.

"Have you ever actually worn that ugly thing?" she asked, looking at him as he got out of bed and belted it. "It looks brand new."

"I'm christening it."

"You didn't have to do that on my account. We stayed together, remember, in that room in New York for the gay thing."

"The gay thing?"

"That book conference where that leather guy tried to lick you."

"He tried to lick my leather pants. And I don't remember stripping for you in the room."

"Unfortunately not, but I don't remember you having that robe."

"Do you have any coffee?"

"Yep. All made. Come on. I'll show you the pictures of the hotel. It's at the Hilton, not far from the airport. The flight takes a little over five hours. We're leaving tomorrow afternoon at two. We'll be eating dinner in Honolulu."

She chatted on. Thomas nodded and smiled. He knew all this of course. She'd told him three times since he'd arrived at her house in Los Angeles. But since it seemed to please her to tell him again, he listened politely, trying to use the appropriate comment at the appropriate time while she teased him by holding the coffee carafe in her hand and not pouring any damn coffee.

"Sandra," he pointed, "coffee…please."

"Oh, yes," she grinned, finally giving him his drug.

She pulled up a chair beside him. "I'm having a huge party tonight and you're the guest of honor."

Thomas took a sip of the coffee then lowered his head onto the table.

"You're going to have to get used to the spotlight."

"But do I have to start tonight?" He groaned.

"Don't bang your head, darling."

"I wasn't thinking of it," he raised his face off the table and issued her a forced smile.

"But you do that. Okay," she sighed, "I won't invite fifty, only twenty, okay?" She hopped up out of her seat. "Oh damn, I have to get my hair done. I have an appointment. Want to go flitting around Los Angeles with me? We could shop."

 He hated to shop. "Oh good."

"Buy something hot to wear to the conference. How about shorts and a shirt with pineapples on it?"

A pineapple shirt was not really his idea of hot. "Ah, no, think I'll pass on the shirt. I might invest in new pair of shorts however."

"You have gorgeous legs, tanned, muscled. You know if I was twenty years younger, I'd…"

"Don't forget, gay and a man." He gave her a look and drained his coffee.

"Well, that too." She pulled him to his feet. He held out his hand to the coffeemaker. "No, no," she said. "Shower, dress, let's go. Hey, what about a makeover?"

He shook his head. "You make over. I watch."

She laughed. "Okay. Oh, and did I tell you I invited my good friend, Edna's son?"

He opened his mouth. "Who?"

"My best friend has a gay son, somewhat flamboyant, but a nice kid. He reads every word you write. In fact, he worships you."

"He's gay, but he worships a writer called Rose?"

"No, he worships you. He knows you're a hot guy."

Thomas gasped, pointing his finger at her. "You…you…said you'd tell no one. And…and…"

She grabbed his finger and pretended to bite it. "I told him because he's pathetic. Poor guy has to have something to dream about. He's coming tonight."

"Coming where tonight?"

She pushed him toward the basement steps. "Here, to the party."

"Edna's desperate, somewhat flamboyant son?"

"Uh hun."

"And just how old is this desperate, somewhat flamboyant son?"

She started up the stairs. Before Thomas reached the basement, she sang out, "Forty!"

Thomas stopped in the middle of the stairway. Forty, he mouthed. Oh My God. Thomas took a quick shower downstairs and pulled on some shorts and a t-shirt. He opened his laptop on the bed and checked his email, wondering if Matt had dropped him a line. He had one message.

 

Hi, Rose,

It's me, Matt. I'm here. Where are you? You never did tell me when you were arriving. You know, I realize that I won't recognize you if I see you. I suppose we'll all have nametags at the conference. I noticed they had a big sign up at the hotel announcing that you were going to be there.

 

Thomas rolled his eyes and groaned. "Oh brother."

 

I'm so proud of you. Anyway, it's beautiful here. I can picture us on the beach. I have a very private house. Drop me an email when you arrive, okay? I could sure use that massage.

Love you. Matt

 

There he went with that love you, again. Thomas smiled slightly. Well, he did that himself now, wrote love you, at the end of his emails. Massage. Yep. I'd gone and said something about that, didn't I? Thomas sighed. His email sounded downright well…seductive, the beach, the private house. Shit, he hadn't even arrived yet and he was already crawling into his bed. Had Matt gone straight on him? After all, it was Rose he was flirting with really, at least, Matt thought so. This was getting too damn confusing. If he could get out of going to this damn thing, he would. He wrote back.

 

Hello, Matt,

We're leaving tomorrow. Sandra is paying and you know what that means. I offered to pay my own way, but this is her way of keeping me on a short leash. I should see you there soon.

Rose

 

He knew it sounded a tad terse, but he was getting stressed about all this. He wasn't sure what in hell Matt was thinking, but the more he talked like that to Rose, the more Thomas wondered if maybe he was posing, too. What if Matt was straight? A hetero male writing gay romance? Um. Well, stranger things had happened. He was going shopping with Sandra. That in itself, was strange.

 

By the time Thomas returned home with Sandra, he was beat. He'd bought one pair of shorts at the cost of almost two hundred dollars, and Sandra had made him try on two dozen pairs before she gave her approval.

"Those shorts are hot enough to melt ice," she said, winking at him in the boutique while the salesgirl kept touching his ass, and saying, "that's nice, very, very, nice." She wrote her phone number on the sales slip, with her address and her pager. She even pointed to it before she would let him have the damn receipt. "If there's anything, anything at all I can do," she smiled slyly, "bring them back."

Thomas yanked a little harder on the receipt and nodded. "Okay," he said. And looked at Sandra. "Can we leave now?"

"I thought she was going to rape you," Sandra laughed, showing off one of her new blouses as soon as they got home.

"Who?"

"The salesgirl."

"Oh, yeah. She was just--"

"Horny?"

He laughed. "Probably."

"Oh God," Sandra said suddenly, "hurry up, the guests are coming."

"Now?"

"An hour. The caterer is coming, too. Is that what you're wearing?" She gave him a look that told him he should be wearing something else.

"Ah, no?"

"No." She pushed him away. "I'll get rid of this stuff. Put on pants and a nice shirt, don't shave. God, I love that shadow thing. If the doorbell rings, answer it, it's the food."

"Why are we doing this again?"

"I'm doing it. You're the guest of honor. To celebrate my success…I mean, yours, of course."

"Of course," he smiled.

 

Two hours later the house was filled with an array of strangers. Sandra introduced him around. Most were ladies in Sandra's age bracket, late forties. A few actually pinched his cheeks. "So, you're one of those Canadi..ends," a woman called Francine looked him over. "Do you speak parlez vous?"

"I beg your pardon?" He peered at her.

"Parlez vous?"

"She means, French," Sandra translated.

"Ah, yes."

"Rose comes from Montreal."

"Well actually, I come from--"

"They only know Montreal, love," Sandra patted his shoulder. "There's only a few places which exist in that country of yours, Montreal, Toronto, Ottawa and on a good day, Vancouver."

"Ah." He nodded. "I'm from Montreal."

"Speak that funny language," she giggled.

"No, I don't think I will," Thomas muttered.

Sandra laughed.

"Did your mother name you Rose? Lovely name. A bit strange for a boy," she said. "But then you're like Edna's son."

Thomas tilted his head. Oh God.

Sandra steered him away.

"Would you please stop introducing me as Rose," he told her.

She looked at him. "They only know you as Rose."

"These are my fans?" he croaked.

"Don't look so pathetic, darling. They're not actually your fans. They're people I know who I force to buy your books."

"Oh God." He put his face in his hands.

"Don't worry, sweetie. You have a lot of voluntary fans, too. Have a cream puff." She patted his arm.

He leaned against the wall then he heard Sandra call out, "There you are, Edna. And where's that Georgie?"

Thomas looked for an exit. He was just about to head down the hallway when Sandra snatched his t-shirt from behind. "Come on, dear. Little Georgie is excited to meet you."

"I really wish you'd stop that, Sandra," he gave her a deadly look.

She let go. "Come on, indulge me. Look at that poor pathetic little creature."

The poor, pathetic little creature, as Sandra called him, weighed at least two hundred and fifty pounds. He came at Thomas on a run. "Rose!" He called out, wrapping his arms around Thomas so tight, Thomas had to wrestle him to get him to let go. He held out his hand to him as he put some distance between them. "Hello, George."

"George is your biggest fan," his mother Edna, equally imposing, nudged her son aside while George stood by scanning him up and down with what only could be described as wanton lust. "I've determined that these pornographic books of yours are good for George."

George nodded and winked at him.

"They're not exactly pornographic, Mrs. Ah?"

"Edna, dear. Now, Rose," she took him around the shoulders and led him aside, "I do have a few suggestions. Less anal and more oral."

Thomas blinked. "Ah…I don't know what to say to that."

