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  “No. But marriage? Children? That’s a big step.”

  The warm water pelted their bodies, and the press of Rider’s cock against Nicco’s made him horny as hell. “I didn’t say tomorrow. But after Ma realized that me being with you doesn’t automatically equal an end to her hopes of a wedding and grandbabies, she felt better about it.”

  “And you want that with me? Marriage? Children?” Rider looked more vulnerable than Nicco had ever seen him. It made Nicco wonder what kind of worries had been going on in that blond head all this time.

  “Of course, dumb ass! What’d’ya think, I’m using you until I feel like settling down?”

  Rider’s hands came up to frame Nicco’s face, and he crushed their mouths together in a kiss that made Nicco’s knees weak in a matter of seconds.

  When he’d reduced Nicco to a moaning mess, Rider broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together. “No, I didn’t think that, but…there was always the chance—”

  Turned on and out of breath, Nicco covered Ryder’s mouth with trembling fingers. “No chance in hell, babe. You’re stuck with me.”

  Rider’s subsequent dazzling smile made Nicco feel even happier than the day he’d been accepted into the police academy. He couldn’t imagine ever being without this man. Staring into Rider’s loving baby blues, Nicco suddenly realized he was glad things had gone down the way they had. Now that his mother knew about them, a great weight had fallen from his shoulders.

  “I’m gonna call Ben later and tell him about us,” Nicco said. “Pop can wait.”

  Nicco hadn’t thought Rider’s smile could get any brighter, but he’d been wrong. Overwhelmed, he pushed his hips against Rider’s, grinding their cocks together until Rider made that noise that always drove Nicco crazy.

  “Ma’s napping, so I got some time,” Nicco said, reaching behind Rider and turning off the water. “What’d’ya say we make use of that big bed of yours?”

  “I’d say that’s a plan.” Rider kissed Nicco one more time before stepping out of the shower and heading for the bedroom. Nicco watched him go, heart swelling in his chest.

  The future looked pretty good from where he was standing.

  * * * *

  ABOUT REBECCA JAMES

  A wife and the mother of three children, Rebecca James resides in the southern United States. She has a B.A. in English Literature and loves writing both contemporary and paranormal M/M romance. For more information, visit rebeccajamesgayromance.wordpress.com.

  Nicco and Rider appear in the stories Partners and Lovers, both available in ebook format wherever JMS Books are sold.

  Jesse’s Guy by Nickie Jamison

  The light turned red. I glanced at Jesse in the passenger seat, gauging his reaction to my confession. The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile and his dark eyebrows indicated surprise. Jesse ran his hands through his black curls. His Greek ancestry showed in his dark hair, olive skin, and very Romanesque nose—a stark contrast to my Navy short blonde hair and blue-eyed German lineage. Eyes forward, Sailor.

  A rainbow banner announcing this year’s PrideFest rippled, kicked up by the movement of cars through the intersection. Time stretched out, car, truck, car, car, car…and my guts ached with either nervousness or too much Italian food, I couldn’t tell. The light turned green and the car in the lane next to me lurched forward, screeching tires and spitting black exhaust from the tail pipe, rushing to get in the lane ahead of me.

  “Was I really your first crush, Kyle?” Jesse asked.

  I exhaled and nodded, careful of the car ahead, which, in addition to burning oil, apparently lacked functional brake lights.

  Jesse cleared his throat. “You were my first crush, too. You married Amanda and had a kid, I didn’t think—”

  “He’s bisexual?” My Grandma Ruby asked from the back seat.

  I had sort of forgotten that my grandmothers were in the back seat. My ears pricked hot as Grandma Ruby’s eye caught mine in the Escalade’s rearview.

  “You liked men,” Jesse said, slow and careful, as if the words were a knife and he was making a concerted effort not to wound me.

  Jesse and I grew up together, sort of. In grade school we’d been best friends, but school zones and life happened.

  “You two are so adorable,” Grandma Ruby said. Beside her, Grandma Betty Lou grinned.

  My family tree is more like a family web. Grandma Ruby and Grandma Betty Lou raised me after my mother left and I didn’t know that every kid had two grandmothers until I went to kindergarten. When I was six years old, I told Grandma Ruby that I wanted to marry my best friend, Jesse. I remember her wringing the yellow dishtowel as she told me I was allowed to love anyone I wanted to, but there were hateful people in the world that might tell me my feelings were wrong, or try to hurt me. I watched the waffled yellow fabric of the towel bunch between her thick knuckled hands and thought up ways to keep Jesse and myself safe. The simplest solution was to say nothing…until now.

