Trapping Drake 01 - Trapping Drake Read online

  The fantasy sped through his mind, unrolling in lush detail as he stepped under the hot spray, evolving as he shampooed his long blond hair and applied the conditioner. Closing his eyes he tried to imagine the touch of those large rough hands on his skin, in tandem with the smooth familiar stroke of Jay’s hands. His stirring cock rose to prominence as he imagined the two of them touching him there, his own hand stroking and rubbing, whimpers of pleasure and frustration spilling from his lips. The insidious idea of Drake taking him wove through his mind and the vision changed, two conditioner-slick fingers easing into the tiny opening of his anus. Biting his lip, he squeezed his cock tight in one hand and probed gently with a finger, pushing it slowly in, groaning as he gave himself a few quick strokes, then pushed in the second finger alongside the first. The stretch and burn faded quickly and when he came, it wasn’t Jay’s name he whispered, but Drake’s.

  Shivering with pleasure and a touch of guilt, he quickly rinsed his hair and stepped out of the shower. Remodeling the bathroom was the next project on the household improvement list. A few more days a month of overtime and they would have the money to begin the project. They’d jointly purchased the ranch-style home in a decent neighborhood with their mother’s insurance money when she passed away. Jesse had been thrilled when Jay suggested remodeling the kitchen first. He loved cooking, and the newly remodeled kitchen was a cook’s dream.

  After the kitchen, they’d focused their efforts on the backyard and the outdoor entertainment area. He didn’t regret those choices, exactly. But showering in this tiny little ancient tub shower was a pain in the ass. They couldn’t enjoy one another’s company in the shower here as they had in their old apartment.

  Exhausted, he fell into bed, curling onto his side and hugging Jay’s pillow. Inhaling the scent of Jay, a mingling of cologne, shampoo and underlying man, soothed him. It reminded him that he had love, and that was worth more than a hot fling with a sexy guy. If his dreams were as full of Drake as they were of Jay, then he couldn’t help it. A man’s dreams were beyond his control.

  ***

  Jay pulled his jeep into the driveway, grimacing as he realized that his efforts to get off work early had been wasted. Jesse’s Mustang was missing. He must have gone to school extra early for a meeting or something. Damn it. Jay thumped the steering wheel with a clenched fist. He was sick of working nights, sick of sleeping alone, sick of not seeing Jesse.

  He slid his seat back and pulled the little thermal icebox out of the passenger seat. Another thing he was sick of. Packing lunches. The cafeteria food sucked, and for a place that was supposed to preserve life, it was damned unhealthy. Jesse usually made sure that he had plenty of healthy food for his shifts, but eating alone in the break room at work just wasn’t the same as sharing a meal with Jesse, in the privacy of their own home, where they could laugh, talk, kiss, and more as the mood moved them.

  Two more nights and he’d have a three-day weekend, all of Friday, Saturday, and Sunday to spend with Jesse. He would hold that idea in his arms today and hold Jesse through the long weekend. Another week and he’d switch to the day rotation and get to spend more time with Jesse.

  Wearily, he locked his car and headed to the front door. In the dim light of early morning, the porch light glowed dully, and he smiled. Jesse had left it on for him knowing how he hated to be submerged in darkness, an irrational fear from childhood that he’d never quite vanquished. When his father had ranted about the lights in the bedroom being left on and his mother had caved in, taking the night light away, Jesse had used his allowance to purchase a tiny laser pointer, and they’d huddled under the blankets of the full-size bed they’d shared, hiding in the light.

  Jesse’s jacket rested on its hook, his ridiculous boots stood under the bench in the entryway, and his laptop and backpack sat on the bench. Jay’s heart soared. Car or no car, Jesse hadn’t left for work yet. Hastily he pulled off his own jacket and tossed it casually onto the bench, toed off his rubber-soled work shoes, and headed down the hall, pulling off his scrubs as he went. He’d shower quickly, then—he smiled wickedly—wake Jesse via his preferred method.

  The shower was still damp, and Jesse’s clothes were scattered around. He must have gotten in late. It was so typical of Jesse that he couldn’t bother to aim for the laundry basket. Jay took responsibility for the laundry, just as Jesse did the cooking and shopping. The man kept his kitchen pristinely clean, every tool, dish and ingredient squarely in place, but outside the kitchen, outside his own realm, chaos.