"I think when you fuck someone up the A-hole, it should be properly lubricated. Some of your boys are too damn much in a hurry."

He wanted to howl with laughter. Instead he said as soberly as he could, "Well, some things just won't wait, I guess."

"And you need a disclaimer, like for people like George, don't try this at home or some such thing."

"I'll ah…you need to talk to Sandra about that. Look, there she is," he pointed. "I'd, ah, catch her now because she's so much easier to talk into things before ten o'clock. Ah, there, I see a cream puff with my name on it." He made a beeline for the tray of creampuffs, hoping to God she didn't follow him.

Suddenly George was there. He picked up the cream puff, licked his lips and offered it to him. "Lick it," he insisted.

Oh Jesus. "I'm really not…" he began.

George pushed the cream puff against his mouth. Thomas tried to hold onto his temper. Usually, he was a patient man, but damn. He reached up and wiped at his mouth. "There," George winked, "you have cream on your mouth. My cream."

"Look George, I…"

"Mother doesn't have to know," he said softly. He glanced up the stairs. "We could go to your room and you could demonstrate."

"Technically, I don't have a room. My room is far, far away."

"I read your books in bed."

The way he was looking at him was damn creepy. "That's nice."

"I masturbate in bed to your books, Rose." He laughed softly. "I mean, Thomas. I'm not a virgin, you know. Mom thinks so."

"Glad to hear that," Thomas said, looking around.

"You are my inspiration, my sun, my moon."

"I don't know about that, George." Thomas shook his head. "Eat your cream puff." He walked away, knowing full well that George was following close behind. Was this nightmare ever going to fucking end? He wondered if Matt had written back? He regretted his email now. It sounded cold. He hadn't meant to sound like that. But damn, what would a gay man want with a straight woman? It didn't make sense. He had the feeling that all this was going to turn into shit. He'd rather go home and live with the fantasy.

"There he is," Sandra announced, pulling him into the center of the living room. There was a round of applause.

Oh no, what in hell was this now? He took a step back and bumped into George who took the opportunity to grab his ass. Thomas turned around and snarled at him. He grinned and backed off.

 

"Here she is, Rose Carter, right here in my living room, and now moving on to Hollywood."

There was more applause, some bravo's.

Thomas smiled and mumbled his appreciation. He wasn't really good with this stuff. He was a writer and let's face it, writers were solitary creatures. If they got a good review, a word of praise from a reader, they were happy. But they were also onto the next book. Right now as he stood there, he was itching to write.

"Now, a surprise," Sandra called out.

Oh no, he didn't like surprises.

"Thomas will read from his latest book, a book, which will soon be a big Hollywood blockbuster, Last Chance." She pushed the book at him before he could even register what in hell was happening. "I've book marked the pages I want you to read from."

The applause was deafening. Thomas glared at Sandra, which was rewarded with a smile one might receive from an indulgent mother. He didn't want to read aloud, especially not with lecherous George clinging to him like a salivating puppy.

Sandra pointed to a chair which she had especially positioned for him to sit on. "Your throne," she bowed.

Oh my God. Could this get any cheesier!

"I'll stand behind his chair and help him turn the pages," George volunteered enthusiastically.

"I can turn the pages myself, thanks," Thomas muttered between clenched teeth.

"George, give him space dear," Sandra tutted him.

There was silence as twenty or so faces peered at him. He cleared his throat.

 

Douglas reached out his hand to Pierre.

 

 "I love those French names," someone giggled.

 

"Come with me. Come with me now."

"I can't," Pierre shook his head. He was determined not to cry.

"You don't love him. You never loved him."

"That doesn't matter. I made a promise."

"So, you intend to live your life without love, without passion?"

Pierre looked up at him. It was hard to look away from those mesmerizing green eyes of his.

"I can show you," he whispered, moving closer. "Let me show you."

"No." Pierre stood up. "I'd rather you didn't. It's better if I never know. I…" Tears ran down his cheeks, as hard as he'd tried to hold them back. Since the moment he'd touched Douglas he'd wanted more. He was an addiction he had to resist. Anthony would kill him if he found out, kill both of them probably. They'd had one kiss, that night outside the club in the alley. That kiss had fueled him through many weeks, left him feverish when he dared to recall it.

Douglas pulled him close now. He struggled but not hard enough. Douglas was bigger, stronger. Pierre knew he could probably make it tough for him but in the end Douglas would be the victor, and deep down, that's what he wanted. He wanted him, desperately. He wanted his mouth on his, his naked body, hot and slick with sweat moving over his, claiming it, slamming his hard cock into his ass and leaving him begging for more.

 

"Oh my," someone spoke out loud, "scandalous."

George leaned down and said in Thomas's ear, "You're Douglas and I'm Pierre."

Not bloody likely.

Sandra pushed George back like some vigilant security guard. "Let him read. Give him room."

The ladies in the room were waiting, even the lady who kept saying how scandalous it was gave him an impatient look.

 

Douglas kissed his mouth, holding his arms steady now at Pierre's side. Pierre quieted, whimpering softly now. Douglas released his arms. "Touch me."

Pierre's eyes widened as Douglas undid his shirt and slowly removed it, his well muscled chest tantalizingly displayed in front of his eyes. He undid his zipper now, pulling his pants over his hips. Pierre sucked in some breath as his erect, nine inch cock, became visible for his inspection.

 

"Nine inches, oh baby. What's yours, Rose?"

Thomas looked up from the book. Whoever said that wasn't going to confess. His gaze was met with a host of innocent looking faces.

It was eight actually, on a good day, but what's an inch?

"Yours is eight and a half, succulent inches," Georgie said, loud enough to cause the onlookers to eye Thomas curious.

Thomas self-consciously moved the book lower into his lap. He gave Sandra a desperate look.

"Go on," she urged. "You must get used to this kind of thing."

Must he? "Well, guess you guys know what happens next," he offered, laughing. "Then well, Douglas leaves and they're separated for awhile due to Anthony's murderous tendencies and at the end, they get back together yada, yada, yada. The end." Thomas snap closed the book, hoping that would be it.

There was silence for a moment than Thomas sighed with relief, standing up as a round of applause invaded his ears. Thank God.

Several ladies came up to talk to him after. Many of them were wonderfully sincere. They loved the book. They loved Douglas and Pierre. They wanted a sequel. They hugged and kissed him. It was nice except for the few that tried to pinch him in various places. One woman asked him if he was really gay. "Yeah," he said. "I'm really, really, gay."

"You should ditch the Rose, however," she said, "even if your mother did choose to name you that. You're one of those masculine gay guys and Rose just doesn't do it for you, you know?"

Thomas laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. Actually, my mother named me Thomas."

The guests were starting to leave. Thomas stood at the door with Sandra saying his goodbyes. "Thanks for buying my books even if Sandra made you," he called out. Suddenly he realized that George was still there.

"Hey, Rose, Thomas, Carter," he said, grinning.

"Don't pinch me," Thomas held up his hands. "I don't think I could take any more."

"Okay," he laughed. "It's been real nice. I don't think Sandra would mind if you took me upstairs, showed me that eight and a half inches." He raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't Mom waiting in the car?"

"Yeah. I just want to see it."

"Oh. Well, it's temporarily ah…out of service."

"I love you, Thomas," he said. "If you were a girl, I'd marry you."

"But you're gay. And I'm not a girl, George."

"I know that, geez," he said. "You're so handsome. Did anyone ever tell you that you look that French guy?"

"What French guy?"

"That French guy that was in La Femme Nikita? Dupee?"

"Dupee…oh, Roy Dupuis?"

"Yeah. That's him. He's so pretty, looks like you. Anyone tell you that?"

"Yeah, a few times."

"Where's he at?"

"He's from Montreal."

"Um, yummy. All those Montreal guys look like you and him?"

"Ah, yeah, George," Thomas nodded. "We all look alike."

He laughed. "Well, since you're not going to show it to me, guess I'll go."

"George," Thomas said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Did you ever think of taking a little vacation from Mommy?"

"Naw, I'm waiting for her to kick off. She's loaded. Then I'm going cruising for hot men and drink pina coladas on the beach."

George was no fool.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

It wasn't until the next morning that Thomas checked his email. He and Sandra had sat up talking until well after two in the morning. She was like a little girl, showing him the plan for the table she would set up for Esquire Romance. As it turned out, Matt's stuff was right next to his. "I want to profile Matt's two books," Sandra had said. "That's why I put them into print and putting him next to you will draw the crowd."

Thomas thought it was a good idea. Sandra had good instincts. He was all for promoting writers and of course he had a little soft spot for Matt Malone.

He reached for his laptop as he was lying in bed, wrote a few words on his Yahoo group, letting people know he would be headed for the conference tonight. He opened his email, answering a few questions from readers, his promotional assistant who wished him luck. He saved Matt's email for last. He read it twice before he decided he had no idea what in hell to write back.

