Prologue
Prologue
To think all this had come from a kiss. A night when Dean out walking mistook Jay for his sister and kissed him. There was more to it, of course. Years of companionship had taken them from friends to lovers. The last of the process had taken several months but to those who didn’t know, they would believe it happened in a blink. Jay had always loved Dean. Understood him. Dean could be infuriating but Jay didn’t want him to change. He was one of the few, maybe the only one, who could cope with Dean’s ego.
For Dean…well, the man still didn’t understand his own sexuality, but in time he would, and Jay would be there to help him reach that point. Jay loved him. Always had. Always would. No matter what others thought. He would be there for Dean, the same way Dean had been there this night for Jay, rushing to protect him when he learned Jay’s safety was in jeopardy. Rushing to the garage with Jay’s sister, fending off the threat of a work colleague, and firing him. Then…after…this was a night in which Dean had made a choice. Confessed his feelings for Jay to another—that person being Dean’s father.
This winter was harsh, but Jay had finally come out of the cold into the warm. They both had.
A firm grasp shrouded Jay’s c**k in heat. Dean lifted the organ to his face, stroked it along one cheek, the action causing a shudder through Jay at the sensation of soft skin and rough stubble. Dean hesitated, a series of twitches flashing over his face as various muscles spasmed. Jay opened his mouth to say Dean needn’t…
Shit. f**k. Ahhhhh.
Dean didn’t take him all the way into his mouth—Jay didn’t expect him to, though who knew…one day—but the heat of his lips in a kiss was enough of a gesture to swell Jay’s c**k to full hardness.
A sudden knock on the door made both men jump. Not more than a second or two passed before Jay told his sister, April, to go home. Whatever she heard in his voice made her leave without argument. Leave them in peace.
With the same tenderness, Dean undressed him. Jay tried to help but his hands shook too much. He trembled more when Dean stripped. Impossible to believe they did this, in the office at the garage. This might soon be his desk, or at least he’d have shared use of it if he decided to help Dean run the business—something Dean’s father had joked about that evening, and Dean said was worth considering. Didn’t make what they did any less licentious. Were they about to have s*x on top of that desk where Dean and—oh Christ—Dean’s father prepared so many invoices?
“This strikes me as a little disreputable.” The comment stroked the emotions tearing through him. He might not shatter, but simply disintegrate under Dean’s weight.
Dean raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me that doesn’t make it good?”
He wanted to say no, it didn’t, but doing this here and now…he didn’t know how to stop.
He spoke not one word when Dean lifted him onto the edge of the desk. Then he asked, “Is this thing going to take the trauma?”
That caused a laugh. “Trauma?”
Strange choice of word, sure…for anyone who didn’t know how they had s*x. Dean, heavy, big, a traumatic feast for the senses.
“The desk is metal with a wooden top. It’ll hold up.”
Metal? Jay had never noticed, and as for the wooden top, he shook off the vision of a splintered backside. After everything he’d suffered this night, a few splinters were nothing.
Jay shivered. The room was much colder than he’d first realised, but then he hadn’t been naked and—privileged to sit on Dean’s lap—he’d shared the larger man’s warmth. He opened his mouth to tell Dean to hurry, but stopped—Dean preoccupied, busy moving things out of their way from the desktop, an escapade Jay didn’t want to interrupt. With everything shifted off to the floor, Dean picked him up, rearranging their positions. The hard surface wasn’t exactly comfortable but Jay felt safe enough.
Dean combed his fingers through Jay’s hair and Jay let him play, struck dumb and motionless by Dean’s hungry gaze. Dean liked Jay’s hair—the kind for which many women would kill. Ironic April had cut hers around the same time Jay had chosen to let his grow. The big man’s reaction, though, always bewildering, but Jay loved Dean’s enjoyment. Dean gazed upon him as something beautiful.
The unyielding surface of the desk provided the physical support he needed but his emotions were in turmoil. He waited, patient. Dean had made a life-changing decision this night by calling his father, telling the man about their relationship—Dean deserved all the time he needed. At last, Dean leaned over him, an all-consuming shadow, engulfing.
A kiss on his neck became a hungry gnawing. Jay endured, welcomed any resultant bruising. A soft sound from his lover’s throat made Jay catch his breath.
“It’s a pity we have no lube.”
A soft, tickling puff of air from Dean’s lips made Jay wriggle under him. “Spit will do.”
“Can you take me?” Dean pulled back, his blue eyes searching in all seriousness.
From anyone else that might have sounded like boasting. Dean was a large man in every way—his checking if this was okay, gave Jay all the reassurance he needed.
Could he take him? God yes!
“Just f**k me.”
A strong grip dragged him to one side of the desk so that the hard edge bisected his spine. The sudden pain eased as Dean raised his legs to settle between them, but where one pressure ended, another began.
Jay concentrated on that hard, and smooth, unrelenting yet gradual stretch, a wonderful pressure filling him. The only thing to complain was the desk, but the furniture proved sturdy.
“You feel so good on my c**k,” Dean choked out.
Jay laughed. “You’re just a romantic at heart.”
Fingertips paved a path over his face. Blue eyes stared into his. Jay lay motionless, waiting. He was beginning to know when something affected the man’s emotions, to identify when something wasn’t a laughing matter, to Dean. Was this a sign of a blossoming relationship? With luck, yes. Jay waited, open to a future of possibilities.
The other man’s lips stretched wide. “I guess we’ll both just have to stick around to find out how much of a romantic I can be.”
