FREEDOM’S SOUVENIR
by
Pia Veleno
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and situation are figments of the author’s overactive imagination, and used strictly in a fictitious sense. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The romance of a tropical vacation, however, is completely factual.
Freedom’s
Souvenir by Pia Veleno.
Copyright 2011 Pia Veleno.
Smashwords
Edition.
All rights reserved.
This ebook may be reproduced and distributed freely, in its entirety, courtesy of the author, Pia Veleno. Apart from any fair dealing under the Copyright Act, no portion of this book may be reproduced or resold without written permission from the author. Please share with your friends, but do not alter this ebook in any way while doing so.
This work contains explicit sexual scenes between two men. Intended for mature adult audiences only. Not intended for anyone under the age of 18.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
This story was originally written for the Hot Summer Days / Don’t Read in the Closet event hosted by the M/M Romance group on GoodReads.com. Please look for multiple volumes of the Don’t Read in the Closet anthology released by this group for many more free gay erotic romance stories.
Chapter One
Nick Boden let his backpack slide off his shoulder as he angled through the congested terminal in Miami International Airport. He found an unoccupied span of not-quite-white wall and leaned against it. He still felt stuck in the middle of a crowd—worse, like a salmon swimming upstream in a flood of tired, cranky, and often pungent travelers. He dropped the backpack between his sneakered feet and scanned the crowd of weary faces. Families towed small children, business men wove past with expert precision, and a handful of couples with joined hands chatted, sometimes animatedly, about their vacation plans.
"See anything good?" The female voice at his right shoulder startled him. He smiled and shook his head, both at her question and her stealth. His sister always could sneak up on him without really trying. Her slender finger reached past to point into the crowd. "How about him?"
"Who?" He glanced at her and then followed her gaze to a guy with white-blond dreadlocks and a guitar case slung over one shoulder. His jeans looked ripped and worn through natural use and old age instead of the fashionably ruined look of designer slumming.
"Really, Maggie?" Nick rolled his eyes and grabbed her wrist, lowering her hand.
"You like musicians."
"I swore off starving artist types."
She giggled. "But you and I both know you can’t resist for long."
Nick turned to face Maggie. "Look here Margaret Walker, I’m not as hopeless as--"
He stopped short when Maggie threw her hands over her ears squeezing her eyes shut and squealed. "La la la la!" She paused and peeked at him through one eye.
"What are we? Four?" He smothered a giggle but his smile escaped.
She lowered her hands and opened her eyes to fix him with an indignant stare. "Six," she said with a stomp of her foot.
At just barely five feet tall, her long, dark hair pulled into low pig tails behind her ears and an exaggerated pout on her heart-shaped face, Maggie could look like a kid. It escaped all but their closest friends that she had two and a half years on Nick.
"I am not a Walker anymore."
"Oh, good. Here I thought I was about to get decked for calling you--" He bit his tongue, choosing not to push his luck. "Did you make it to the restrooms?"
She nodded. "I’m fast. Even if I can’t just whip it out." When Nick grimaced, she laughed and continued as if she’d said nothing crass. "It’s a shame," she said. "I liked the name better than "Boden", but no way do I want a lingering connection to that man."
Nick picked up his backpack. Maggie fell in beside him as he followed the signs for Baggage Claims. "I thought you were going to remain friends with him?" Nick asked. He immediately wondered if he was poking a bear.
"That’s unlikely after he stuck me with my brother for our big special vacation."
Nick paused and hooked a thumb over his shoulder back the way they came. "I can go," he said.
She caught his hand and held it as they continued their journey down the long, wide corridor. "You are not backing out now," she said. "We’re going on this cruise and we’re going to enjoy it."
"Of course we are," Nick mumbled under his breath.
****
Tad Eglington shifted on his toes – left foot, right foot, left foot. He tipped his head trying to get a glimpse between the strips of plastic separating the baggage handlers from the travelers. He could hear them back there, and yet the belt still hadn’t been started. He sighed and lifted the paperback dangling from his hands, his forefinger holding his place. Again. He’d read the same paragraph several times. The story was good but he was eager to get on with his first vacation in three years.
Will, his ex -- good riddance -- wouldn’t have approved of such frivolous spending, and with that thought, Tad settled into a wide-legged stance and grinned. Will had hand-cuffed him for nearly two years. The man had been wild in the sack. He’d been smart and clever and fun, but Tad couldn’t picture his future living under Will’s penny pinching ways. Will would’ve fainted if he saw Tad’s bill for one single week on the cruise ship Freedom, even without the balcony upgrade.
And, the balcony was a must. Tad had little desire to hang around on deck all day with a crowd of strangers. He wanted warm sun and good food. He needed nothing more, except to catch up on several books by his favorite authors. He folded down a corner and flipped the book closed, giving up on page forty-two in favor of reassuring himself once more that vacationing alone didn’t mean he should start seeing a shrink. Granted every one of his friends and extended family thought him crazy for it, but Tad eagerly anticipated the relaxation and lack of responsibility vacationing alone granted.
Tad could hear faint voices in the back. He imagined baggage handlers sitting around playing cards while the entire flight huddled around the quiet conveyor belts, anxiously awaiting their belongings so the true vacation can start. As he tried to peek through the curtain again, a slim blonde woman in a cute red skirt suit touched his arm and smiled up at him.
"Hello, will you be on our shuttle?"
He glanced at her name tag. Sandy, from Freedom Cruises.
"Yes, Sandy."
"Welcome to Miami!" Her smiled brightened. "What’s your name?"
"Theodore Eglington."
She checked his name off of her list. "Okie dokie. And who are you traveling with?"
"No one."
Her pen hovered over the checklist for three seconds before she looked up, a quizzical look on her face. "You’re visiting us alone?"
He resisted the urge to argue with her. He’d had enough of defending his choice among his friends and colleagues. "Yes, I am." He offered his best charming smile and nodded.
Her smile faltered for all of a second before she grinned wider and said, "Okie dokie, Theodore."
"Call me Tad."
"Uh-huh, Tad, you got it." She paused. "Okie dokie then," she said with too much enthusiasm. "We’ll meet the bus outside that door." With her pen, she pointed toward the sliding glass doors on the far side of the crowd.