 

Rose,

I didn't sleep all night. I tried to interpret your last email to me then gave up. The tone was completely different. It didn't even sound like you. Why so cold? Did I do or say anything wrong? I don't know what in hell this is between us. I think our readers picked up on it even before we did. There's this connection, or there was. I feel quite desperately lost and I'm not sure why. I await our meeting with both excitement and trepidation. Please tell me that nothing's changed, that you long to meet me as much as I long to meet you.

Still yours, Matt

 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking hell!" Thomas slammed the laptop shut without even shutting down his email. He didn't realize that he'd been yelling loud enough to bring Sandra on the run or that he'd practically put his fist through the wall.

"Thomas?"

When she called him Thomas, it was because she was either dead serious about something or concerned.

He was standing up now, towel wrapped around his waist, staring at himself in the mirror.

"Baby?" she said, touching his shoulder. "You're shaking."

He looked at her for a minute. "I'm…" he took in some air. "I'm confused."

"About?"

He shook his head. "I'm obsessed with a ghost, an imagined fantasy out there in cyber land. All I have is his words. And I don't even know if they mean what I think they mean."

"Matt exists."

"I know he exists." Thomas sighed. He shook his head. "I've hurt him. I never meant to do that. And what he's enamored with doesn't exist. Rose doesn't exist."

"Yes, she does," Sandra said. "Rose is part of you. She is you. It doesn't matter what sex you are, Thomas. Matt feels something for you because you've touched him in some way. Words are very powerful. You know that, you use them, you craft them. You are a word wizard, Thomas. But everything you write, it comes from you. It is your soul he reads. And it's beautiful. That beauty belongs to you. It doesn't matter what in hell you call yourself. That's what draws the readers to you. They feel your sincerity. You are sexy and bold, yet loving and kind. Your books drip that."

"Some image there, Sandra."

"There it is," she laughed. "That's you. And it makes me smile. It makes me feel alive and tweaks my libido just enough to make me love you totally." She hugged him. "Baby, it will be all right. I promise." She let him go. "It doesn't hurt that you're so…ah…" she allowed her gaze to travel over him in the towel, "buff."

"Where in hell did you hear that word?" Thomas laughed, wagging his finger at her comically.

"I know lots of stuff," she raised an eyebrow. "I read your stuff, you and Matt, have a limitless vocabulary when it comes to describing hot men. Now get dressed and I'll send you a bill for the wall."

"I'll fix it," he grumbled.

"Good, the putty and stuff are on the work bench."

 

The airport was really crowded. Sandra had too much stuff. She'd packed enough for two months. She was told to transfer some stuff to her carryon luggage. "They made me pay a surcharge," she complained as Thomas came to sit beside her in the terminal with a cup of coffee in his hands.

"I told you that you packed too much."

"You men, I swear you could survive on two pairs of underwear and a disposable razor."

"Don't need the underwear," he mouthed, raising an eyebrow.

She clicked her tongue. "I hope you brought that robe because we're sharing. I wasn't about to pay for two rooms."

"Same bed?" He ran his tongue around his lips.

She laughed, actually blushed. "Behave."

He threw his head back and laughed.

Two young women smiled at him from across the aisle. Thomas raised his coffee cup to them in salute and they giggled a little and looked away.

"Why don't you go over there and promote yourself," Sandra suggested. "They seem malleable."

Thomas looked at her and shook his head. "You're something else."

"Well, they look like they want to eat you, why not offer them a book instead."

"Yep, that always does it for me. Nothing like giving me a book to quell my hard on."

She laughed. "Thomas."

Thomas sipped his coffee. "Yes, mother. You should stand up because I think they're calling our row numbers."

She got to her feet as Thomas threw his paper cup in the garbage.

The two young women stood up, too. Thomas paused and let them go ahead, waving his arm gallantly.

"Hi," the dark haired one said.

"Hello," he smiled back.

"You from L.A.?"

"Nope."

"Are you married?"

"Nope."

"You're not gay, are you…because damn it, all the good ones are?"

"Afraid so," he said.

She reached out and touched his shoulder. "If you get an itch to climb the fence…"

"I don't usually climb fences, but I'll look you up if I ever do," he said, smiling again.

She laughed. "Yeah right. You have a boyfriend, I suppose?"

"Nope. Not yet, but I'm hoping."

"Someone as gorgeous as you are?"

"I don't know. I have no idea what he looks like and ah…you're good for my ego."

"What seat you in? You sitting with your mother?"

Thomas suppressed a smile as they walked through the tunnel. "Don't let her hear you say that. Not my mother, my publisher and friend."

"You're a writer?"

"So they tell me." He showed his pass and I.D. and walked onto the plane. He took his seat beside Sandra.

"What do you write?" The young woman sat in the seat across from him.

"Gay, erotic romance."

"But you're a guy."

"Yes, I'm that all right. I'm also gay and romantic." He grinned. "Go figure."

Sandra leaned over and handed her a card. "Rose Carter. The hottest writing on the web. They're making a movie out of his latest book."

"Your name is Rose?" She looked at him.

He laughed. For a moment, he thought about that then he said, "Yeah, it is."

 

Thomas actually fell asleep halfway through the flight. Sandra poked him in the ribs when the island of Oahu came into view. It was breathtaking, absolutely, the most magnificent sight he'd ever seen. "God, you could fall in love here," he whispered.

"Yes, in love with the scenery."

"Yeah, that, too," he replied, sitting back against the seat again, feeling the plane gradually fall a little in altitude.

He was all eyes as they headed toward the hotel. The sun was shining, the palm trees swaying, and hell, there were gorgeous men everywhere. Too bad, there was only one man on his mind as they sped past spectacular mountains and beautiful sea.

Sandra took charge when they got to the hotel, all business, and very much the publisher. "You should be wearing those shorts," Sandra told him as they walked to the elevator, "we could have gotten a bigger room."

Thomas shook his head, glancing around to see the bellhop pushing the rack, which held their luggage.

"Third floor," Sandra said, handing him one of the electronic keys. "Don't lose it. That's in case you see something you like and come in late." She giggled.

"You might see something you like," he eyed her.

"I don't have time for that," she shook her head.

Thomas grinned. Surrounded by this kind of majesty forced you into making time, even if you didn't have any time to make.

Sandra opened the door to their hotel room. Nicely decorated and clean. Gorgeous view of the ocean and a big shower. There was a big dish of tropical fruit sitting on a table in the corner of the room.

"Two single beds," Sandra said. "Too bad."

Thomas laughed.

"I want to be near the window," she said, rushing to the door when a knock sounded. "That's the luggage."

"Aloha," Thomas gave the bellhop a tip. He smiled at Thomas. Thomas smiled back.

"Mahalo," he said softly and left, glancing back at Thomas once before leaving.

"You are so cultured," Sandra teased. "Do you have that effect on everyone?"

"I don't even have the shorts on yet," he gave her a devilish grin.

"Stop it. I need to eat. If I'm not going to have sex, I need food," she said, hanging up some clothes.

Thomas sat on the bed and opened his laptop. He pressed it on, waited then said, "Shit."

"What?"

"Battery's dead."

"Didn't you shut your computer down?"

He swore under his breath. "Guess not," he muttered. He lay back on the bed with a sigh.

"Was that when you had your fit and slugged the wall?"

"Never mind."

"You don't need it here. You'll see Matt soon enough. Let's go eat. If you change into those shorts, maybe I'll get a discount."

 

As they sat at the hotel bar a few hours later, Sandra jotted things down in her notebook while Thomas stared into his glass of warm beer.

"Why didn't you drink something exotic?" Sandra looked up at him suddenly, pointing to her drink which was housed in a pineapple and adorned with colorful flowers.

He couldn't really see himself drinking out of that.

"Not macho enough," she teased.

"Too sissy, even for me," he replied.

"It might improve your mood."

"I'm fine."

"You're in one of the most beautiful places in the world and you have a face like a cat's ass."

"Now that's a descriptor."

She returned her attention to her little book.

"Have you ever seen him?"

"Who?"

"Matt Malone?"

"No, but I will soon."

Thomas nodded, fiddling with his half drunk beer glass. He whirled his seat around and glanced out the window. He saw the people strolling by, heard laughter. He sighed. Then he spotted something that made him lift his head up a little. There were three men walking by, two holding hands, one on his own, walking out in front. He was pointing at something. All three of them stopped directly in front of the window. The one out in front was smoking hot, tall, slender, fair hair falling around his face. He was dressed in sand colored Bermuda shorts and a white t-shirt, dangling a pair of dark sunglasses in his hand. For a moment, the young man glanced in the window. Thomas realized suddenly that he was looking directly at him, and damn it, he couldn't help but look back. Yum.

The other two men seemed to be deep in discussion now with one another. It looked like one them wanted to go inside for a drink and the other one was opposed.

