Overview
Can a man who wants nothing more than to be part of a boring old married couple really find happiness with a man whose relationships have only ever lasted until he zips up his fly?
Craig knows what he's looking for in a lover. He wants someone just like him - a nice guy he can build a nice, simple, uneventful life with. He's hoping that's just the sort of man who will answer his internet ad.
Donovan's nothing like Craig. He's all about leather, fast cars and relationships that last hours rather than years. They may work at neighbouring desks, and Craig may have a crush on his colleague, but that doesn't mean he should forget about the kind of man he's sure will make him happy in the long run.
The only trouble with internet ads is you never know who will answer them...
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780857151568 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Totally Entwined Group |
| Publication date: | 06/07/2010 |
| Series: | G-A-Y , #8 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 46 |
| File size: | 296 KB |
| Age Range: | 18 Years |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
"You realise the guy's never going to recognise you from that ad?"
Craig McKinley ignored the question and frowned at the choice of ties laying on his desk. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. He reached for the blue, hesitated and went back to looking at each strip of fabric in turn.
"I said —" Donovan began again, from the desk to Craig's right.
"I told the truth," Craig said. He wasn't going to worry about the possibility he and his internet date might spend his entire lunch break lurking around the same bar without recognising each other. He wasn't going to worry about any of the other things that could go wrong either.
The tie was the thing to concentrate on. Pick the right tie and everything would be fine — or, at least, he'd feel more appropriately dressed when everything went wrong and it all hit the fan.
"The ad said ... Twenty-six year old gay man seeks same for long term relationship. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Slim build. Average appearance. Own home and car. Secure job."
Craig nodded to each point as the slightly older man recited the ad at him. "Like I said — I told the truth."
Donovan made a sceptical noise in the back of his throat. "Maybe — more or less."
Craig frowned, wondering which part of the advertisement the other man thought he was lying about.
"You're really selling yourself short on the whole average thing, sweetheart."
Craig didn't need to look to the side and see the other man's expression. He'd spent long enough staring at Donovan over the months they'd worked at adjoining desks to know just how the other man's eyes sparkled when he teased.
Heat rushed to Craig's cheeks, despite the fact he knew Donovan flirted with everyone in the building, male and female, in exactly the same way. Craig mentally rolled his eyes at himself. Eight bloody months, and the guy could still get him all hot under the collar with nothing more than a casual compliment.
"But that's not my point," Donovan went on. "He won't recognise you, because he'll assume you were lying. No one tells the truth in that sort of advert."
"The kind of man I'm hoping to meet would."
Donovan let out a long suffering sigh. "If you'd let me take you to a club rather than put some ad on the internet then —"
"I don't like clubs, and I'm not looking for some drunken one night stand." As soon as the words left his mouth, Craig followed them up with a string of silent curses inside his head.
He gave in to temptation and glanced to his right. His colleague appeared more amused than offended. Donovan lounged back in his office chair, denim clad legs sprawled out under his desk as if he was relaxing in a pub rather than sitting in an office.
"The men I'd meet in the clubs around here would be ..." Craig trailed off.
"Men like me?" Donovan's lips twisted into a lopsided little smile. Craig was sure it was that smile that had all the guys in the local gay clubs queuing up to spend a night in Donovan's bed, or to join him in the alley, or ... Craig wasn't sure of the details. He tried to avoid hearing any gossip regarding the other man's sex life.
He didn't need anyone to help him picture Donovan having sex. He was quite capable of doing that on his own — and it was far more fun to do so in private than while standing around the vending machine. Especially since the last thing he wanted was for his colleagues to guess just how much he enjoyed imagining the other man doing a wide variety of interesting, x-rated things.
Donovan leaned even further back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head until they almost touched the work station behind them. Craig's eyes raked down the other man's body, from where his t-shirt pulled tight across his pecs and rucked up to expose his abs, then further down to the low slung waist of his jeans. A light dusting of brown hairs formed a pretty little happy trail that disappeared into his fly.
It wasn't just the smile that made everyone so eager to spend an evening in Donovan's company. Craig snapped his attention back to his ties and his plans for his lunch hour.
"I'm just looking for someone ... someone more like me." Yes, he repeated inside his head. That's what he was looking for. Someone ready to settle down, someone who thought a relationship should be counted out in years rather than hours. He was not looking for a Donovan Stone.
"A nice guy," Donovan suggested. He didn't sound sarcastic, it was more like a simple observation.
Craig made no comment. He doubted Donovan would think his silence odd. After all the hours he'd work at the next desk, Craig still didn't know what to say to Donovan nine times out of ten.
Glancing at his watch, Craig realised he was out of time. A decision had to be made. He picked up the tie with the red stripes.
Donovan reached across and took it out of his hand. "Wear the blue."
Craig glanced up.
"Men with blue eyes should wear blue." Donovan said it like a fact.
Craig nodded and obediently tied the blue fabric carefully around his neck. Standing up, he straightened out the rest of his clothes, just in case they'd somehow managed to travel half way around his body when he wasn't paying attention.