"Got it."
She looked up at him once more, and he thought she was going to say something else, but instead she pushed a smile across her lips and then looked around for her next check-in victim. She walked away without saying a word. At first offended, Tad shrugged it off and decided he’d prefer she didn’t offer false wishes for a fun-filled vacation. Besides, he didn’t want to hear her chirp "okie dokie" again.
Tad let his gaze wander over the crowd. He sucked in a breath as his gaze landed on a man who blew away the tired old trope "tall, dark, and handsome." Easily matching Tad’s six-foot-two height, the man had wild black hair dusting sharp cheekbones while not quite hiding the roll of his eyes as he stumbled through the crowd. Tad followed his movements and found his leash in the form of a short woman in pigtails and a vibrant smile. Tad sneered at her and then sighed, forcing himself to relax. She was actually his type—when he was in the mood for a woman, and only if she hadn’t been attached to a much better looking specimen. Tad returned his study to Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Nothing wrong with enjoying the view, he decided, even if the man was straight and spoken for. With facial hair in a style Tad usually didn’t like -- a goatee sans mustache -- Handsome needed to shave the foolish anchor-shaped splash of hair on his chin, but at the same time, Tad remembered a beard like that could create a pleasant tickle during oral play. He shifted his weight and his daydreams, willing his groin to remain calm despite the erogenous thoughts.
As Handsome stopped near the front of the crowd, he pulled the woman back, threw an arm around her slender shoulders, and then kissed her temple. The tender gesture ruined Tad’s fantasy. He shook himself from the shattered daydream and scanned the other faces in the crowd. No one caught his fancy, not like the stranger with the tiny girlfriend. She had moved away from him, slinking her way to a spot in front of the belt. She looked like she weighed less than the suitcases most people used for vacations.
If you’re into that, he thought dourly. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he frowned and mentally kicked himself. He had never been one to give into selfish attitudes, even in the privacy of his own mind. He stared at the stranger, wondering what about the man had Tad so damn possessive and jealous.
More than before, Tad wanted to hurry up and get to his room on the ship. He needed to get away from the temptation in raven locks and olive skin. The baggage handlers answered his wish. The belt leapt to action with a wail and a creak. A half-hearted cheer undulated through the crowd and, as one, they pressed forward, inching closer to the still empty, but now moving, conveyor belt. His single large suitcase rolled out second, behind a bright pink hard-sided model decorated with sparkly stickers. He grabbed his plain black luggage and veered through the crowd toward the door Sandy had indicated.
Once the driver stowed his suitcase under the bus, Tad climbed on, hugging his carry-on with confirmation details and wallet to his chest. He slid into the last seat and proceeded to ignore the other passengers while the driver flung bags into the undercarriage compartment with enough force to shake Tad’s seat. He stared out the side window, watching tall palms sway against a nearly cloudless sky. Vacation. Finally. He smiled.
When they arrived at the port, Tad zoned out, letting himself be guided by the flood of people and cheerful cruise employees. By rote, he disembarked from the bus, marked his luggage, and followed the crowd to the long, weaving check-in queue. The press of passengers thinned out briefly on the other side of the long line of windows confirming passengers’ identities and assigning room keys, but within a short two minute walk, Tad caught up with the crowd to stand in another line, this time to board the ship. He craned his head to the side and could barely see the gangway, packed with passengers. So close, and so far at the same time.
As close as he was, with paperwork in hand and the ship in his view, Tad found himself relaxing. He was a few minutes from actually boarding, but he smiled and called it the official start of his vacation. Travelling exhausted him; now he could relax. He dug his book out of his bag and read as he shuffled his feet behind the person ahead of him in line, glancing up only once in a while to check his progress.
Once through the door, the crowd took a few moments to spread out into a large room circling an elegant bar with a black, marble bar top, plush mahogany stools, and scrubbed silver trim on everything. Several small, two-person tables surrounded it, but Tad saw an opening and took it. He fled down a corridor, past an unmanned help desk, and didn’t stop as he passed a group waiting for the big glass elevators to bring them to another level of the ship.
Free of the press of tired, anxious bodies, he slowed and took a deep breath, exhaling with a sigh. As he left everyone else behind, he veered to a switchback staircase and climbed the steps two at a time. He arrived in front of the gift shop, doors closed, but lights in the windows illuminated mannequins wearing white slacks with Hawaiian shirts, and sundresses designed to do little more than cover a swimsuit in the dining room. Through another window, shelves of rum balls, liquor bottles, and assorted candy beckoned, and behind the register, a forgetful traveler could find aspirin, sun screen, and a variety of personal needs such as deodorant, toothpaste, and other sundries at what Tad assumed would be double or triple the price of the local superstore.
He strode past the store and, at the corner, he paused. The bright, colorful lights of the ship’s casino flashed through the room, but no one stood at the machines. They wouldn’t be activated until the ship left port, and while every boat carried the die-hard gamblers, none waited nearby. Tad wove through the machines and, on the far side, found a wall of windows overlooking the sparkling blue water. He paused to take it all in, and then decided he should do so where he could get some fresh air as well. He followed the line of windows to the cafeteria where a half dozen people in uniforms bustled around buffet tables with carts of food, ice, and serving utensils. A few guests had arrived to explore the welcoming smorgasbord, but Tad bypassed the offerings, making a beeline for the glass door brightened by sunshine. He pushed out onto the deck, a light breeze grabbing at his hair and tossing it around his face. He strode out to the end of the deck and glanced along the rail. At the front end, passengers gathered, some pointing at things on shore, while others admired the view of the water and the nearby cruise ships.
Tad turned the other way, walking briskly towards the back of the ship. As he neared, he spotted a number of people gathering on that end too. He veered up a flight of stairs and found a small walkway only wide enough for one row of chairs. Behind the chairs the ship rose further, but no one gathered on that upper level, and the path between chairs and railing hadn’t attracted any vacationers with the odd desire to wave good-bye to Miami. Tad slid his bag under a chair, kicked off his shoes, shrugged out of his shirt, and flopped down with his book. He moved his sunglasses from the top of his head to his face and surrendered to the warm sun and the fictional world of the thriller he’d picked up at the used book store just last week.
