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It was Monday evening and everything was right with the world. The glorious sunshine of a fading spring day in California dappled the room through flimsy curtains. Dark-haired beauty Ronan Wagner lay on the bed with his knees open and a dildo in his ass. Nathaniel Lawrence enjoyed the view while he worked him.
Even after two years as fuck buddies, this never got old. Ronan was the best lay Nate had ever had. He could be himself with Ronan and ask for anything he wanted. Ronan was kind of like Nate’s sexual fairy godmother and had willingly explored all Nate’s bedroom kinks.
He had outlasted several of Nate’s relationships and Nate was glad because, honestly, if he met the love of his life tomorrow, he was not sure how he would give up his weekly ritual with the man who blew his head off without fail every time.
He smiled down at his fuck buddy.
Ronan writhed beneath him, chiselled torso gleaming with sweat, looking at Nate from under thick lashes veiling stunning hazel eyes.
Nate slid down his body. Keeping the toy in place, he put his mouth around Ronan’s straining cock, sucking efficiently. Ronan hissed between his teeth, back arching, and Nate’s blood became molten with desire. God, how he needed this. He’d been in a fever pitch of excitement since that weekend. Since meeting Shane Pemberton in a bar downtown, to be exact.
He rolled a condom on, one-handed. Then he slid his hands under Ronan and flipped him over onto his front. Ronan immediately shuffled across the bed until he could see himself in the full-length mirror across the room—another fetish of his. He bent low, presenting his ass to Nate, legs spread, so Nate could see the prize. The wet, neatly waxed little hole that welcomed him once a week, or more if he wanted.
He took Ronan by the hips and thrust, gliding inside. Ronan groaned and backed onto him, impaling himself all the way, shuddering in satisfaction.
"Oh, God, Nate, I’ve been so ready for this. I’ve been jerking off over you all week." Ronan had a filthy mouth and liked to talk dirty during sex. He knew just what pressed Nate’s buttons and how to use his body to drive Nate out of his mind. Nate wasn’t sure he would ever have a better lover than Ronan. It would take someone very special to break this addiction. Like Shane Pemberton, for example.
He sat back and pulled Ronan onto his lap, holding him tight around the torso and mouthing his neck.
* * * *
He was out with Brian, Julian and Rob on Friday night as usual, downing drinks and looking around for ass. Brian and Julian were his buddies from high school. Rob was Julian’s bit on the side.
Brian spotted the guy first. A man standing near the bar, of average height and build and rather pale, his blond hair in an urchin cut so the fringe trailed over his pale, aquamarine eyes, his face so exquisite he could have been an angel fallen from heaven. He looked a little younger than both Brian and Nate, but so what?
Brian cleared his throat and said loudly, "If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen." Then he swaggered off like Clint Eastwood, taking the prize Nate wanted.
Nate tried to look away, but his eyes were drawn unbidden back to the stranger, watching how Brian leaned in close to speak in his ear over the loud music. Listening, the man looked directly at Nate over Brian’s shoulder and smiled at him.
Nate’s heart blossomed with confusion and hope. What a slut—he’s getting picked up by my friend and making eyes at me. But he didn’t care so much, because the hottest guy in the room had noticed him.
Brian and the stranger reached for their cells and both busily typed, their heads bowed close together.
Nate’s heart sank. It was game over. The man evidently liked Brian enough to give him his number, despite the smile he had thrown to Nate like scraps to a dog. Nate put his empty glass down and made his way through the throng of people to the bathroom.
When he came back, the stranger had gone and Brian was wearing the biggest grin on his face ever, proclaiming that this man—Shane Pemberton—was the hottest guy he had ever met.
Nate told him churlishly, "I don’t know, B, what about that guy you fucked last week? He was way hotter and had a better body. That guy looked kind of fat."
Brian was oblivious to the edge in his voice and talked over him, but Rob wasn’t, nudging Nate a little and muttering at him to stop being an asshole.