If the guy who answered his ad was some sort of fashion freak, he would probably be appalled by the simple grey suit. Craig took a deep breath. If he was worried about the lack of designer labels then he was no more the sort of guy Craig was looking for than Donovan was. Another deep breath. Everything was going to be fine.
Offering Donovan a slight smile in thanks for his advice, Craig looked both ways just in case their overseer, Peters, was hanging around ready to snag him as he snuck out for his lunch date. The coast was clear. He turned towards the door.
"If he doesn't jump you in the first three minutes, he's an idiot."
Craig glanced over his shoulder.
Donovan stared back at him, that same smile playing around his lips.
Craig shook his head, a slight blush returning to his cheeks. Five minutes later, he stood in the gay bar opposite their office block and tried not to look as nervous as hell.
"Hi, I'm Craig," he whispered under his breath. His fingers twitched as he imagined reaching out and shaking his date's hand. "Hi, I'm Craig." No lines. No games. No fuss. Nice and simple. "Hi, I'm Craig."
A moment later he glanced at his watch. The idea of going back to the office and admitting to Donovan that his date hadn't even shown up made him sick to his stomach. Being thought of as a nice guy was one thing, pathetic was quite another.
"Sorry I'm late. Peters caught me just as I was leaving. I swear the bloke has me on radar."
Craig looked over his shoulder, just in time to see Donovan step forward and join him at the bar.
"I don't understand." Looking past Donovan, Craig scanned the room just in case his date had arrived while he was too busy staring at Donovan to notice.
Then, like an iceberg drifting into a shipping lane, a horrible thought floated into his brain.
Donovan smiled, pleasure dancing in his eyes as he seemed to realise his companion had caught up with current events.
Craig felt the heat rush to his cheeks once more, this time there was no pleasure attached to the response. "Very funny."
He tried to push his way past the larger man. Donovan didn't move. He didn't even sway. He just stood there, exactly where he shouldn't be, taking the place of the man Craig had prayed might take his mind off his colleague.
Craig tried to squirm through the tiny space between the man and the bar before he did something stupid, like confess he'd only ever taken out the ad because his crush on his co-worker was getting out of control. The larger man simply put his hand against his chest and nudged him back against the corner curve of the bar.
"You've had your joke. Very funny. Freaking hysterical! Now let me go," Craig demanded.
"Who's laughing?"
Craig turned his face away from the other man.
Donovan nudged his cheek with his knuckle and made Craig turn his attention back to him. "Who's laughing?" he asked again.
The idea of a man like Donovan and a man like him was exactly that — laughable. Office gossip had made it quite clear what kind of dates Donovan usually enjoyed. They generally involved alcohol and clubs that played the kind of thumping music you could thrust to. They involved leather, and alleyways, and men he never saw again and ...
Not able to think of a single thing he could say out loud, Craig merely did his best to ignore the fact he was trapped against the contour of the bar, with no way to insist on being allowed to leave without causing a scene.
"It's not nice to walk out on your date before you've given him a fair chance."
Craig took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. "We are not on a date."
"I have a very nice e-mail from you that suggests otherwise."
"You said it was a stupid idea," Craig reminded him. "You said I should just go to a club."
"I said you should go to a club with me." Donovan corrected. "I still think you should."
Before Craig could remind him exactly why he didn't like clubs, Donovan reached out and stroked his thumb across Craig's chin, just below his bottom lip.
Craig tried to pull away, but there wasn't far he could go with the edge of the bar pushing into his spine. "What are you doing?"
"Do you remember what I said just before you left the office?" Donovan leant forward and whispered the words in his ear in his ear like an erotic little secret.
Craig stared blankly past the other man. The guy was right there, so far into his personal space he could barely take a breath without rubbing up against the body he'd been fantasising about for months, and now Donovan expected him to be able to think?
"It's been almost three minutes." The older man's lips brushed against his ear as he said it. "I'm a great many things, sweetheart, but I'm not an idiot."
Just in time, a memory clicked into place. If he doesn't jump you in the first three minutes, he's an idiot.
Craig put his hands on Donovan's shoulders. "You can't just ...!" The words came out far louder than he intended. He looked frantically around the room, but no one seemed to be taking the slightest bit of notice of them.
The taller man laughed. "We've known each other for eight months, sweetheart. No one's going to think you're a slut if you kiss on the first date."
"What? Wait! This is a bad idea." Craig wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, he was just sure that the fact needed to be stated very clearly in an exceedingly firm tone of voice.
"Why?" Donovan pulled back just far enough to let their eyes met properly.
"Because ..." Craig looked around them again, as if that should be obvious.
"We're in a gay bar, sweetheart. If anyone finds two men kissing shocking, they're the ones in the wrong place, not us."
Craig nodded at the logic. Then he shook his head again. "That's not the point!"
"Okay, tell me what the point is."