****
"This place is great." Maggie trotted ahead and ducked around another corner. Nick couldn’t deny the beauty of the ship, the day, and the glow of his sister as they explored each deck. When he rounded the corner, Maggie stood at a bar smiling up at a bald, but muscular man with fiercely dark skin and shining laughing eyes. She inched her rear onto a seat and glanced over her shoulder. She waved at Nick and patted the stool next to her.
As he approached the bartender greeted him and asked, "Would you like a daiquiri too?" His grin felt like a gentle tease and Nick couldn’t help but smile back. The man was handsome and seemed genuinely friendly. Nick shook his head and glanced over the bottles lined up along the back shelves. "I’ll have a…"
"Rum runner?" offered the bartender. "Bloody Mary?"
"Gin and tonic," Nick said. "Juniper."
The bartender nodded. "Good choice, my man." He mixed up a frozen drink for Maggie, and then served the gin to Nick.
Maggie gave him her room card and then tucked the receipt in her pocket. She sipped her drink, gave the bartender a thumb’s up and then slid off the stool. "Let’s explore more," she said. Without waiting for Nick’s reply, she skirted the edge of the bar, veering toward the next door.
When he caught up with her, Maggie clung to the railing, hanging over the edge, looking down at the water. "It’s beautiful, Nick." She swung up straight and spun around to face him. "I’m so glad we’re finally here."
He nodded, gazing down the deck. Wow, he thought, now there’s a view. Lounging in a deck chair, already stripped down to shorts and sunglasses, a man read from a well-worn paperback. Nick’s artistic mind mapped out the strong, muscular legs, one straight, one bent, with a thigh supporting the book; strong shoulders, and a broad chest with a splash of hair a touch lighter than the ashy brown hair slightly mused on his head; the planes of his abs, curved into the chair, but still clearly defined; and strong facial features that spiked Nick’s testosterone and sent his blood flowing south.
"Hey, Nicky." Maggie punched his arm.
"Yeah," he said turning a frown on her that he couldn’t hold. "I’m listening. It’s beautiful, yes."
"What’s got your attention really?" She stepped to the side to see around him. Her eyes widened slightly and her smile pulled out her dimples. "Oh, I see." She looked up at Nick. "Go talk to him."
"I’m not going to hit on a stranger on a cruise ship. Everyone comes here with someone." He wanted to sketch the man, even if the other things coming to mind wouldn’t be appropriate.
"You’re single," Maggie pointed out. "I’m single."
"We’re freaky anomalies."
"Fine," she said. She took a sip of her drink and then beamed a mischievous smile in Nick’s direction. "Then I’ll go talk to him."
"Wait, Maggie--" He grabbed for her arm, but she shrugged out of his grasp and bounced up to the man Nick had been admiring.
The man sat alone in a deck chair reading a book, and taking no notice of them. His shirt wadded under his feet, and his bare chest already glistening in the afternoon heat, Nick didn’t need to talk to him. He could stand where he was, listen to Maggie chatter about the weather, and wonder why men like that didn’t hang around in Nick’s favorite gay club back home.
As Maggie sat down beside him, the man looked up at her. He stuck a finger between the pages of his book, and wiped his hand over his khaki shorts before shaking her hand. Nick couldn’t hear their words, but knowing his sister, he expected her to say something along the lines of: "Hi, I’m Maggie, and my brother back there was drooling over you. You should have dinner with us, so he can drool in person."
Before she could completely embarrass him, Nick turned his back and headed down the first set of stairs he found. On the deck below, he strolled in the shade until he reached the pool. Several people were already in the water, swimming, floating, or playing. He passed them by and headed to the bar under the next overhang. He ordered a fresh gin and tonic and then slipped inside to enjoy the air conditioning.
Chapter Two
Nick wandered the halls below deck trying to find his stateroom. Distracted by thoughts of facing Maggie’s summary of the sexy guy he’d left her talking to, he walked the wrong direction out of the elevator and didn’t realize it until he reached the end of the long hallway. He glanced up at the number on the door, and then to the one next to it.
"Sonova…" He shoved his hands in his pockets and stormed down the hall, this time in the right direction.
When he found their room, Nick eased the door open, hoping Maggie would be somewhere on deck enjoying the sun.
"Are you still mad at me?" Maggie called from the bathroom.
Nick leaned back against the wall. How she heard him with her hair dryer blasting in her ear, he had no clue. He peeked cautiously through the bathroom door, found her dressed, and then leaned against the door frame. "It depends," he said. "Should I avoid that guy all week?"
She laughed, and over the hair dryer he barely heard it. She shut off the dryer and picked up her flat iron. As she ran it through her hair, she glanced at him in the mirror. "No, Nicky, I’m not that mean. I just went over there and introduced myself. I made small talk for a minute or two, and then he says to me, ‘Don’t get me wrong. You’re cute and all, but I saw your boyfriend in the airport and I don’t get in the middle of things.’"
She set down the iron and turned to face Nick fully. "Get that?" She laughed. "He thought we were a thing." She giggled and shook her head. "I told him you were my brother, and then – get this – he gets all shy and quiet as he asks me your name and what you do and stuff like that."
Nick flushed despite the air conditioning in the room. He bit his lower lip. Maybe it meant what he thought – what Maggie thought – but more likely, the man had been trying to deflect her flirting. "It doesn’t mean anything," Nick said.
She shrugged a shoulder and picked up the iron again. As she ran it through her hair, carefully tugging locks straight along her face, she said, "It doesn’t mean he’s straight either. And by the way, he’s here alone."
He’d been on the verge of leaving her until she said that. "Excuse me?"
"Alone. Single. And, asking about you more than me. Really Nicky, I don’t need a gaydar to pick up on that."
Nick shook his head and turned away, not wanting to reveal the hope he felt. He hadn’t joined her on this trip to find a sexy man to hook-up with. He’d come because she wouldn’t go alone, and he promised his business partner they’d try to take breaks and relax once in a while.
"Fine," she shouted from the bathroom. "Don’t believe me. It’s your loss."
Nick smiled, but said nothing. He swung a suitcase up on to one of the small single beds and flipped its latches.
