Tate couldn’t count how many fantasies he’d had about Donovan over the years. They’d started about the time he hit puberty, and the last one was … well, to be honest, it was last night. In the shower. He’d jacked off to thoughts of Donovan bending him over and…Jesus God. This isn’t happening!Never … not one single time had he evereverimagined Donovan suggesting he measure his penis.
Before he could formulate some sort of response, Donovan moved closer, his smirk turning into a full-fledged grin.
His gravel-laced voice scraped every nerve ending when he said, “You’re fuckin’ adorable. You know that?”
“No man’s ever said that as a compliment before,” Tate admitted, his voice far too hoarse. “Not to me, anyway.”
Donovan touched his face, his big fingers curling around behind his head. “Now one has.”
Their eyes met and held for so long Tate was expecting his alarm to go off at any second, and he would wake up to find the best dream he’d ever had was fading around the edges.
But his alarm didn’t go off.
And it still didn’t.
And then Donovan leaned in and kissed him.
For a moment, Tate was stunned. Too stunned to move. Too stunned to respond.
“If you don’t kiss me back, I’m gonna have a complex,” Donovan whispered against his lips.
Praying he wasn’t going to make an ass of himself—more than he already had—Tate kissed him. Donovan didn’t move this time, but he didn’t let Tate go, either. He urged him closer as his lips parted, allowing Tate to take his time just like he had the last time. Tate noticed how Donovan’s body and his grip hardened the deeper Tate’s tongue went into his mouth until finally, Donovan groaned low in his throat and took over the kiss.
Tate saw stars behind his closed lids as Donovan kissed him with a passion he’d only ever imagined. Tate had kissed plenty of men in his twenty-four years, not to mention two girls back in high school. No one had ever kissed him like Donovan did. As though he was a meal meant to be savored, but he was too hungry to slow down long enough to do so.
The kiss worked to take his mind off where they were and who he was with. Tate let his hands join the party, sliding his fingers through the belt loops on Donovan’s jeans and holding on for dear life.
He wanted this man to devour him whole. He wanted those giant hands to move over every inch of his body. He wanted Donovan to dominate him, to make him feel every ounce of the difference in their sizes. He wanted to feel the velvet smoothness of Donovan’s giant cock against his tongue as he drove it deep into his throat. He wanted this man to boss him around like he was his freaking play toy. He wanted … he wanted …he wanted.
The kiss went nuclear when Donovan jerked him closer, gripping his ass with one big hand and dropping his hips so he could grind his cock against Tate’s. The escalation had Donovan pushing him back, knocking him against the shelf, causing something to fall to the floor. Donovan pulled back first. He was breathing heavily, his eyes hooded. He looked as surprised as Tate felt, and he prayed it wasn’t because he just realized who he was kissing.
“My sister’s gonna kill me for this,” Donovan muttered.
It was the equivalent of having ice water dumped over your head.
Tate stepped back. “Wow. If you can think about your sister at a time like this, clearly I’m not doin’ somethin’ right.”
He’d meant it as a joke, but Donovan didn’t take the bait, and Tate recognized the regret as soon as it flashed on Donovan’s face.
Great.
“We should get back out there,” Donovan said, taking the condoms and putting them back on the shelf.
And just like that, Tate’s night went from bad to incredible and back to bad again.
Story of his life.
Six
Against his better judgment, Brady had allowedhis ex-wife to convince him to go into town despite the fact he told Donovan he had too much work to catch up on and he wouldn’t be going to Walker Park. He knew Donovan didn’t believe him, but at least he didn’t hassle him about it.
Brady couldn’t say the same for Alyssa. According to her, he needed to get out of the house because he was becoming a bigger grump than usual. She blamed it on his inability to have fun, which, as it turned out, was part of the reason their marriage had failed. The other part was because they’d simply fallen out of love with each other.
It happened, he figured. Two people met and got caught up in the whirlwind of life together. A year of enjoying every second in each other’s company, then two more spent doing quick drive-bys in the kitchen on their way out the door. They’d finally stopped one day to reflect on what they’d become and realized, at some point, they had lost that spark.
Needless to say, the divorce was amicable, and they’d become pretty good friends over the past three years since everything fell apart. Alyssa had been there for him when his mother died last year, and though he’d tried to shut everyone out, both Alyssa and Donovan hadn’t allowed him to. He knew that was what good friends did. They kept you together without you even realizing they were doing it.
It wasn’t until Alyssa started dating Henry that Brady realized just how not in love with her he was. He probably should’ve felt an ounce of jealousy or perhaps a hint of remorse since she had once been his, but he felt nothing. He liked Henry, and the three of them had shared a few meals over the past year when Alyssa felt the need to check on Brady. He wasn’t sure how Henry felt about Brady’s friendship with her, but he seemed unfazed. Her happiness was all Henry appeared to care about, and Brady honestly wanted the best for Alyssa, so he hoped they worked out.