  “Why thank you, Ruby,” Jesse said. He grinned at me and I wondered what his lips would feel like against mine, kissing that silly smile.

  “I’m glad Aunt Annette hired you.” I said to Jesse as my eyes flitted from one pair of eyes to the other, staring at me in the rearview. During one of the few Skype calls that had actually gone through when I was on a ship floating somewhere in the Red Sea, Betty Lou’s daughter, Aunt Annette, had mentioned hiring a nurse to take care of her aging mothers. I wasn’t expecting that RN to be Jesse and I’d damn near fell off the gangplank in shock when I saw him standing on the pier with my grandmothers to welcome me home.

  “For once Annette listened to me,” Betty Lou said, arching one eyebrow coquettishly.

  “Have you two been planning this?” I smirked and my gaze slid to Jesse, that wonderful kissable grin plastered across his face. He shrugged in response.

  “Would I do such a thing?” Grandma Ruby asked incredulously.

  “I let you have two glasses of Cabernet—the one you call truth serum—at dinner, Ruby.” Jesse rolled his eyes and mouthed sorry to me.

  Grandma Betty Lou winked at me in the mirror.

  “I’m still pissed with that bitch Amanda,” Grandma Ruby said.

  “Tell us how you really feel, darling,” Betty Lou egged her on.

  “Can we refrain from discussing my ex-wife? She’s on my shit-list right now,” I said, mentally steeling myself against the argument against Amanda that I was intimately familiar with.

  Grandma Ruby’s voice pitched into a high falsetto, a caricature of primness, “I can’t bring Joshie to visit. I’m too busy bible-thumping and I don’t want your gay cooties.”

  Betty Lou laughed at Ruby, Jesse frowned, and I rolled my eyes.

  My ex-wife Amanda left me because she thought I was too “effeminate” and that would “negatively affect our son.” Her words, not mine. She filed for divorce while I was out at sea and moved back to Georgia to live with her cunt mother who hated me anyway. Amanda wore her Southern Baptist upbringing like armor, making it okay—in her mind—to make swinging judgements on other people’s lives. I couldn’t quite remember why I married her and I’m sure at one point she was lovable. The last time I saw her and my son, Josh, was the day I left for my first deployment. By now he’d be two or three years old. I sighed.

  “It hurts when people do shit like that. So many of my friends have adopted the we don’t care attitude, but I think we do care. At least I do,” Jesse said.

  “I know what you mean,” I said.

  “Damn right.” Someone from the back seat said, but I couldn’t distinguish who while they were both giggling drunkenly. Ruby and Betty Lou were in their nineties, but they acted like teenagers. Annoying and endearing.

  I took a right into the hotel parking lot and eased the car up to the curb to let off my three passengers.

  The lot was full of cars, people probably like us, in town only for the fest. I circled around the lot twice before finding a large enough space for the
Escalade in the rear of the lot.

  “Kyle,” someone shouted my name as I was getting out of the Escalade. I looked up, Jesse was trotting toward me. “You have all the room keys,” he called as he jogged between cars.

  I slammed the escalade’s door and tapped the lock button on my keychain twice, making the horn honk like I was arming an alarm. The escalade didn’t actually have an alarm, but I’d had enough cars broken into during my life time that pretending to have an alarm felt like it made a difference. I checked my back pocket, yep. All the keys for conjoined first floor handicapped accessible rooms were there. “Sorry.” I took a step forward.

  My car is rolling down the hill.

  Why is my car rolling down the hill?

  Oh shit! MY CAR IS ROLLING DOWN THE HILL.

  I shook the Escalade’s key loose from the jumble on my keyring and jammed it into the locked door, walking sideways, trying to keep up with the moving car. Jump inside…if it will slow down…it’s not slowing down. I pressed against the door, my arms stretched wide, like maybe if I hugged the Escalade and told it it was precious and that I’d start making car payments on time and took it in for routine maintenance, the vehicle would magically stop. Instead it gained momentum and headed straight for the next row of parked cars. No, don’t hit the Mercedes. Jesus. Fuck. Oh. Fuck. Shit. I wasn’t sure if I was cursing aloud or in my head.