"Are you going to shower before dinner?" She poked her head out the door.
"Yes, if I can pry you out of the bathroom first."
She threw her brush at him and ducked back through the door. A moment later, she bounced down on the bed with a bottle of moisturizer. "Go shower," she said as she squeezed a dollop on her shin. "And hurry, I’m starving."
"I have a half hour," he teased. She couldn’t make it into the shower in a half hour, let alone finish and dress.
"Go!" She said feigning anger, but her widened eyes and hint of a right dimple gave away the fact that she fought a smile.
****
A tall, slender woman with a British accent led them to their table. She told them that they’d be at the same four-person booth for the duration of their stay and were welcome to walk right in for dinners, but to wait for a hostess for breakfast and lunch where they’d be sat with other guests who arrived at the same time.
Nick slid into one side of the booth, expecting Maggie to take the other side. When she dropped down beside him, he gave her a little shove. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Someone else will sit on that side," she said. "Probably a cute couple that we can hang out with."
"Oh joy," Nick said with a moan.
"Stop it." She pushed him and he slid over giving her some space. "You’ll have fun, if you let yourself have fun."
"Okay, okay. Don’t nag me, mom." He gave in to the smile she inspired. "Just promise me one thing."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What?"
"Don’t call me Nicky in front of them."
"But that’s your name."
"Okay, Margaret."
She gasped and leaned back as if he slapped her.
"Deal?" he asked with a smirk.
She nodded, and then her smile returned, but she wasn’t looking at Nick. Maggie stood as the hostess stopped at their table with another menu, and another diner. "Oh my goodness, this is wonderful," Maggie said.
Nick’s jaw dropped, as Maggie gushed something about coincidences and fate. He stood, his first reaction to flee, but Maggie caught his arm and dragged him forward, face to face with the man he’d been checking out on the deck – the man she’d said God knows what to when she thought Nick was being a chicken shit about talking to him himself.
Dressed in navy blue twill pants, polished shoes, and a perfectly pressed cream-colored button down shirt, he looked even more attractive fully clothed than on deck. No, Nick corrected his thoughts, as attractive. He was dying to slowly peel the man out of those clothes and trace every inch of his flesh with his tongue. He snapped his mouth shut forcing himself not to drool as he examined the freshly shaven face with a strong jaw, amber eyes, and neatly trimmed hair with three shades of brown teasing Nick to mess it up by tangling his fingers in those locks to pull the man into a rough, heated kiss.
"This is my brother, Nick." She squeezed Nick’s arm, breaking him out of his stare. "Nick," she paused and glanced up at him. "This is Tad."
"Tad?"
Tad offered his hand. "Nice to meet you." His gaze was direct, curious, and hungry. Nick took his hand and the shake was warm and strong. He wanted to know those hands on his body more than he wanted supper, but he managed to control himself if only to prevent giving Maggie any ammo to tease him with later.
****
"Nice to meet you too," Nick said. Tad caught the way Nick’s dark eyes drifted down his body. He suspected, by the look the man gave him, he’d been too eager in his questions to Maggie about her brother. Or maybe, just enough.
"Shall we?" He pulled his hand away and waved it toward the table. Nick dove into the booth and slide in. Tad eyed the bench beside the man, but sat in the booth that had been empty when the hostess led him to the table. When he sat, Maggie looked momentarily disappointed, and that was his intent. If she’d guessed his interest in her brother, then he’d said too much. Later, he would tempt Nick away from her, so he could let the man know just how uncomfortable his pants had become with no more than a handshake and a smile. The thought brought his own smile back to his face, and he still wore the same happy grin when a waitress with a thick Jamaican accent stopped by the table to take their drink orders.
"Share a bottle of wine?" Tad offered.
"Sure," Maggie said.
Nick shrugged. "You choose."
Once they ordered, Maggie turned to face her brother and said, "So, Nicky, Tad here is vacationing alone."
Nick tried to keep a straight face. Between wanting to roll his eyes at her blunt match-making campaign and sheer embarrassment at whatever she’d already done outside of his earshot, he would rather sit with a bickering couple having the worst trip of their lives. On the other hand, if she called him Nicky again, he’d have reason to kick her under the table.
"I wonder if they have another single to sit with us," she mused.
Desperate to change the subject, or at least wrestle control away from Maggie, Nick looked up and met Tad’s stare. He couldn’t tell if the man was truly interested as that jolt of desire in their handshake had indicated, or if he was merely amused by Maggie’s bubbly cheer and optimism.
"Where are you from, Tad?" Nick asked.
"New Hampshire."
"No way!" Maggie clapped her hands together. "So are we."
The wine steward arrived with Tad’s selection. Nick took the moment of distraction to study Tad as the steward offered him a view of the label, and then opened the bottle.
Nick couldn’t resist Maggie’s enthusiasm at learning Tad lived near them. He relaxed as his gaze roamed the alluring planes of Tad’s face. He wanted to see more: the broad shoulders promising hard muscle and sleek flesh, the strong legs and round ass set off by what had to be custom tailored pants, and between those—
Maggie slugged him, breaking him out of his fantasy, and tearing his gaze away from Tad. "What?" He gave her a wide-eyed expression of exasperation, but she wasn’t buying it.
"You were zoning out."
"Says who?"
"Me. And I don’t want to know what you were thinking."
"I was thinking how weird it is to be seated with the one person on the whole ship that lives in the same state."
"Riiiiiight." She rolled her eyes. "What do you want for dinner?"
Distracted by Tad, Nick had forgotten their purpose for sitting in the dining room. He hadn’t registered the wine steward leaving and the waitress arriving. He cursed mentally; he hadn’t had it this bad for a guy since his first days fumbling with cute boys behind the high school. He glanced down the menu, suddenly grateful there were only a couple of choices each for appetizers, salads, soups, and entrees. He rattled off his spur-of-the-moment selections, and then handed the menu to the waitress.
Nick glanced at Tad who wore an amused smirk. "Where in New Hampshire?" Nick asked. He did his best not to stare at the man’s lips as Tad raised his glass and sipped his wine before answering.
"Manchester."