The man with them smiled. Goddamn it, what a smile. It just about knocked him off the stool.

The other two men began to walk off. The other man hesitated a moment, looked back at him and threw up his hands, then he followed, disappearing from Thomas' sight.

"See something you like?" Sandra teased.

It startled him. He turned to look at her and laughed. "Yeah, maybe. He didn't come in." He shrugged.

"Was he interested?"

"Hell, I don't know. Probably thirsty."

She laughed. "Or hungry for some man meat."

"Sandra!"

"You are too damn cute, Thomas."

"Yeah, right, that's why hottie there kept on walking."

"Drink your warm beer. Want to go cruising?"

"No. I am not, under any circumstances, going cruising with you."

She shrugged. "Just a thought. You need to go to bed anyway."

"Why, mother?"

"Because," she laughed, "you're giving a talk."

"I'm what?" That was news to him.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?"

"Oh, no you didn't. On what? On how to impersonate a woman?"

"No. On writing silly, in your genre. I'm sure Matt will sign up for that." She grinned.

Thomas stood up with a sigh. "Okay, let's go back to the room. You got me into this, so you're helping me organize it. I hope your laptop is charged."

"Yep. Will you be wearing those shorts while we work?" She nudged him.

"No," he replied, shaking his head.

She followed him to the elevator, shaking her head. "Too bad."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

Thomas was awakened the next morning by the sound of Sandra's alarm clock blaring in his head. While it bleeped, Sandra was in the shower, singing a rousing rendition of When the Saints Going Marching In. He groaned and rolled himself into a little ball, throwing the pillow over his head. Now he remembered the nightmare that was rooming with Sandra. She'd just about driven him nuts in New York. Thank God there'd been so many um…interesting distractions there.

He smiled, remembering that hunk from last night with the sweet smile and the killer body. Thomas's hand snaked down under the blankets and gripped his cock. He straightened out his limbs, sunk his head down in the pillow and raised his hips a little. He stroked his cock nice and slow, imagining that guy had come into the bar last night and invited him for a walk on the beach. Um. Yeah. The moonlight shining down on his naked hard body, his cock begging for Thomas's attention. "Want something?"

"Oh yeah," he replied with that killer smile. "I want you. I saw you sitting there at the bar and I thought God, that's my fantasy come to life. Hot. You are so hot, Thomas."

"Um, Matt." Thomas jerked his cock a little harder, his other hand moving across his chest, lightly pinching one nipple then the other. A little shiver ran up his spine. He licked his lips. He moved onto his side and inserted a finger up between his crack, teasing his anus a little as he pulled harder on his cock. He teetered there on the edge. "Oh, Matt," he groaned. "Yeah. Baby, that's it. That's it. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Like that."

His cock pulsed and gulped out his release. "Ummmm, yeah." He felt the come juice through his fingers. He relaxed his body, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes. "Umm," he rolled over on his side again and closed his eyes. He would have fallen back to sleep if Sandra hadn't of come out of the bathroom, singing an old Andy Kim song, and off key at that.

Woman, take me in your arms, rock me Baby.

Thomas looked up at her dancing around the room with the towel on her head. He had to laugh. It was a sight.

"You still asleep?" She took a break from her song and looked over at him. "Hurry up, doll. You'll miss breakfast."

Thomas sat up. "That's not the tune."

She grinned at him and threw him his robe. "Then sing it to me."

He grabbed the housecoat and shrugged into it, making a mental note to tell someone downstairs to change the sheets. He walked over to her and twirled her around. "Woman, take me in your arms, rock me, baby! Rock me baby. There's nothing to it, just say you want to do it…"

He was dancing her around the room, making her laugh. "Hey," she said, breathless, pushing him away, "you're in a good mood. You'd swear you just got laid."

Thomas grinned at her and headed to the bathroom. "Something like that," he muttered under his breath.

When he emerged from the shower, Sandra glanced up at him and grinned. "Holy," she said. "You look hot. Those white shorts, they do it for you. I never realized what a great ass you had, Thomas."

"Yes, you did. You've told me often."

"Yes I did. Anyway," she circled him, trailing a hand over his rough jaw, "nice." She moved his hair off his shoulder. "I love the red t-shirt. You should have bought one a size smaller. You have great abs and those biceps. And the chest…"

"Sandra," he told her. "Focus. This T-shirt is the right size. I'm not auditioning for slut of the year."

"Too bad, you'd win."

"I'm not sure how to take that." He shook his head. "Show me the schedule. I'm not doing that thing today, am I?"

"No, tomorrow afternoon. But we need to go now, get in line for registration. We have to find our table and I've got to track down my other authors. The world does not revolve around Rose Carter, you know."

"Could have fooled me."

"Come on, stud. We'll register first and eat breakie later."

"Breakie?"

"Don't forget your key."

"No, mother. I got it."

"Stop calling me mother. I want some of the other publicists to think you're my hot, young lover. It will have them seething with jealousy. Try and look like you have stamina."

"I'll put a cucumber in my shorts."

"Pineapple might be easier to come by."

Thomas laughed as they walked to the elevator. "I draw the line at walking around with a pineapple in my pants."

"And the costume party, what are you going as?"

"What costume party?"

"The last night. You have to pick a character. They will have rentals available right here at the hotel."

"I'm already in costume, remember? I'm either a woman impersonating a man, or vice versa."

"Get serious. I think you should go as a Scotsman."

He gave her a strange look as the elevator dinged.

''You have great legs.''

Thomas was surprised to see the crowd of women. He nodded, smiled. He knew the women were staring at him. "Are you anyone?" one asked him.

"Nope," he looked at her. "No one. This is someone though, the publisher of Romance Esquire," he pointed to Sandra. "I'm her ever ready young stud."

"Who hoo!!" some woman hollered out.

Thomas was laughing.

Sandra looked flustered. "He's kidding. This, ladies," she said with a smug smile, "is Rose Carter."

There was dead silence in the elevator.

When the elevator finally opened at the lobby, a chorus of laughter rang out. Thomas almost got mowed over as the women barreled past. "Sure," one of them said. "And I'm Stephen King."

Thomas watched them march off with wry grins. "She didn't look anything like Stephen King. But I can see, that the prejudice is still alive and well," he muttered.

"I can't believe you said that," Sandra grumbled as they walked into the room where registration was taking place.

"Well," Thomas said, lifting an eyebrow, "it's a hell of a lot easier than wearing a pineapple in my shorts. In fact, Sand, I don't think I have enough room in these things to put a pineapple."

"Shut up," she said, patting his groin discreetly, "you don't need a pineapple."

He laughed. "Gee, thanks Sandra."

The lines were long. Thomas stood there with his arms crossed and his head down. Some lady walked over to him at one point and asked him if he was the cover model on Deirdre's Inns Interlude Romance book.

"Who?" he blinked.

"Deirdre Inns. She wrote the Under His Cover Trilogy."

"Never heard of it," he said.

"Interlude Romance."

"Oh, ah, no." He shook his head.

"Well, you could be."

"Could be what?"

"A cover model." She smiled then lowered her voice. "My room is 432. My husband didn't come."

"Didn't, or can't?" He started laughing.

Sandra knitted her eyebrows together and shook her head at him.

"Oh well," the woman said, "see you later, sweetie. Room 432."

Thomas watched her walk off.

"Do you have to be so…so…Thomas like?" Sandra grumbled.

He looked at her. "It was over her head. She didn't get my joke."

"I did. I got it…your husband didn't come, or can't come. Very funny."

"I thought so."

"That could be a potential reader."

"Her husband isn't here, Sandra, it's not reading she wants me to do with her in room whatever she said. Besides, she reads Interlude romance." He visibly shuddered.

"Try to behave."

"Yes, mother."

"No more mother."

"Yes, mistress?"

She laughed out loud now, taking his arm. "I need to brand you."

"You will. I'll have one of those name tags soon, saying I'm a product of Esquire."

"And don't you forget it!"

"I won't, mistress. Please, please punish me."

"Bedroom eyes," someone said suddenly.

"Huh?" He turned to see another woman behind him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You have bedroom eyes."

"Ah, thanks…you have living room…I don't know…hands?"

She laughed. "I'm a big fan of yours."

"You are?"

"You are Rose Carter, aren't you?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"I was in the elevator awhile back. I believed you."

"Thank you."

"I'm Samantha Coolish. I write for Damskin."

"Oh, Samantha," Thomas said, taking her hand, "I've actually read your work…ah…Taking Him Down. I loved it."

She bowed her head. "Thanks, Rose. I had a feeling you'd look exactly like this."

He grinned.

"I've been on chat groups with you. You have such a great sense of humor."

"Yeah but it's starting to wear thin now." He pointed to the line.

"I know the feeling. Have you seen Matt Malone?"