  The Escalade stopped. Jesse leaned around the side and stared at me wide eyed. His cheeks were red from exertion. “Did you leave it in neutral?” He gulped the question between panting breaths.

  “I don’t know.” I ripped my keys from the door and pressed the unlock button on the keyfob.

  We stopped, looked at each other, and I heard them—Grandma Ruby and Betty Lou standing by the hotel door, hooting and cackling with amusement.

  I righted the car in the space, checking and double checking that I put the parking brake on before locking the car again. Jesse stood with his arms crossed, the kind of slight smirk on his pretty face that held back laughter. “Thanks for saving my car,” I said, throwing my arm around his shoulders and pulling him into me.

  “The Escalade was attempting escape,” he said, laughing.

  The sound made my heart flip-flop around in my chest. I kissed him on the mouth, a quick peck, enough to raise a blush on Jesse’s cheeks. He stared contemplatively at his beat up Reeboks for a second too long before clearing his throat and looking back at me. “It’s past Ruby and Betty Lou’s bedtime.” He weaved a path through the parked cars back down the hill to the hotel.

  Fuck. I couldn’t pinpoint what I’d been thinking when I kissed Jesse—I wasn’t and now the whole weekend was going to be awkward and shit.

  * * * *

  Jesse and I shared the room with two queen sized beds while my grandmas slept in the adjoining room with the single King. We’d opened the two doors that separated the suites, and that gave the illusion that the space was slightly larger. While Jesse did his job of administering PM medications to my grandmothers, I took a shower and stood under the stream of hot water. If she knew, Aunt Annette might have kittens over her nephew lusting after the hired help.

  I stepped out of the shower and swore as my feet hit the flood I’d created on the cold white tile because I hadn’t had the shower curtain liner in the right place. The hotel towels were an upgrade from the scratchy ones on the ship and they lacked the tinge of oil and man funk that was so prevalent in tight quarters. I grabbed the towel from the top of the stack and watched in slow motion as the other two towels fell from the shelf, the wads of white terrycloth knocking my clean boxers and T-shirt right into the lake of water between the john and the tub. Shit. I hadn’t packed any spares.

  The shower curtain rod was the only place in the small bathroom to hang anything. I wrung the water out as best I could and draped my damp clothes over the rod in the hopes that they would be dry by morning. If not, I’d have to figure out a way to get away with wearing the same underwear two days in a row. Or go commando…I am free—freeeee ballin’. I wrapped a towel around my hips and went into the bedroom.

  The door to my grandma’s room was mostly closed, cracked open just enough to hear the both of them softly snoring. Jesse lay on his bed. He looked up from his phone, an amused smile sliding across his face.

  “Floor’s wet,” I said. “I got my clothes out of the way if you need to use the head.”

  One dark eyebrow arched and Jesse’s smile split into a wide grin. “Clothes out of the way for head, got it.” He winked at me.

  My cock stirred. The images racing around in my brain of his full lips sliding up and down my stiff shaft—tongue hot and wet, swirling around the length of me—were not helping me maintain my composure. I swallowed, pushing the nervous lump in my throat down and moved toward my open suitcase on the luggage rack against the wall. “I’m not sorry about the kiss earlier. I’ve always loved you, Jesse, even after we drifted apart,” I said. The only dry pair of boxers I had were eluding me in the small carry on. Jeans, socks, T-shirt…where the hell are my goddamned underpants?

  He was behind me, his hand on my shoulder. I felt the rise and fall of Jesse’s chest as he embraced me from behind. “Me, too,” he said against my ear. The sensation of his warm breath against my skin made my desire for him surge higher.

  “This romantic sappy shit is getting to me,” I exhaled.

  “Me, too,” Jesse agreed. “As much as I’m all for the lovey dovey stuff, since you’ve been back all I’ve really wanted to do was fuck you until both of us were cross-eyed and walking funny.”

  I laughed loud and then clapped my hand over my mouth. Jesse and I froze, holding our breath listening. No sound came from the other room.

  “I didn’t exactly come prepared for hardcore ball slapping sex,” I said. The heat of his body against my still shower damp skin was arousing. Heat flooded my groin and my dick moved against the terry cloth around my waist.