Nick’s smile returned. Maggie jumped in before he could speak. She said, "That’s so close. We’re in Nashua." She squeezed Nick’s arm apparently forgetting she had just been mad enough to punch him. "Nicky here has a business right in Merrimack. He’s the family artist. Got all the creativity and left me barren and logical."
"That is not the word I’d use," Nick muttered a little too loudly. He lifted his glass and sniffed the rich red wine. He knew nothing about wine, but it smelled nice. He took a tentative sip. He barely resisted humming with approval. Whatever Tad picked out had to be much more expensive than the ten dollar bottles of Chianti he and Maggie would share when they crashed in the living room for movie night.
"What word?" Maggie asked. "Barren?"
"Logical." In for a penny, he thought.
Tad’s laughter was worth the second – harder – punch in the shoulder. Maggie looked small and delicate, but she knew how to put power behind her fist. Nick rubbed his shoulder and mock glared at her, but Tad’s mirth beat away his sister’s feisty need for physical retribution.
"So, Tad?" Nick could feel his body relaxing. Muscles released tension fiber by fiber and the smile inspired by a sexy dinner companion, remained of its own accord. "What do you do in Manchester?"
"Not much," he said. "I work in Concord, live in Manchester, and play anywhere else."
"What kind of play?" Maggie recovered too quickly for Nick’s tastes.
Tad laughed her off with a gentle chuckle. "Tell me about your art," he said, his stare fixed on Nick again, and Maggie all but nonexistent.
Nick looked away, shy under the scrutiny of his life instead of his body. "A little painting, a little sculpting."
"His own business," Maggie added.
"Oh? Tell me more." Tad glanced to Maggie, but his gaze drifted back to Nick. "An art business… gallery perhaps?"
"A school." Maggie said it with the same pride she’d use if she started and ran the business herself.
"Not exactly. We offer classes, but it’s not an official college or anything. Just a place for hobbyists to learn and practice."
Tad snorted, and Nick frowned at the derision in his expression. "Just is a dirty word. There’s no just about it. You own your own business doing something you’re passionate about." He cocked his chin lower and fixed Nick with a questioning look. "I assume you’re passionate about it since you started a business around it."
Nick nodded, and then forced a light laugh. "Yeah, you could say that. My partner had to practically throw me out to get me to go on this trip."
"Partner?"
Nick blinked, the one word question had been asked with more contempt than the mini-lecture over the word "just". "Yeah, my business partner: Jason. He’s the organized numbers guy and I create the fun to get the customers to show up."
Tad relaxed and smiled. He lifted his wine glass and gave Nick a nod. "Congratulations. It’s a dream few chase."
They chatted with easy comfort through appetizers and dinner, and another bottle of wine which Maggie insisted on buying, but refused to pick out. Tad talked about his job as a public defender for Merrimack county but when Maggie tried to corner him on his personal life, much to her dismay, he artfully changed the subject from former lovers to Nick and his business. When the waitress arrived with the dessert platter, Maggie’s eyes went wide, but she politely demurred, explaining she had a full week to make herself fat.
Nick narrowed his eyes at her, suspecting ulterior motives. He wanted to both thank her and tell her not to go when, as soon as the waitress left to get the men their coffee and desserts, she stood to leave.
"Stay, Mags, have some coffee," Nick said.
"It’s been a long day. I never took that nap I wanted when we set sail."
"There are no sails on this ship." Nick winked at her. If he suspected she wanted to stay he’d have pushed harder, but they both knew what she was up to and, Nick suspected, Tad probably did too.
She leaned into the booth to kiss Nick’s cheek. As she stood, she said, "I need a head start so I can fall asleep before you start snoring."
"I don’t snore," he quipped.
"You’ve never had to hear it."
"Exactly. I’ve never heard it. I think you’re fibbing."
She rolled her eyes and then turned to Tad. "Nice to meet you. If I don’t see you before, I’m sure we’ll chat again over supper tomorrow."
"I’m looking forward to it," Tad said with a polite nod and a friendly smile.
Once she left and Tad faced Nick again, Nick felt a loss of words. He was positive Tad was interested in him for more than the dinner talk, but he couldn’t think of a smooth way to broach the subject. He licked his lips, and Tad’s gaze followed. Definitely interested, but they hadn’t flirted much all night. They’d exchanged looks, or a brush of fingers when sharing fried appetizers. Plus warmth that flooded his body every time their eyes met. Nick wondered if Tad preferred to be pursued, playing a subtle game of hard to get. Hard being the key word.
"So why did you come on this cruise?" Nick kicked himself for chickening out on being blunt. When he jumped right to the point, he preferred to do it with a friendly grope, or a tongue-tangling kiss.
"You mean, why am I here alone?"
Nick shrugged and scanned the room. Several tables near them had already cleared out. Not quite privacy, but less chance of someone getting offended and obnoxious if he flirted with Tad.
"I mean," Nick said. "I got dragged onto this boat by my sister, but you came of your own free will. I’m curious why. Why not a cabin in the mountains? Or…" He shrugged and offered a short, barked laugh. "I don’t know. I wouldn’t have thought of a cruise first. And, yeah, okay, I’m curious what a good-looking guy is doing vacationing without a partner." There, bait. Partner, not wife, or girlfriend. Nick held his breath waiting for the answer.
"What would you choose?"
Nick blinked, stunned by the question.
"See? It’s not so easy, is it?"
"No, actually, I’d go to the mountains," Nick said. "I was trying to figure out if you always avoid questions by answering them with more questions or if it’s unintentional."
Tad stared until Nick second guessed his words, wishing he could take them back.
"I’ve never been to the Caribbean," Tad said. "I heard it was beautiful. So far, I’m not disappointed." His voice dropped lower with the last sentence, the rich tone wrapping around Nick’s spine. Anticipation shivered through his body.
Coffee and desserts arrived. Both men dug into slices of cheesecake heaped with fresh strawberries and hand-whipped cream. Once they’d finished and moved on to sipping coffee, Nick pushed his plate aside and said, "I still prefer the mountains, but since Maggie had already paid for the tickets, she wouldn’t let me say no."
"What happened with that?"
"She caught her ex in bed with the neighborhood cougar the same afternoon she put the deposit down on the reservation. She kicked him out, but didn’t want to lose the money or the chance at a dream vacation. She charged the rest on his credit card and never looked back."