  Too eager to play to waste time, Jay kicked his twin’s clothes to the side and stepped into the shower. The hot water refreshed and revived his tired muscles. He soaped up, shampooed his hair, and rinsed off quickly. He couldn’t pass over brushing his teeth and taking a swig of mouthwash. Jesse would bitch if he tasted cigarettes on Jay’s breath.

  He didn’t bother to belt his short black flannel robe as he stepped out of the bathroom. Instead he threw it on the floor when he entered the master bedroom. Jesse lay naked on the queen-size bed, the covers kicked aside. He cuddled Jay’s pillow in his arms, and his lips parted as he slept.

  Beautiful. How was it possible that the man could be more beautiful today than the last time he’d seen him? Jay crossed the room silently, standing next to the bed and gazing down at his lover. Lithe white limbs, graceful and lightly muscled. Fine white-blond hairs, delicate and soft to the touch. Pale peach nipples on a firm-muscled chest and abdomen. Hand slightly trembling with passion and love, Jay stretched out and tenderly stroked through the slightly damp locks of ash-blond hair. Idiot. To go to bed with his hair damp. He’d catch a cold. Such an old wives’ tale for a man of science!

  Frowning, he noted the dark shadows under Jesse’s eyes. How late had he stayed up studying? Where was his car? Leaning forward, Jay pressed a kiss to the softly parted red lips.

  “Drake,” his brother sighed, releasing the pillow he’d cuddled and turning toward Jay, arms outstretched.

  What the fuck? Jay jerked away from Jesse’s reach. The chill of shock leeched through his system. Drake. Who the fuck is Drake? All desire to play disappeared. He stood uncertain, pulse racing, panic setting in. Breathe deeply, calm down. Don’t jump to conclusions, don’t panic. He eyed his brother warily, as though the man had slapped him. Had Jesse met someone? Neither of them had ever thought it possible, though both had tried to date other people. A tormented few years of misery, jealousy, and depression had convinced them otherwise. What would he do if Jesse had decided that he wanted out of their relationship? What could he do? He didn’t really have a fucking choice, did he?

  He couldn’t stand in the way of Jesse having a normal relationship with someone he could love and care for. Someone society would accept more easily than him. Neither could he let some asshole take advantage of Jesse’s generous, soft-hearted nature. He’d find out more about this Drake before he calmly handed his brother, his love, over to another man. If Drake wasn’t worthy of Jesse, then he’d take care of that problem too.

  He’d spent many years taking care of Jesse, looking after him. They looked after each other. He wasn’t going to stop that now, unless this Drake proved up to the task.

  But he sure as hell couldn’t sleep now! Climbing into the bed over his brother’s body, he grabbed his pillow and stretched out onto his side, facing Jesse. He traced each dear feature tenderly with a fingertip, gently exploring, memorizing again the face and body that had been his alone for the last five years. A sense of urgency overcame his scruples about Jesse’s tiredness. If he didn’t have much more time with Jesse, if the advent of Drake spelled the end of Jay and Jesse...then he needed more than wanted.

  He sidled closer on the big bed, enjoying the cool brush of the cotton sheets against his skin. His hands drifted down from Jesse’s face to his chest, exploring, finding a tiny peach nipple and pinching it lightly. Taking his heart in hand, he leaned forward and pressed another kiss on Jesse’s parted lips, this time sliding his tongue inside to
familiar territory. Jesse’s mouth muffled his groan of pleasure.

  “You’re home,” Jesse whispered, blue eyes opening wide and shining with love. When Jay saw that look, sank into those deep pools, felt the adoration in Jesse’s return touch, he couldn’t believe this Drake could pose any threat to their relationship at all. Jesse tugged Jay closer, deepening this kiss. Jay melted into him, half-covering Jesse’s body with his. He reached between them and stroked his hand down to Jesse’s hard, leaking cock.

  Jesse tilted his head, and Jay responded by trailing his lips from Jesse’s mouth across his cheek and down to the hollow of his throat. The temptation to bite, to suck hard, to mark his lover, was difficult to surmount, but he didn’t want to cause Jesse any trouble at school. “I’ve missed you so much. Need you so much.” His voice was husky, a trembling whisper.