One of Donovan's hands slid past the open edge of Craig's jacket and settled on his waist. The heat of his palm quickly soaked through his shirt as he gently stroked Craig's side through the thin cotton. It made it so damn difficult to think.
"This isn't what I'm looking for." Craig repeated the words like a mantra as he risked a glance up. Donovan appeared politely curious and quite ready to hear the rest of the explanation. Except there wasn't any more explanation in Craig's head.
Donovan's other hand moved to rest on the curve of his neck. His thumb caressed the skin just above his shirt collar, making it tingle.
"I'm looking for someone who wants the same things as me," Craig finally managed to stutter out.
Donovan's smile became slightly more crooked. He rocked his hips a little, making it clear that Craig wasn't the only one who was more than half hard. Apparently, there was part of each of them that wanted exactly the same thing right then.
"I'm not looking for a lunch time lay," Craig snapped. "I'm looking for someone I can get to know. Someone who —"
"I already know you far better than you think," Donovan whispered in his ear.
Craig shook his head, but when the older man said the words in that caressing tone it was hard to care that they were a lie.
"I know that after spending six years damn near addicted to the stuff, you still hate the taste of coffee but you keep drinking it for the caffeine kick. I know you go to every home game of a football team that hasn't won a match since before you were born, because you can't bear the thought of being a fair-weather fan."
Craig tried shaking his head again. Donovan leant forward slightly, pinning him a little more firmly against the hard edge of the bar. The heat from his body wrapped around Craig, making it impossible for him to breathe and impossible to care he might suffocate.
As he dipped his head once more, Donovan's lips teased his ear. Craig frantically tried to keep his brain working, to remember why enjoying being pressed up against the other man that way was a bad thing.
"I know you always bring left over pizza into work for lunch on Thursdays because you order pizza on Wednesday nights, and the delivery man hits on you if you only order enough for one. Hell, sweetheart, I even know your mother's maiden name."
"That's just because it's one of the security questions they ask us at work, and Peters never keeps his voice down and —"
"And because I've been paying attention," Donovan cut in. "I've also been very patient. The fact you like to play things slow and get to know someone before you tumble into bed with them is one thing. It's very sweet, very you. But enough's enough. Time to speed up."
Craig opened his mouth. He was pretty sure he intended to say something. The words dissolved under Donovan's lips. All he managed was a whimper.
The taller man's tongue slipped into his mouth without waiting for an invitation. He kissed with complete confidence, as if he couldn't imagine anyone on the planet not wanting to be kissed by him.
Craig gasped as Donovan leant into his body and rocked his hips. Sliding one hand behind him, the older man drew him forward encouraging him to thrust back against him in return.
When Donovan began to move away, Craig's hands slid up from the larger man's shoulders and tangled in into the thick black strands of hair that tumbled around the other man's head. Helpless to do anything else, Craig tugged Donovan's head back down for another kiss.
For a moment, it was so perfect, so natural. Donovan's mouth played over his, gentle and coaxing one moment, harsh and demanding the next. Craig whimpered into the kiss, vaguely aware he was being played by a virtuoso, but not able to scrape up the embarrassment to blush right then — probably because all his blood had rushed straight to his cock.
Donovan pulled back once more. Craig didn't try to stop him that time. He bowed his head and gasped for breath instead. His head spun so fast, he couldn't make his mind work.
For a few long moments, he stared at the neck of Donovan's t-shirt and everything was fuzzy headed and fine. When Craig finally looked up, Donovan was wearing an expression he was already very familiar with. He looked ever so slightly amused with the world — as if he already had it all worked out, and now he was simply having fun watching those who weren't quite as clued in as they fumbled around trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
"I'd like you to let go of me now." Even to Craig's ears, it sounded like the first time he'd truly wanted the other man to back off. Against all his expectations, Donovan stepped back without a word.
For several seconds, Craig just stood there, completely free and completely unable to convince himself to take advantage of his freedom. Finally, he managed to step forward and move past Donovan. He kept walking. When he reached the door out of the bar, he looked over his shoulder. His colleague was still where he'd left him.
A stupid temptation to rush back across and take whatever he could get from the other man and damn the consequences flooded Craig's brain. Panic came hot on its heels, giving him the strength to turn away.
He rushed into their office block, just in time to catch the lift before the doors slid shut. With every passing second, he imagined Donovan would stride across the lobby and step into the small space with him, that he would be trapped in there with him all the way up to the sixth floor.
His heart raced faster and faster as the doors stubbornly stayed open no matter how many times he pressed the button. When the doors finally slid shut without Donovan or anyone else joining him, Craig leant back against the mirrored walls and ran his hand down his face.
His fingers hesitated over his lips. Donovan had kissed him. He still couldn't quite wrap his head around that fact. Donovan had kissed him. Craig took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. Donovan had kissed him. It was very nice. It was what he'd been thinking about during every sleepless night since he first met the other man. And it could never happen again.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Gay Man Seeks Same"
by .
Copyright © 2010 Kim Dare.
Excerpted by permission of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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