"Tough girl."
"Very."
"Deceptively so. She seems so sweet." Tad smiled as Nick sized up the accusation.
"She is. I adore her. She’s tough as nails when she needs to be and unfailingly optimistic and happy all the rest of the time. It’s exhausting, but she makes it look easy."
Tad laughed. "She sure does."
Their eyes locked across the table. The waitress came back, but Tad waved her away. "Let’s go," Nick whispered, afraid to break the spell that draped over the table like a veil.
"Yes," Tad whispered back.
As they walked side by side out of the restaurant, Nick asked, "Tad? What’s that short for?"
"Theodore."
"Why not Ted or Teddy?"
"Ted is my father. I was Tad, as in tadpole, just this little kid all of my childhood, and I never much liked the sounds of Ted or Theodore, so I let it slip through the years."
"I like Teddy."
"I’m not going to be your toy bear."
Nick glanced up, but Tad was still smiling. "Are you a bear?" Nick asked with a seductive purr to his voice.
"Not really. You weren’t there with your sister this afternoon?" Tad slowed and faced Nick as they stopped walking. They’d wandered into the corridor circling the casino. The machines clattered and rang, singing out songs of temptation and coin while gamblers wandered from table to table and slot to slot with dollar signs in their eyes.
With a groan, Nick turned to face the window. No, that chest was definitely not furry, and now he had bare flesh crowding conversation out of his thoughts. The sun had set while they ate, and the view was black sky across black water, with only the faintest hints of stars overpowered by the reflection of casino lights on the glass.
"I was for a moment, but when she decided to talk you up, I disappeared quickly. She has this thing for being helpful, but really just embarrassing me."
"She did fine." Tad drew closer. "At first I was convinced she was hitting on me, but then she kept saying: My brother this, and my brother that." He lowered his voice and said, "How she decided I was gay I have to wonder."
"That might’ve been inspired by the way I was checking you out," Nick admitted. He cheered silently inside at Tad’s playful, flirting tone.
The moment froze, gazes locked and the noises from the other guests faded into the distance like a retreating thunderstorm. Nick tilted his head down, feeling out the chances for a kiss, but before he could make his move Tad turned to face the crowd behind them.
"So," Nick said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to convince his body not to throw Tad into a nearby easy chair and straddle his lap. His brain recognized Tad’s denial, but his body demanded a do over. "Now what?"
"How about my room?" The wicked smile Tad had been flashing at Nick since dinner crept back.
"Sure." He wondered if his agreement came too quickly, but he wanted a taste of Tad, so he had no intention of playing hard to get.
"Do you have any supplies?"
"Fuck."
"Yeah, those supplies."
Nick scowled and looked around. They were still mostly alone. The guests on this level stayed within the false borders of the casino, having no reason to stray past the last line of slots and into the corridor where the two men talked. "I have lube, but no rubbers," Nick said.
"Trusting sort, are you?"
"No, I wasn’t planning on meeting anyone. I figured this thing would be full of couples."
"But the lube?"
Nick blushed, but hoped Tad would think it was just the weather. "I may not have expected to get laid, but I still plan on getting off when I have the room to myself."
"Oh fuck yeah," Tad said in a whispered exhale. "I want to see that."
"I don’t know about that. I don’t even think I want to risk the sisterly inquisition to retrieve the lube. Maybe the gift shop?"
Chapter Three
Nick found condoms in the gift shop, but no lube. He turned around to ask if Tad wanted them anyway, for another day, but the man had wandered off to flip through t-shirts on a corner rack. Nick charged the little box to his room, and then slid up behind Tad with an arm snaking around his waist. Tad jumped at the contact, spinning away.
"Sorry," Nick mumbled. "I thought you saw me coming." Talk about mixed signals, Nick’s inner voice muttered.
"That, I do want to see." Tad’s gaze smoldered like softly glowing coals. Nick could feel the fire he would set already licking through his body.
"I wasn’t sure."
"Seriously? You’re hot. I thought I’d start drooling when Maggie introduced us."
"I meant…" Nick licked his lips and mentally shrugged, deciding Tad probably didn’t like public displays. "Never mind," he said. "Let’s go."
****
Nick stood in the hallway, staring at a red thong dangling from the door handle. "I may never open that door again." He turned and frowned at Tad when a snicker snuck through the hand covering the man’s mouth. "My sister," Nick said.
"I know." Tad slapped Nick’s shoulder in a friendly manner. "I have one too. I’ll be forever scarred from the night I came home early and caught her on the sofa with her legs splayed around her boyfriend. They were still mostly dressed, but the image still won’t leave my mind."
With a small shudder, Nick sighed, and then stepped closer as Tad guided him back towards the elevators. When Nick bumped up against him, Tad shied away, dropping his arm from Nick’s shoulder. They rode up the elevator in silence. Once they stepped out and turned left down the hall, Nick took a deep breath and refocused his thoughts. "I knew I shouldn’t go back for the lube," he said. He glanced up at Tad who looked ready to burst from suppressing laughter. Nick grinned, the shock at his stateroom door dissipating. "I suppose I should be glad she left a warning."
"Very," Tad said. He slid a keycard into the lock on the door and pushed it open.
Nick followed him in, his gaze on Tad’s ass. The man was hot, and would soon be naked and subject to Nick’s desires. Tad dropped down to sit on a narrow bench. He spread his arms along the backrest in either direction. With Tad out of his line of vision, Nick’s gaze fell on the sliding glass door beyond the full-size bed.
"A balcony?" He grinned and glanced at Tad. "You lucky devil." He walked past Tad, and didn’t give the bed a second look. He pulled open the door and stepped out, taking a deep breath of salty air. "Wow…"
Tad stepped out behind Nick and pressed him to the railing by fitting his hips against Nick’s ass. "It’s beautiful out here," he said, his lips brushing Nick’s ear. "But, I bet I could distract you with a better view."
Twisting his neck, Nick looked back, but Tad wouldn’t let him move his body. Tad’s hands rubbed Nick’s hips and then drifted up his sides, gently exploring. Nick arched his back, pushing his ass against Tad’s hardening crotch. "I bet you could," Nick said.