  Jesse responded by reaching out and pulling Jay’s head back to him, holding him in place, refusing to relinquish his lips. Jay sighed in pleasure. Jesse still wanted him, still desired him. What that meant for this Drake, he couldn’t say. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, give this up. He groaned again as Jesse’s s tongue swept inside his mouth, tasting, teasing.

  Jay could only murmur indistinct sounds of approval, hoping his touch conveyed his pleasure and awe, as Jesse still refused to give up his kiss.

  “Oh, honey, Jesse.” Jay pulled away, looking down into Jesse’s deep blue eyes. “Need to taste you,” he said, sinking to his knees and twisting about on the mattress to press hot open-mouthed kisses to the thick cock that arched against Jesse’s flat belly.

  Jesse shook. “I want you to suck me.” His hands came down to comb through Jay’s hair, and he sighed in pleasure as Jay licked his dripping cock. Jay reveled in Jesse’s tight grip on his hair, each gentle tug to the fine strands sending jolts of pleasure through his body straight to his eager cock.

  “Love you,” Jay answered before taking as much of the cock into his mouth as he could, sucking and tonguing it while Jesse jerked against him, moaning loudly. Jesse’s breath hitched when Jay sucked him in to the root and ran his fingers down the crack of his ass. His fingertip pressed against the hole, and Jesse arched wildly, whimpering.

  “Oh, Jay...oh, I love you!” A rush of warm cum into Jay’s mouth quickly followed the loud groan. He swallowed in satisfaction, stroking his own cock as he licked and sucked Jesse.

  When Jesse lay gasping for breath murmuring indistinct words of love and satisfaction, Jay shifted up onto his knees, squeezing and stroking his cock frantically. He was nearly there. Jesse reached a limp hand toward him, a generous offer, but Jay shook his head. His teeth sank into his lower lip, and he felt the well of cum rising. His balls drew up tight to his body, and he shuddered as cum spurted in long ribbons onto Jesse’s taut belly. Jesse moaned again, swiping his hand through the sticky wetness, and as Jay watched, licked the semen from his fingers.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, Jay searched for control. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to beg Jesse not to leave him. Instead, he clasped his twin’s wrist, guided his finger back to the ribbon of semen, his mark on his man, and brought the dripping finger to his own mouth.

  Slowly, Jay licked and sucked cum from the slim fingers, loving the bitter salt of it, the sweet taste of Jesse’s flesh and the faintest hint of the tangerine shower gel Jesse used.

  CHAPTER THREE

  When Jesse’s coworker and friend picked him up for work an hour later Jay stayed in bed, trying to sleep but staring at the ceiling instead. Fuck. He might as well get up. Maybe doing some laundry and yard work would convince his body of the necessity of sleep. He made a mental note to call about Jesse’s Mustang before falling asleep. They could find the money for new tires. He cursed his own carelessness. He knew Jesse was clueless about shit like that. He should have checked the tires long ago and insisted on new ones.

  He crossed the carpeted floor to the thrift store dresser they shared. It didn’t even match the bed. The furniture, like the rest of the room, was cheap but functional. He wished he had the money to buy better for Jesse, but his lover never complained about the things they had or could afford. When Jay started taking on the extra shifts at the hospital to save up the money for the bathroom remodel, Jesse had protested. Jay shrugged his protests off. Work was nothing. He was used to it, and Jesse had worked hard to help pay for his nursing degree. Jesse deserved the best.

  Pulling on a pair of faded button-fly Levis, Jay gathered a pile of garments from the floor. Jesse’s laundry, like his own dishes, landed on the most convenient surface, each of them confident the other would take care of it.

  Remembering the damp clothes in the bathroom, he dropped the pile in his hands by the door and crossed the hall. As he scooped up the jeans and silky blue shirt, a slip of white cardstock fell from the pocket. He picked the paper up, intending to put it on the dresser top for Jesse, but the name on the card caught his attention. Drake Fallon. Drake. This had to be the man Jesse had met. He dropped the card as though it had bitten him, and then picked it up gingerly by the corner. Wet clothes in one hand, business card in the other, he crossed to the dresser. He held on to the card for a long moment, then sighing, let it fall to the scarred wooden top.