"No," he could hardly breathe. "Where is he?"

"He was around here a while ago, looking for his publisher."

Sandra was busy talking to another publisher a few feet away.

"Ah, do you know where he went?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry.''

Thomas took a step out of line.

"I wouldn't do that," Samantha said, "look at the line in back of us. Matt was the smart one. He came early."

"Yeah, that's what I should have done, but I was up late working."

"I'm coming to your workshop. I just hope it's not all filled before I get up there to register."

"Let me know, I'll take you up to the podium with me. I can use all the help I can get."

She laughed. "I've read your work. I don't think so. So, you and Matt, what's the story?"

"No story."

"Well, you guys seem to have quite a rapport going online. Rumors are that you guys are hot for each. It's all over the net."

"Greatly exaggerated," he cleared his throat, looked away.

"Too bad. You'd be perfect together. You're dark, he's fair, both absolutely gorgeous. I'd love to use you guys as characters in my next book. How hot would that be?"

So, Matt was gorgeous. "Change the names to protect the innocent?"

"You innocent, Thomas?" she chuckled. "I doubt that. Congratulations on Last Chance. I cried."

''Didn't mean to make you cry." He moved up a little.

''Yes, you did,'' she said.

 His palms were sweating now. He wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying anymore. The roar around him sounded like a bunch of bumble bees and he was getting a super headache. His heart was pounding in his chest. Was he having an anxiety attack? He'd never had one of those before. But the thought that Matt could be right around the corner was overwhelming. "Sandra," he said, reaching out to her.

"What?"

"I'm not feeling so hot. Can you register for me? I need a few minutes, maybe some air. I'm feeling a little claustrophobic."

"Sure babe, I can do it. Go ahead."

Thomas excused himself and headed down the hallway. He paused for a second in front of another room where row after row of tables were set up with various publishers and authors' names displayed. There ahead of him was a young, fair haired man. His back was turned, and he was wearing jeans and a light blue shirt. He stood in front of one of the tables speaking to a short, plumb woman with glasses and grey hair. As Thomas drew closer, he noticed that the sign on the table said, Esquire Romance.

Thomas was near enough to hear them speaking now. "I've been waiting such a long time to meet you," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Matt, Matt Malone."

The woman reached over and took his hand. "Matt? It's nice to meet you, too. I have been so looking forward to meeting other authors from Esquire."

Thomas was trembling. He swallowed the lump in his throat. This was Matt, his Matt.

"It's a good place to be," he was saying. "I want you to know how much your friendship has meant to me."

"It has?" The woman smiled.

 Oh God, Matt thought that the woman he was speaking to was him, well, Rose.

"I've been inspired by your writing," Matt said. "I--"

"You've been inspired by my writing," Thomas said suddenly. "Hello Matt, I'm Rose."

Matt whirled around. His eyes widened.

Thomas blinked. "You're the guy I saw on the street last night."

Matt seemed speechless. He turned back around to the woman. "Who then, are you?"

"I'm Christy Montery. I edit your books, Matt."

"Oh," he said. Then he turned around again.

Thomas stood there, waiting for Matt to say something. He didn't.

"You're gorgeous," Thomas breathed. He gave Matt an awkward smile.

"Yeah, you, too!" He said briskly, brushing past Thomas without another word.

"Matt," Thomas called after him. He chased him halfway down the corridor. "Will you wait a minute?"

Matt stopped, looked at him. Thomas's heart beat hard in his chest. He was everything he could have imagined and more. He felt Matt's gaze move over him then away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mislead you. I didn't have a choice. Can we start over?"

Matt looked into his eyes. "Damn it, Rose, I mean, what in hell is your name anyway?"

"Rose," he smiled. His hand shook a bit as he reached out and touched Matt's cheek. "You're beautiful, Matt Malone. But I knew that before I even saw you. I'm the same person. I just have different equipment and, if I'm correct, that suits you?"

Matt smiled a little. He ran his gaze over him again slowly this time, enough to make Thomas blushed. Matt raised an eyebrow. "Yeah," he breathed, "it suits me just fine."

"Then let's…"

"But," Matt put up a hand, "I need some time to digest all this, okay?"

"That's fair." He looked away. Everything he'd ever wanted was right in front of his eyes and he wasn't sure if he was going to be lucky enough to get it. He swallowed something hard in his throat.

Matt touched his shoulder. "Rose?"

He turned, smiled at him. "Yeah?"

"Is it really you, baby?"

"It is," he nodded, pleased with the endearment. "Read my words and you'll know. I'm there in those words. They don't lie."

He nodded and walked away.

Thomas watched him go with the greatest feeling of desperation he'd ever felt in his life.

I fell in love with you when there was nothing, but space between us and your words…your essence…coming through to me somehow, telling me that you're the one. I still love you, Matt. I'll love you for the rest of my life, even if…

He didn't want to think about the if. He'd do anything, anything that had to be done to convince him that nothing had changed. He was still his Rose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

Matt ran down to the lagoon level of the hotel, his cheeks flushed with color. He had never been so embarrassed in his life. Rose was a man! This should have been good news. It was good news…except…why had Rose waited so long to tell him? He stumbled down the stairs covered in an expensive, thick, Asian-patterned carpet into daylight and saw the lagoon's blue-black water rippling with recent activity.

One lone dolphin was bouncing a soccer ball off his nose, his trainer, dressed in a wet suit, watching from the edge of the lagoon. He turned to grin at Matt.

"A small reward because he's been a good boy. He played nicely with the tourists today."

Matt's mind fog lifted and he watched the dolphin scooting around the pool. "Doesn't he always play nicely?"

The trainer's hand made a back and forth motion. "He's fussy. He prefers men." There was a look in the trainer's eye that spoke volumes, but Matt had enough problems as it was. He couldn't go to his hotel room because Ryan and Cole had shanghaied it and the house Cole had rented wouldn't be available yet.

"Well, he's bending that soccer ball like he's David Beckham." Matt winced at his own lousy joke, but the trainer laughed.

"He's showing off."

Matt nodded. Rose was a man. Rose was a man. He touched the trainer's shoulder. "I'll see you later." He went back upstairs, avoiding the throng of people.

"Are you really Sylvia Stanley? Love the green hair! It's amazing!"

"Oh my God, I knew it was you…you always talk about your fingernails breaking…what's that you've got painted on them? The Hawaiian flag? How cool!"

He rushed past the wild and weird snatches of conversation. Writers were a wacky bunch, that's for certain. He'd check his room and see if Ryan and Cole were done. If not, he'd take the next plane home. He'd go to the Channel Islands, teach Daphne how to swim and how to detect rotten, lying sons of bitches and…

Cole was walking toward him now, a towel over his shoulder.

"We're going downstairs to book a dolphin swim. Want to come?"

"No."

"What's the matter?"

"I just met Rose."

"Really?" Cole's gaze darted around. "Which one is she?"

"She is a he."

"I knew it! I knew it!"

Ryan joined them wearing the skimpiest Speedos Matt had ever seen in his life. They left nothing to the imagination.

"What in the world…"

"He made me wear them." Ryan held his towel over his cock that took up most of the space in the tiny spandex swimwear.

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. I'm on probation." Ryan sighed. "He wanted me to wear a g-string."

Matt pursed his lips so he wouldn't smile.

"Yeah, he's my bitch." Cole playfully slapped Ryan's butt.

"Excuse me…"

They all turned to see a tall, dark and handsome man hovering.

"Put your eyeballs back, Ryan. You're in enough trouble." Cole slapped his butt again and Matt knew this time it stung.

"Can I talk to you?" The dark haired man was looking at Matt.

"You already are."

"How rude." Cole stepped forward. "Forgive my brother-in-law's sledgehammer wit. I'm Cole, this is my husband Ryan. And you're…"

"Rose Carter."

"Geez, Louise. You really need a shave. You don't even look like a pre-op." Ryan looked him up and down. "You get away with pretending to be a woman where you live?"

"Ryan!" Cole nudged him. "I'm sorry, Rose. You see what I have to put up with?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ryan frowned at him.

Cole responded by snatching Ryan's security blanket-towel away from him, leaving Rose Carter staring at his bulging bits.

Thomas looked away again. "I'm Thomas Carter, also known as Rose Carter…also known as a guy who feels very bad for not telling you sooner, Matt." His gaze was fixed firmly on Matt's face.

"Oh, how romantic." Cole beamed.

Thomas looked desperate. "Listen…Jan Morrow gave Brad Allen a second chance."

Matt glared at him. "Pillow Talk was a movie and she didn't exactly give him a second chance. He took it. He kidnapped her. He carried her down the street to his apartment--"

"How about if I carry you up to your room?"

There was a slight pause, then Matt laughed.

"Here's the key card." Cole handed it to him.

Matt snatched it from Cole. "You left the sheets all rumpled I'll bet."

