Chapter 1
Josiah
Out of all thepeople in all the world to be stuck in the snow with, it had to be him.
Sebastian O’Rourke.
He was a ghost who haunted my dreams in the long lonely nights since we’d met. His dark closely cropped beard and warm brown eyes drew me to him. That husky voice called to me in his luscious Australian accent to do all the filthy things I’d done the night we met, to lose control again. But that was in my dreams, and it wasn’t real.
In reality, he was a royal pain in my ass every second we were in this damn car together. We were stuck in this sudden snowstorm that neither one of us knew how to navigate, and we had no idea if we were even going to make it to his destination in one piece. If I managed to get him to his destination, I wasn’t even going to stop. I would just slow down and push his sexy ass out. And when I got home, I was going to rip our mutual friends a new one for suggesting I be Sebastian’s chauffeur on the highway to hell.
I snorted to myself at how funny it was to be in hell with an ex-priest.
Yep, those guys were in trouble for getting me into this disaster. I couldn’t get the man out of my mind, and being stuck with him like this only made the memory of our time together a few nights ago that much harder to forget. Even if it was the hottest night of my life, even if I had come too many times to count thinking about what it would be like to give up control to him when it was just us, it wasn’t possible, and it could be dangerous. Glancing over to watch Sebastian looking out the window to help me look for our turn, I thought how calm and in control he looked right now. I had to admit I was lying to myself. This trip hadn’t been terrible, well until we’d hit this horrible storm it hadn’t. I wanted to explore whatever this was between us, but I was honest enough to admit I was scared. I was scared it would all go sideways like it had in the past. So even though I wanted this man with every fiber of my being, I had to keep acting like I didn’t. To protect myself, I could never let it happen again.
Could I?
* * *
Three nights ago
“No,absolutely not! Get that thing away from my face.”
Holding the offending object in my hand, I started to raise it once again while trying to explain, but Presley batted it away, popping it up into my face.
“You promised to help. This is my first big paying gig as a bachelor party planner, and this one just happens to be for two guys we know, Pres. Bruce and George are finally getting married. Don’t you want then to be happy?”
“I know Batman and Robin are getting married, and I’m happy for them, but I’m not doing it, Josiah.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the old nickname for our two friends. “Just because his name is Bruce Wayne and George’s last name is Robbins, don’t call them Batman and Robin, Presley. You know they hate that.”
He waved me away and walked over to the buffet table where the caterers were setting out the chafing dishes and fruit trays. He was trying to ignore me, but I wouldn’t let him. “They want to have all the raunchy fun they can, especially since it’s New Year’s Eve. You know I even set up everything for them to go to that sauna tonight with their groomsmen afterward. I’m not asking you to go there and man a glory hole, for Christ’s sake. This is just one of the things they specifically requested from my menu of options. You said you’d help.”
Presley folded his lithe arms over his narrow chest, slid to the side in a perfect hip pop, and gave me one of his perfectly practiced pouts.
“I said I’d help, not participate, Josiah. I’m not doing it. You can’t make me.”
What the hell am I going to do now?
“What do you mean? There’s no difference between them.”
He looked at me like I had started speaking Spanish all of a sudden. I could, but I hadn’t...this time.
“Oh, there’s a distinct difference between the two, honey.”
He fluttered his hands toward the buffet table, then around the venue space we'd just spent hours decorating.
“Helping is making sure the caterers used the cock-shaped pasta for the buffet, fluffing the tablecloths, and making sure you have enough squishy penises for the gift bags.” Presley pointed at the sign in my hand and sneered.
“Participating is something altogether different, and I didn’t sign up for that.”
He was holding his arms tighter now, and I knew he was almost to the point of no return. I had to play the friend card.
I walked over to him and slid my much larger frame behind his, wrapping my arms around him, and rested my chin on his shoulder.
“I understand, I do. You don’t want to do it, but what am I gonna do if my best friend in the entire world doesn’t help me out. You just have to stand there for an hour, and I’ll even pay you for it. You’re perfect. Let them all see how gorgeous you are, and then I won’t have to go bankrupt and live on your sofa eating the spicy food you hate and making all your clothes smell like garlic and curry.”
I felt him tense for a second, then relax.