"Maybe we could make do with shampoo or something." Tad ran his tongue over the slope of Nick’s neck, just under his ear.
"No way," Nick said through a moan. Tad’s lips send warm tingling surges through his entire body. "As much as I want you to fuck me right now, there are other ways to get off."
"Not as fun." Tad tucked his hands under Nick’s shirt, pulling him away from the railing while keeping their bodies firmly nestled together. His fingers brushed taut nipples while his lips continued to tease at Nick’s neck.
"Not true." Nick squirmed away and turned. Pushing Tad back through the door with a stiff arm separating them, Nick said, "I guarantee a mind-blowing orgasm."
"What kind of guarantee could you give? I’m not paying you for this, so no refunds."
Nick laughed. "No money, but I’m not leaving until you’re thoroughly satisfied."
An eyebrow cocked up. "I’m a lawyer. I could lie with a straight face and keep you here all week."
"Either way I win." Nick gave Tad a shove. His legs slammed into the bed and Tad toppled backward, sprawling on the mattress with a wicked grin plastered on his face.
****
"We both do," Tad said, grinning up at Nick. The man had such raw sexuality, and the way his body warmed under Tad’s touch couldn’t be denied. He’d had plenty of the anti-reaction men in his bed, but this one, with just a caress and a kiss had returned the interest tenfold.
Nick pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. "Are you going to undress? Or did I totally miss the cues out there?"
"I’ll get to it." He gestured with his chin and propped himself up on his elbows. "You, on the other hand, should continue."
With a smug but satisfied sound, Nick did as requested, first kicking off his shoes, and then unfastening his belt and fly. Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his boxer briefs, he slung both his underwear and his shorts down his legs in one motion. His cock bobbed, as if nodded in agreement to being clothing free.
Tad whistled. "Very nice," he said.
"Nice? Is that it?" Nick grinned and stepped forward between Tad’s knees.
"Sexy," said Tad, his voice dropping lower. His gaze drank in the strong, lean muscles, and dark skin covering Nick’s body, and culminating in a slender, but by no means undersized cock jutting forward with a slight curve upward towards his belly. Covered in a fine mist of dark hair, Nick wasn’t furry really, but had just enough to look manly without appearing unkempt or bearish. Not that he had the size to be a bear. All of the artists Tad ever met had no muscle tone, and often a beer belly. Not Nick. Nick had abs hinting at washboard if he’d only apply himself a few more minutes each visit to the gym. Sexy, without being self-absorbed. Tad was enchanted.
"You’re turn," Nick said. He reached for Tad’s waistband, but Tad beat him to it. He unfastened his fly, and then reached in to free his cock, letting the plump head out from beneath the cotton of his shorts. He liked the way Nick suddenly froze, his gaze locked on Tad’s hand, and what he stroked with it.
Tad rolled his hips up, fucking his fist slowly, to tempt and tease. When he swiped his thumb over the damp head, spreading pre-cum down his shaft, Nick broke out of his stupor and reached for Tad’s pants. As eager as his Tall, Dark, and Handsome, Tad lifted his hips, still fisting his cock, and let Nick rid him of his shorts, shoes, and boxers.
Shirt forgotten, Tad continued to stroke himself while watching Nick’s every move. The man’s body called to him, but Tad wanted to be played like a fine instrument. He wanted Nick, but he wanted Nick to take what he wanted even more. Nick dropped to his knees and kissed Tad’s thigh, his gaze never leaving Tad’s cock as he fingers worked up and down, tracing veins, and then squeezing the mushroomed tip forcing a groan from his lips.
When Tad’s hand slid down again, Nick leaned forward and closed his lips around the head of Tad’s cock. Tad gasped and nearly forgot what he was doing. When he started his upward stroke, Nick lapped at the damp slit of his cock, and then lowered his head to tongue Tad’s balls.
"Oh fuck," Tad hissed. "You’re not."
"If you tell me you don’t like it," Nick said, his voice muffled between Tad’s thighs.
Choosing silence as his answer, Tad dropped back on the bed, surrendering to Nick’s mouth. Nick’s lips sent shivers from Tad’s balls all the way up his spine with each touch, and when Nick snuck lower, his tongue lashing out to tease that soft patch of skin behind Tad’s balls, Tad decided he’d definitely lie to invoke Nick’s guarantee. If that didn’t work, he had a couple of silk ties in his suitcase just in case he had to dress up for dinner. They had room service for meals, so the ties could be used as restraints instead, because Tad wasn’t going to leave his room again for the rest of the trip. And neither would Nick.
Tad started pumping himself faster. He’d managed three quick strokes before Nick grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away. "What’s your rush?" Nick asked. He rose to his feet, his hands exploring the thick muscles and light downy hair of Tad’s legs. As his touch neared Tad’s crotch, Nick veered off, touching hips, stomach, waist, ribs, and then higher to rub his palms lightly over Tad’s nipples.
Tad sucked in a breath and moved into Nick’s touch. The man knew his body better than he did. Impossible, and yet Nick’s caress felt like that of an old, familiar lover. No, not quite, because the spark was strong and bright, the heat fresh. There was nothing routine about the desire building to a crescendo within Tad’s body. As Nick leaned over him, Tad met his gaze wondering if Nick was as close as he was to maximum sensitivity. The man’s body had responded so well, so clearly, out on the balcony, and truly, throughout the evening to more civilized signals, and now, while in charge, Tad couldn’t tell what the man thought about any of this, other than his willingness to make Tad squirm and moan.
Nick tweaked his nipples with a playful twist, as if he wanted to test Tad’s lines and limits. Tad grabbed his wrists and pulled them apart, throwing Nick off balance. Nick fell, sprawling over Tad with a grunt. Tad released him to wrap his arms around Nick’s waist, his palms pressing up Nick’s spine as he delighted in the weight of the man over him.
"What was that for?" Nick scowled but Tad didn’t believe he offended the man.
"Kiss me."