Cole shrugged. "We're on our second honeymoon. "I tell you what, we'll keep the room and you can have the house at the beach."

"I'm hungry," Ryan pouted.

"You're always hungry." Cole glanced over at Thomas. "Want to have a late lunch, early dinner with us?" He ignored Matt's pleading look.

"Oh…well, I'd love that. If I'm not imposing."

"You're not imposing. Matt's been mooning about you for so long now…"

"Cole!" Matt's eyes bulged, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Ryan laughed until Cole stepped on his foot. Hard.

"Well, well, well, I see you've all met." A woman stepped away from the crowd and over to them.

"This is our publisher, Sandra." Thomas was looking at Matt again. "Have you two had a chance to meet yet?"

"I have some people I want you to meet, Matt." She threaded her arm through his and led him away.

"You have no idea how happy I am that you're a man!" he heard Cole saying. Oh, God…could Ryan and Cole be trusted alone with Thomas? What if they shed his secrets? What if…

"Matt, this is Jessie Jansen. She writes all those BDSM books." He knew the ones. The covers disturbed him so much he'd never read a single one. Under her breath when Jessie was distracted, Sandra added, "Even though I keep telling her BDSM doesn't sell."

Jessie Jansen had the Goth look from 1974 nailed. A dog collar around her neck had a padlock and plastic skull hanging off it. Her huge, pudgy body was shoved into a tight bodice dress. Her boobs squeezed out like giant sausages and he could see nipples. She licked her black-painted lips and he saw a bolt passed through her tongue. He never understood piercings.

She looked at him, after fielding a cell phone call from somebody called Ernie who wanted instructions on heating mac and cheese in the microwave.

"My three year old," she sighed. "My husband's docking the pigs' tails. The kids are in the house alone."

Matt did not know how to respond to that one. Neither did Sandra, apparently.

Jessie tossed back her long hair. "Matt, I have a question."

"Shoot."

Wait. She was a farm girl. Maybe she'll take me seriously.

"I am thinking of writing more male-male stuff. I have in mind a scene of pleasure and pain, emphasis on the pain. Tell me, if someone were to bite down on your nut sac, would it hurt?"

"Of course it would hurt."

"Oh. But would it turn you on?"

"No." He felt a movement beside him, knew it was Thomas. And his whole body lit up like a Christmas tree at the mere sight of him. Thomas put his hand on the small of his back. It was a small, warm gesture and it weakened his anger.

"Thomas." His voice croaked.

"Yes, baby?"

Baby? He saw Jessie Jansen's eyes jump like foxes.

"Jessie was just asking me about some S and M. She asked me if it would hurt if a man bit my nut sac."

Thomas stood close to him, not quite touching him. "She asked me the same thing."

"What did you tell her?"

He shrugged. "That I'm not into pain. What did you tell her?"

"Same thing."

"I'm not into inflicting it either. At least, not intentionally."

"Jesus you two, did it just get hot in here?" Sandra gave them an exasperated look, grabbed Jessie's arm and hauled her away.

"It did just get hot in here, didn't it?" Thomas was grinning at him now.

"Yeah, and it's about to get hotter." Matt grabbed Thomas's arm without even thinking and pushed past the cute hotel staffers serving trays of cocktails. Through a curtained off area, Matt pulled Thomas with him, aware the man was saying something but not caring. Startled workers looked up from their tasks as they went down a corridor and alone at last, under harsh bright lights a world away from island luxury and comfort from the main part of the hotel, Matt pushed Thomas against the wall.

The two men looked at each other. Matt moved forward and Thomas's face met his in the longest kiss in the history of kissing. Matt stole a look at Thomas as his tongue moved in and out of the other man's mouth and he was touched that his eyes were closed. Thomas groaned and Matt realized he'd taken his tongue away from him. He took Thomas's hard, angular face in his hands and pressed against him. Their cocks were both hard, but the kiss…oh wow…the kiss.

Thomas knew how to kiss, dammit. Matt felt his toes curling in his shoes and his hands went to Thomas's butt.

They broke off the kiss, breathless, heavy-lidded.

"Aloha to you, too," Thomas grinned.

 "There you are, you two." Cole and Ryan were beside them.

"What the hell…can't a man get any privacy around here?" Matt asked, as Thomas, chuckling, dropped his head to Matt's shoulder.

"That's what hotel rooms are for." Ryan was holding his towel in front of him again.

"Everybody's booked up the dolphin swims." Cole grimaced. "Do you know children aren't allowed? Now I don't feel so bad about not having the baby here. So, where do you want to eat?"

 Matt didn't care. God, he wanted to be alone with Thomas. That's what he wanted.

"There's about five restaurants here. They're all supposed to be good." Cole was rifling through a brochure.

"What time do we need to have you back here for the conference?" Matt asked Thomas. He was still pressed against him and he was pleased to see his own lust and crazed frustration mirrored in Thomas's eyes.

"Ah…I don't know." Thomas shook his head. "Damn, baby, when you kiss a man…"

Ryan grinned. "It's a Lucas family trait."

Thomas looked at Matt. "Your last name is really Lucas?"

"Yes, Rosie, it is." He touched Thomas's face. "What time do I need to get you back to this conference?"

"By six…"

"Cool. That gives us three hours. Gentlemen, start your engines, I'm taking you somewhere wonderful."

He took Thomas by the hand and Cole looked wild-eyed with excitement.

"Where are we going?"

"To the House Without a Key."

"Isn't that a book?" Thomas was frowning now, trying to remember. "A Charlie Chan book…"

"And this is the restaurant from the book."

"I need to get changed." Ryan looked helpless. "Please, Cole. Please let me get changed."

"Can he go there like this?" Cole asked.

"It's casual attire, not almost naked."

Thomas grinned. "If he's going upstairs to change, that means I can have a little more…"

"Meet us in the lobby in ten minutes." Cole nudged Matt who was staring into Thomas's eyes. "Can you hear me in there?"

"Yeah. Lobby."

"Ten minutes." This was from Thomas.

 "Now get out of here." Matt was on fire. So apparently was Thomas. They heard Cole and Ryan leaving.

"You want more kisses?" Matt asked him, a quarter inch from his face.

"No. I want what's in your pants. And I want it right now."

Matt took Thomas's hand again. "Service elevator do you?" God, how exciting. He pressed some buttons and when it arrived, the two men scrambled in, Matt pressing every button he could as he fumbled with Thomas's pants.

"I knew you'd have a nice, big cock," Thomas's sigh startled a worker with a trolley loaded with desserts as the elevator door mercifully closed.

Matt and Thomas felt the elevator jolt to a stop.

"I don't know how long we have."

"This is a mercy fuck. Medicinal purposes. I'm not letting you out of my sight until I get some man on man action on that beach you keep writing about." Thomas's hands were on Matt's ass. They threw off their pants and once again, Matt pressed Thomas against the wall, this time, there was nothing separating them. It was skin on skin.

Thomas's face flushed and Matt held him close. "Are you writing this in your mind?"

"Yeah…"

"Okay. You get this scene. I get the next one."

"There's going to be a next one?"

"Isn't there?"

Thomas responded with a kiss. Matt pushed him to the elevator floor and tongued him from his belly button down to his cock, which twitched and throbbed under his touch. He kissed the cock head tenderly, already in love with it.

"Very sweet cock, Thomas." He parted the other man's thighs. "You saw Pillow Talk, in my mind this is what Rock did to Doris right after the closing credits." He threw off Thomas's shoes and glancing at him, kissed the tops of his feet, then began kissing the instep of each foot. Thomas was squirming underneath him as Matt picked up his legs, upending him and planting his hot, seeking tongue and lips right on Thomas's ass hole.

He licked and sucked until Thomas panted, "I have a hard time picturing Rock doing this to Doris."

"Can you picture him fucking her?"

"I can picture you fucking me. Please…Matt. We don't have much time."

"Impatient, aren't we?"

"You're driving me crazy. I need it now, Matt."

And he got it. Matt felt sublime and terrified all at the same time. He'd dreamed it would be this way whenever he thought about Rose. He always saw her as a man. And what a man he was. He held Thomas's cock in his rapidly moving hand, the two men exploding together in a hot, wildfire of an orgasm and Matt lay on him, panting.

"Welcome to Honolulu, baby." He kissed Thomas's ear. "Not bad for the first time."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

They were rescued by an amused looking fire department official who noticed that Thomas and Matt had each put on one wrong shoe.

"We're the same shoe size?" Matt was beyond smitten. He wanted the public portion of the evening over with so he could put Thomas into bed with him, where he belonged.

"You are going to spend the night with me, aren't you?" he asked Thomas.

"Oh, I don't know…unearthly rapture with you or sleeping in a single beside our snoring female publisher? Tough call, Matt."