  “Me either, but there’s always later.” Jesse kissed the back of my shoulder, nipping lightly. His five-o-clock shadow prickled and tickled my sensitive flesh. I shivered, going from half-cocked to full mast instantly.

  Jesse urged me into the bed. My towel hit the floor as my ass hit the mattress. Jesse’s lips crushed against mine, sweet, heavy, wanting. Our tongues danced, dipping in and out, probing the depths of each other. He tasted wonderful, sweet, and savory, like a cold Guinness and warm German chocolate cake.

  I sighed when he loosened his embrace. Jesse lifted his shirt over his head and shed his shorts and boxers, kicking them off of the corner of the bed onto the floor. My eyes widened when I caught sight of his glorious dick, nestled in a neatly trimmed shag of black curls, his skin stretched smooth—except for foreskin partially obscuring the view of the bulbous purple head.

  Jesse laughed and nuzzled my neck, his lips skimming along the curve and down across my collar bone. “You were on a ship for months with five thousand other guys, have you never seen an uncut dude?”

  I hummed as his lips enclosed around one nipple, his tongue flicking the hard tip, wet and sensual. For a brief moment, I forgot that this beautiful man had asked me a question. “Yes, but never…” I swallowed, my mind going blank as Jesse’s fingertips slid along the inside of my thigh, the flat surface of his fingernails skimming close to my sack.

  Jesse trailed one finger over the skin where my leg joined the rest of my body, around my tight nuts. I squirmed, my bottom lip caught between my teeth. Touch me.

  As if he’d heard my silent entreaty, Jesse’s fingers surrounded my pulsing cock. He caressed upwards, then down, then up, slow and steady. “Do you like that?” He asked. I moaned in response, words wouldn’t say because with Jesse’s warm hand on my dick I couldn’t use my brain.

  “What about this?” He asked.

  My God. His mouth sunk down on my length, pulling me all the way back into his throat. Name? I have one of those? My fingers wound into his hair, tugging and twisting, my hips rising to greet
the succulent pull of his beautiful lips. My legs moved of their own accord, twitching bordering on a full thrash.

  Jesse pressed a knuckle into my perineum, kneading the encouraged hot flesh. I was sweating from places I didn’t think I could sweat, eager for release. He pulled me closer and closer, Jesse’s tongue moved up, back and forth, licking the underside of my penis like a damn lollipop. Pop. My back arched, balls tight, as I unloaded savagely.

  My cock pulsed and Jesse sucked, pulling every drop of fiery come from me. I lay against the soft white sheets, exhausted and satisfied. “That was wonderful,” I said, kissing him on the mouth.

  “You’re beautiful when you climax,” Jesse whispered against my lips. He kissed me hard and hungry. His erection pressed against my belly, sliding across my sweat slicked skin. “I’m so horny, you wouldn’t even have to touch me and I’d blow my load.”

  “But I want to,” I said, pulling him forward. Jesse straddled me, hovering, so that his ball-sack just brushed against my chest. I gripped his firm velvety cock, stroking the length of him. Jesse exhaled and came, jets of sweet come splashing against my cheeks and neck.

  I wiped my face with the corner of the down comforter and Jesse flopped onto the pillow beside me. “My brain thinks it’s 1981,” I said and hummed a few bars.

  Jesse laughed and kissed me. He took my hand in his and with our fingers entwined we slept.

  * * * *

  I woke up in a tangle of white sheets with no sign of Jesse. My palm rasped against the stubble on my cheek and prickled my fingers when I scrubbed sleep from my face. On the bedside table was a note written on hotel stationary in Grandma Ruby’s slanted hand.

  Went to Fest.

  Jesse had laid my now dry boxers and T-shirt on the pristine bed I hadn’t slept in. I showered, shaved, and grabbed a Bear Claw and coffee from the free continental breakfast in the lobby on my way to the park.

  I had just thrown my empty coffee cup in a trash can when I spotted my grandmas sitting on a bench in front of the massive water fountain in the center of the park. Their walkers were side by side, decorated with rainbow streamers and the home-made posters that I’d helped decorate a couple of days ago in preparation for our trip. Ruby’s bright pink poster read I’ve been in love with a woman since 1942, her name is Betty Lou and Betty Lou’s traffic cone orange poster read There’s no one with whom I’d rather be than my lady Ruby.