The frown flipped to a smile instantly, and then Nick tilted his head and pressed their mouths together. Tad ran his tongue along the seam of Nick’s lips, silently begging for entry. Nick acquiesced, opening to Tad with a soft sigh. Despite the flesh to flesh contact from chest to thighs, Tad succumbed to the simple, erotic pleasure of the kiss. Nick tasted like coffee and wine and sweet desserts. His warm mouth welcomed while their tongues tangled together in slow sensual curves and twists.
When Tad needed more, it hit him with the sudden force of a brick through a window. The lazy but pleasant cocoon wrapped around them shattered with intense urgency. Tad rolled with Nick still in his arms. Flipping Nick onto his back, Tad followed, pressing him down on the mattress with the lips an inch apart.
"Damn, Tad," Nick said. He lifted his head and stole another quick kiss. "You have addicting lips."
"I was thinking the same thing about you."
Nick smiled. His hands roved over Tad’s biceps and shoulders, squeezing hard muscles with obvious appreciation painting on his expression. "I was starting to wonder if you were one of those guys who hate kissing."
"Not at all. Why would you think that?" Tad rested his weight on Nick, and the larger man didn’t seem to mind having a human blanket. His touch set Tad’s skin on fire, insisting he crave more and more.
"You ducked me twice on the way here. I’ve been dying to taste those lips since the hostess dropped you at our table." Again, Nick lifted his head to capture Tad’s mouth. He lingered with chaste, gentle kisses while his body undulated beneath Tad, reminding him that they both wanted – no, needed – something much, much more.
"I’m not out," Tad said, and then to avoid any argument about it, he pressed his mouth to Nick’s, tongue probing, and soft, urgent groans slipping from his throat.
When Tad let him breathe again, Nick showed no interest in discussing closet status. He squeezed Tad’s ass and ground their hips together. He panted short, quick gulps of air, and hearing the sounds of Nick’s excitement made Tad realize he too needed release soon. His hips rolled of their own volition, sliding their cocks together with dry, yet enticing friction.
Tad lifted his weight just enough to squeeze a hand between them. He brushed his fingers lightly along the length of Nick’s cock, making the man shiver and buck up against his touch. Nick moaned unintelligible words, but Tad didn’t need to hear them. He understood the intent. More. Good. Both. It didn’t matter because Nick was much more responsive when Tad took over the lead. His handsome man preferred a little submission, and while Tad couldn’t care less who led as long as they both got off, he craved more of Nick’s whimpering moans, surprised gasps, and hungry kisses.
With his mouth covering Nick’s neck and shoulder with nips, licks, and kisses, Tad gave his cock a couple of quick strokes and then spread pre-cum down the shaft to ease their rutting. Nick’s reactions intensified and, for a moment, Tad wasn’t sure the man would let him spread the natural lube enough for a chafing free session, but he managed to finish just as Nick bucked up, lifting his ass off the bed and nearly throwing Tad off of him.
"I can’t get enough of your touch," Nick said with a growl to his voice. He grabbed handfuls of Tad’s ass, pulling him down, grinding their cocks together. "Tad." He paused, gasping after a breath. "God, you got all the right moves."
Tad smiled against Nick’s neck. "Ready to come?" he whispered.
"Oh fuck yeah." Nick emphasized the word fuck with another violent bucking of his hips.
Tad rocked his hips, thrusting fast against the hard plane of Nick’s stomach. He focused on keeping their cocks sliding together while he slowly drowned in the sweet, desperate sounds of Nick drawing closer to the ultimate orgasm.
"Soon." Tad grunted, unsure if it really came out as an understandable word. Nick’s grunt in reply could mean anything, but damn him for pushing Tad to the edge so quickly. "Are you coming?" Tad asked, hoped. "Come with me, Handsome. Come on now."
Digging his fingers into Tad’s ass, Nick arched up and every muscle tensed. He cried out, and it was the sexiest, most satisfied noise Tad had ever heard. As Nick’s cock emptied between them, Tad let go of his control. Sinking into the white heat of climax, Tad came clutching Nick to him, riding the wave of ecstasy in a sweaty heap of flesh, cum, and oxygen deprived gasps.
****
Nick drifted in the warm embrace of afterglow. Tad’s body was heavy and hot, pinning him to the mattress. Nick sighed softly, trailing his fingers up Tad’s back and across his shoulder blades. Tad made a content sound in Nick’s ear, followed by lazy, slow-motion kisses along his neck.
With a hum of agreement, Nick turned his head to face Tad. Tad pressed a warm kiss to his lips and then eased back. "Sorry," he whispered. He flipped onto his back beside Nick.
"About what?"
His head lolled to the side, with a sleepy smile plastered on his face. "I wasn’t too heavy?"
Nick rolled to his side and folded an arm beneath his head. "Not at all. I like the feeling." Tad shifted to face him, and Nick pushed a leg between Tad’s scissoring their feet together. "I could fall asleep like this," Nick said.
Tad glanced up and Nick, fighting droopy eyes, warmed by the affection he saw in the man’s gaze. Tad kissed Nick’s cheek and said, "That sounds good. I need a few minutes to recharge."
"And then?"
"And then." Tad kissed Nick’s lips. "Whatever you want. You were right about feeling great without condoms, so I’ll give you the next suggestion too."
Nick’s gaze wavered, coy despite their willing nudity. "I had to have you," he said. "I couldn’t wait and risk not getting a chance tomorrow."
"Tomorrow is good too," Tad said. Nick liked the sound of that.
Chapter Four
Tad woke sprawled on his stomach with one arm thrown across the empty bed. His face buried in a pillow that smelled like Nick, he hesitated to open his eyes and formally acknowledge the cold sheets meant Nick slipped out while he slept.
He took a deep breath, enjoying the lingering scent of his handsome lover. He rolled onto his back and scratched the flaky, dried cum on his stomach. He stared at the ceiling doing his best to argue with the thoughts battling in his head. He had a great time last night but disappointment sunk his mood. That was a new concept, and he was certain he didn’t like it, nor would it go away. He glanced toward the balcony. Sunlight streamed in, but didn’t quite reach the bed. Even reading alone out there didn’t hold the same appeal as it did yesterday.
The mattress dipped and Tad glanced over. Nick slipped back under the sheets before realizing Tad was watching him. "Oh hi," Nick said. "I’m sorry if I woke you."
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-34 show above.)