Matt grinned. "This influence you any?" He leaned forward and Thomas stepped back.

"If you kiss me again, we're in big trouble."

Matt tried not to feel hurt. He was having an awful lot of trouble keeping his hands and mouth off Thomas. He had to get a hold of himself.

They found Cole and Ryan working on cocktails in the lobby.

"You look disheveled. I love it. What have you been doing?"

"Each other," Thomas grinned. "In the service elevator."

"How romantic!" Cole beamed. "Is this going to wind up in one of your books?"

"Matt said I could use it, but it's too hot even for my books."

"I'd like to baptize the service elevator." Ryan glanced at Cole.

Matt laughed. "It's all yours, right after dinner."

"Did you have fun?" Cole asked.

Fun? It was a lot of things…intense, exciting, cathartic. Not…fun. He was anxious to hold Thomas's hand, but was afraid of coming on too strong. Too strong? He'd just flogged the guy four ways from Sunday in a service elevator. He glanced at Thomas who was watching him.

"More than fun…" Thomas whispered.

"Let's go get our drink on." Matt touched Thomas's back, grateful for the brief contact. He was head over heels. Or ass over tit. Any way you cut it, he was hopelessly in love.

 

Thomas was looking out at the ocean. "So, this is Black Point? It's beautiful."

Matt grinned as Thomas leaned into him. "Can I let you order?" Matt brushed his nose against Thomas's cheek. "Yes. Trust me, I won't steer you wrong.

Cole and Ryan were on their cell phone with the baby.

"Are they really going to let us have the house tonight?" Thomas whispered to Matt, his hand sneaking onto Matt's lap. Matt almost jumped for joy.

"Absolutely. Right after your big presentation, I'm whisking you away. We'll get your stuff out of your room…"

"Can two writers make it, do you think?" Thomas asked him.

"Well, I don't think I'd want it with a lot of the people I saw today…"

"Did you see some of those people? How about the guy walking around with a stuffed dinosaur, insisting that people call it Abraham?"

Matt laughed. "Did you kiss it?"

"I did. I prefer kissing you."

Matt laughed again and the waiter showed up just as Cole and Ryan blew their last kiss to their baby daughter.

"Four Mai Tais, please." Cole grinned at the waiter. "I read the reviews. Your Mai Tais are the best on the island."

"They are," agreed Matt.

"You want to order the food?" Cole asked him. Matt took control, ordering ginger and sake poached shrimp, herb crusted scallops, coconut shrimp, sashimi, seafood egg rolls and lemongrass skewers of chicken.

"And what are you all having?" he joked.

"You." Thomas had his hand on Matt's thigh again.

The two men felt the heat wave between them, it was more than conspicuous. Cole and Ryan obviously liked Thomas. Matt was relieved their conversation flowed and was filled with good humor. The Mai Tais were perfect and as the sun lost a little of its brightness, a hula show began that hushed the crowd.

Kanoe Miller, a former Miss America, danced beautifully against the dramatic backdrop of swaying palms, uninterrupted ocean swells and a trade wind that carried them all to a different time and place as the musicians played their song with energy and grace.

"Wow," Thomas seemed awed as she finished her first number. "I don't think I ever want to go home."

"We'll come back often." Matt said the words before he could stop them. He stole a glance at Thomas's face however and saw nothing but pleasure.

"I'm buying dinner," Cole insisted. "Early honeymoon present."

Matt reached for Thomas's fingers on his thigh and did not want to let go.

 

The hotel was a zoo when the four men made it back. Everybody wanted to meet Rose Carter and Matt felt protective of Thomas as they made their way into a banquet room that had been turned into a temple at the holy shrine of the best-selling gay erotic fiction author. He kept his hand at Thomas's back, Ryan on his other side.

"They make me nervous." Cole was looking around.

"Me, too." Thomas swallowed.

Sandra came over and took Thomas away from them, saw the bleak look on Matt's face and smiled. "I'll take good care of him, I promise."

"You better." There were so many people jammed into the room it almost made Matt dizzy.

"I want him with me." Thomas reached out to him.

"Don't be silly. Look, sit in the front row." Sandy pointed to some roped off seats.

Matt, Cole and Ryan took their places and Thomas looked suddenly petrified as he mounted the stairs to the dais on the stage.

Sandy introduced him as Rose, announced the movie deal and once Thomas started answering questions, he seemed to relax.

"Why the subterfuge?" somebody asked. "Why pretend to be a woman?"

"It was a character. A persona." Thomas shrugged.

He fielded the questions easily and Matt relaxed, until he glanced to the side and saw the one person he did not ever want to see again.

Ryan's twinkie chiropractor, Christian.

He nudged his brother who blanched when he saw Christian standing there.

"What the…" Cole was sitting up in his chair now.

"And I'd like to introduce one our hottest young writers, Steve Strong." Sandy held out her hand toward Christian who mounted the stairs. He and Thomas embraced and the three men in the front row stared.

"Steve's my protégé and I'm so glad he could be here tonight," Thomas was saying. "I'm glad we can finally meet."

Cole and Ryan looked at Matt. He caught Thomas's brief, troubled look as Cole hissed. "Did you know about this?"

"No, I did not." Matt felt his world crumbling and Ryan reached cross Matt to take Cole's hand.

"Come on, babe, let's go."

"I'm sorry," Matt whispered. Cole and Ryan just left. He glanced back to the stage and Thomas was being escorted away for photos. It was a long night for Matt, who didn't see Thomas for over an hour. He tried navigating the sea of people in and out of the hotel and finally bumped into him outside on one of the lanais.

"Is everything okay?" Thomas asked him.

Matt smiled. "You were fantastic."

"Thanks. I'm sorry I've been busy."

"No problem. You having fun?"

"Yeah. Look, Steve Strong…well, his real name is Christian. We've started writing a series together. Sandy wants us to have supper with her. Can we take a rain check on hanging out together?"

Matt just stared at him. "Of course. Work comes first." He felt like somebody had just run him through with a sword.

"You sure?"

"Thomas." Sandy was behind him and Matt turned away so he wouldn't have to watch the man he loved walk away with the man who'd already done enough damage to his family. He couldn't quite believe it was happening. How did he not know about this new series? How could he not have heard of Steve Strong? He knew the guy had something…some kind of strange magic to make a level-headed guy like Ryan fall for him. And now he was having supper with…Thomas.

He made his way back to the hotel room and saw Cole and Ryan walking toward him.

"What's going on? We just saw Thomas and that pipsqueak Christian all over him." Ryan glanced at him. "Are you okay?"

He quickly told them everything.

"Wow. He's a double home wrecker." Ryan looked at him. "I'm sorry, Matt. Honest." He looked devastated.

"Better Thomas than you."

The words hung between them. Matt didn't mind being road kill. Better him than Cole. No…that wasn't true. But Cole and Ryan had a life together. A family.

"Thomas doesn't love him. They just write together." Cole hugged him.

"What do you want to do?" Ryan asked him.

"Leave this hotel."

"Me, too." Cole looked at Ryan. "Why don't we all go to the house?"

"I'm not gonna cramp your style?" Matt asked.

Cole shook his head. "Don't start with me. You want to leave a note for Thomas, tell him where you are?"

"Hell, no."

Cole looked at him. "You might be overreacting just…a little."

"I don't think so."

Ryan stared at him, worried. "You really like this guy, Matt. He really, really likes you."

"Yeah. Right." Matt ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry. Let's just get out of here."

They retrieved the car and headed down to the neighborhood of Black Point. At night, it was even more mysterious and the three men were pleased to find the house was not only beautiful, but poised right on the edge of the ocean.

They followed the instructions emailed to them by the realtor and none of them could find a lock box that contained the front door key.

"Well." Matt ran his hand through his hair. "We had dinner at the House Without a Key. Now we get to stay in one."

Ryan snorted. "I'm not giving up…hey, is this what we're looking for?"

"My hero." Cole gave him a kiss. "Now, let's see if these numbers work." The ancient, salt-encrusted lock box was stubborn and refused to yield the key inside it, challenging their desire to cross the threshold. But cross it they did and once inside, they all breathed appreciative sighs.

"Cole, baby, you outdid yourself." Ryan threw his arms around him and they kissed. "This house is spectacular."

They went from room to room, dazzled by the many homey touches in the splendor of the beach house that must have cost millions. A sunken lava tub on the back lanai off the master bedroom was the only thing Matt coveted. As Cole and Ryan dropped their bags in it, he checked out his own digs. His room was also huge, with its own, ocean-front lanai, a huge table he quickly pushed to the large windows so he could look out over the ocean as he typed.

He plugged his laptop in to charge it up, not allowing his thoughts to touch on the image he'd had of sharing this space with Thomas. He had a huge bathroom with a massive tub that had jets and a whirlpool feature. Dang. They could have had fun with that. There was a walk in dressing room with mirrors everywhere. Oh, that would have been fun. He switched off the lights. He didn't want to see himself standing there alone. He would do what he always did when life handed him romantic lemons. He'd spice it up, kick it up and otherwise completely reinvent it. His loss was his readers' gain.

In the kitchen, Cole and Ryan were rifling through the welcome basket, filled with so many wonderful things, they didn't know where to start.

"I'll choose, shall I?" Ryan ripped open a box of chocolate and toffee covered macadamias. There were even mini bottles of chocolate flavored liqueurs, pure Kona coffee, cookies, fruit, nuts, pineapple soda and an intriguing array of island crack seed.

"Pickled fruit…wow." Cole read from the label. "Who's up for chocolate on the rocks?"

"Meeee," Matt and Ryan chorused and after a couple of rounds, Matt left the snogging couple to their own devices and returned to his room.

He stood on the lanai for a long time, contemplating the silver-black ocean. He could feel his characters Samuel and Bertrand standing on the rocks below him, waiting for him to tell them what to do. Normally they told him what to do.

Moving to the computer, he fired it up, bypassing his emails and went straight to his story file. He'd left his happy couple deciding how to tell their respective partners it was over.

 

Bertrand stared at Samuel.

 

And then what? Matt typed. Rose. Delete. Thomas. Fuck! Delete. He sat back and for the longest time, stared out into the night. His muse blew him a raspberry.

 

Matt awoke early and slipping on running shoes and shorts, and went down to the water. Black Point did not have a sandy beach, but patches of it. When he ran out of sand, he'd climb over rocks and back to the sand. He did this for a mile and a half until he heard a voice calling him. He turned and found Ryan trying to catch up with him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. How was your night?"

Ryan grinned. "It was as much as I could do to leave that man in bed and come out here."

"Then why did you? For God's sake, Ryan…go grab him. He's…he's--"

"My angel." Ryan nodded, his eyes moistening. "I was worried about you. You're my brother. My twin. When you break, I break. You can't even write, can you?"

Matt didn't respond.

"Don't do this to yourself. You and I…oh God, we're so different. You wear your heart on your sleeve. I refuse to wear sleeves."

Matt grinned. "So you found your sleeves?"

"Yeah. I think you found yours, too." He nodded over Matt's shoulder and he thought his heart would just rip its way out of his chest. It was Thomas. He stood on the very rocks where Bertrand seduced Samuel.

"Come on." Ryan touched his arm and they walked back to where Cole and Thomas were waiting. Cole came toward him first, put his arms around him, kissed his cheek and whispered, "Just love him."

Ryan took Cole's hand and they walked back to the house.

"Hey." Thomas looked awkward and embarrassed.

"Hey." Matt smiled at him.

"So this is the place you wanted to show me?"

"What? Oh…yeah."

"Isn't there supposed to be a green flash?"

"Sunset. Yeah."

"Want to take a walk with me?" Thomas asked.

Matt couldn't handle walking along the beach with Thomas. "I could use some coffee. Would you like a cup?"

Thomas hesitated. "Okay," he said finally.

They walked toward the house.

"I didn't know about the…family dynamic. I didn't know Christian was a problem."

Matt nodded. "How could you know?"

"But still, you're angry with me."

"I'm jealous."

Thomas looked surprised. "Jealous?"

"He gets to write with you. I wish I was the one writing with you."

"You never asked. He approached me. If…if you don't want me to work with him, be honest."

"I don't want you to work with him." Matt shrugged. "But I have no right to tell you what to do."

"You can fuck me and suck me, but you can't ask me not to work with somebody else?"

"They are two separate issues. Unless you're fucking him, Thomas."

"I'm not fucking him. I..I'd be offended at the suggestion except that I just found out last night about Christian and Ryan." A concerned look came over his face. "I'm having a lot of trouble believing Ryan did that."

Matt sighed. "Tell me about it."

They reached the back steps and walked into the house. Coffee was dripping into a glass carafe and Matt poured them each a cup.

"Can I have one of these?" Thomas grinned as he picked up a chocolate spoon covered in sugar from the welcome basket.

"Help yourself." They took their coffee outside.

"I wouldn't be working with him in person. It would all be via internet, I would never have to see him." Thomas looked at him.

Matt didn't say anything. He didn't think he could do this. Feeling what he did for Thomas opened windows on some parts of himself he was not particularly proud of…it was time to leash the jealous, demanding, passionate, loving monster again.

"Come back to me, Matt."

Matt just stared at him.

"Don't run away from me. Things are always…confused in the beginning, or don't you read my books?"

"I read them. I've read all of them." Matt looked out at the horizon, a long, long way from here.

"Then you know two things about me."

"I do?" Matt sipped at his coffee, scalding his tongue.

"Firstly, I always get what I want. You know, Rock Hudson had to resort to extreme measures to get Doris. I'm not above picking you up and carrying you into that bedroom."

"You couldn't pick me up if you tried."

Thomas's face went white. He put his cup down, took Matt's cup away from him, setting it down and squaring his body, he put his shoulder to Matt's belly. Matt was stunned to find himself over Thomas's shoulder.

"Which way is the bedroom?"

"This way." They turned and hit a wall. "No, that way." Matt was laughing now. They found his room at last and Thomas tossed him onto the bed, locking the door behind him.

 Thomas started taking off his clothes. "The other thing you don't appear to know about me is my need…my belief in a happy ending. You haven't given me a happy ending."

He stepped forward, taking Matt's clothes off him as they exchanged hot, fiery kisses.

"I think that was a pretty happy ending in that elevator yesterday." Matt's tongue swabbed at Thomas's mouth.

"That was happy for now. I'm talking about happy ever after. Do you believe in happy ever after, Matt?"

Matt gulped as Thomas's beautiful body moved between his legs and the man started kissing him from the top of his head down.

"I'm…starting to…" he whispered as Thomas came back up to his mouth for another long, wet, oral assault.

"A happy ending can mean many things." Thomas bent to kiss Matt's cock and rubbed it against his own. Their cocks responded to one another like grieving lovers.

"Oh…" Matt groaned as Thomas stroked their cocks together.

"A happy ending can mean Los Angeles or Canada or…wherever you want to live."

"I don't care. I don't care."

"You're just saying that because you want my cock inside you." Thomas kissed him hard. "When you're in full possession of all your faculties again, you'll care."

"Los Angeles six months, Canada six months."

"That sounds reasonable." Thomas moved down his body. "What do you suppose Rock said to Doris when he was just about to fuck her?"

"I…I have no idea." Thomas's fingers and tongue were all over him. His body felt like it had been invaded by fire ants sent to please and deny him in rapid succession.

"You're a writer. Come up with some dialogue."

"Uh…Thomas, you're a writer, too. You come up with some dialogue."

"Well, my love…there's just one small problem. I can't think of anything clever or witty right now. I do know that if I don't get to be inside you soon I might die."

Matt took his face in his hands. "There…that's what he said to her."

Thomas looked down at him. "You think?"

Matt smiled up at him. "But then again, Rock always struck me as a show-don't-tell kinda guy."

"Could be, could be. If we do this Matt, there's just one thing."

Matt's glazed eyes tried to focus on Thomas's words.

"If we do this, we do this. No more running. No more of that. You've got to trust me. You've got to give me a chance."

"I'm giving you more than that. I'm giving you a happy ending."

He pulled Thomas into him, the sounds of Thomas taking him for the first time muffled by squawking birds outside.

"Oh, Matt." Thomas moved inside him and Matt jumped around on the bed, trying to get all of that massive cock inside him.

"Easy, baby, easy. I'm not going anywhere. It's all yours."

Matt felt Thomas working his way into him and his heart swelled at the thought that he was finally getting a love scene in bed.

But this one belonged to him. To him and Thomas. His readers' loss was Matt Lucas's gain.

Many times over, that hot summer day…

 

About the Authors

 

 

A. J. Llewellyn lives in California, but dreams of living in Hawaii. Frequent trips to all the islands, bags of Kona coffee in his fridge and a healthy collection of Hawaiian records keep this writer refueled. A. J. loves male/male erotica, has a passion for all animals (especially the dog, the cat and the turtle). A. J. believes that love is a song best sung out loud.

A. J.'s website is located at:

http://www.ajllewellyn.com

A. J. can be reached at this email: 

AJ@AJLlewellyn.com

Visit his myspace page at:

www.myspace.com/ajllewellyn

 

I write not only for my own pleasure, but for the pleasure of my readers. I can't remember a time in my life when I haven't written and told stories. When I'm not writing, I'm dreaming about writing, doing something wild and adventurous, or trying to make the world a better and more open minded place to live in. I adore beautiful men, and I know I'm not alone in this! Eroticism between consenting adults, in all its many forms is the icing on the cake of life!

D. J.'s website is located at:

http://www.djmanly.com/