  In the laundry room he sorted the pile from the laundry basket and started a load in cold water. The business card, with its phone number and handwritten cell number, kept taunting him. Dropping a load of laundry into the machine without going through his ritual of checking the pockets, he added detergent and fabric softener. He wanted to call that number to hear the voice of the man who thought he could hit on Jesse on the side of the road in the middle of the night.

  Ought to feel grateful, I suppose, that he didn’t just leave Jesse stranded there. Anger and a touch of insecurity sent his gaze toward the bedroom at the back of the house. Slamming the lid of the machine, he stalked back to the bedroom. He’d call, God damn it. He had to know if the man was worthy of Jesse’s tender, loyal heart. Jesse... Jay flopped down on his brother’s side of the bed, fumbling for his cell phone. He held the white rectangle of cardstock between forefinger and thumb, stomach rippling with unease as he punched in the number.

  It rang twice before a breathless, deep voice answered. “Jesse.” That voice uttering his twin’s name sent unexpected shivers down Jay’s spine. He gulped. Holy shit. If the man’s face and body followed through on the perfection, the seduction in that voice, he was fucked. “Jesse. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did last night. I apologize. Blame it on tiredness, just...I’m sorry, okay?”

  Stunned, Jay briefly considered identifying himself. After all, he’d never said he was Jesse, had he? The man leaped to a conclusion.

  “Jesse? Say something. Never mind. Don’t say anything. Look, can you meet me for a coffee? I know, you probably think I should be apologizing for more, like the kiss, but I’d like to apologize in person. Your partner won’t mind that, will he?”

  Well, thank fuck for small mercies. Apparently Jesse had told the asshole that he was involved with someone. And what the fuck? He kissed Jesse? Jesse hadn’t said anything about the guy kissing him when he told Jay about the Good Samaritan who’d helped him.

  Full of self-righteous indignation and a strong desire to see the face that went with the voice, Jay agreed to meet Drake Fallon for coffee. While he was there, he’d make sure the man never had the urge to contact Jesse again. What kind of asshole takes advantage of a man in a situation like that? Clearly the man was a user.

  ***

  Drake gripped his phone tightly, running the other hand through his mussed hair. When he’d seen J. Cahill come up on his caller ID, the wash of pleasure he’d felt surprised him. He’d actually contemplated trying to find Jesse’s phone number with the information he had about the man. He regretted his parting shot the night before, not that he doubted the truth of what he’d said. No man who kissed him like that could be thinking about someone else, in love with someone else. Mostly, he regretted not having
the opportunity to see the man again.

  His dreams had been full of lush red lips and deep blue eyes, expanses of pale skin and heated caresses. He’d awakened hard and aching. Seeing Alexi and Simon in that bar last month, encountering Alexi again, seeing the elation love had brought to his ex-boyfriend’s life, he’d wanted more than casual sex himself. That look, and the naked adoration on Simon’s face, had convinced him that it was time for more, that there was more out there than affection and hot sex.

  He thought he’d found someone special with his first glimpse of Jesse. His first bite of those brownies had convinced him. Jesse was special, worth a little extra effort, worth time.

  The boyfriend was baggage, sure, but if things between them were as bad as they seemed, they’d break up eventually. Waiting to kiss Jesse would have been wiser. He’d apologize, offer friendship, and be patient. He could do that. If the damn dreams don’t drive me crazy first. Now, though, he gave his cock a rough stroke. The damn thing had reacted with vibrant enthusiasm to hearing Jesse’s voice, though he hadn’t seemed to have much to say other than a muted agreement to meet for coffee.

  A quick cold shower and ten-minute drive later and he sat at a table in the midmorning sun, two cups of coffee and a plate of cinnamon rolls in front of him. He should have offered to pick Jesse up. How would the man get to the coffee shop?

  He watched clouds chasing each other gently across the blue sky, listening casually to the muttered rush of people coming and going around him. A cleared throat attracted his attention and he rose instinctively. “Jesse. I’m glad you could make it. I should have offered to pick you up.” Grateful for the dark glasses that hid his expression, he let his eyes travel up and down the full length of Jesse’s body. In the brilliant light of day he was even better looking than he’d been drenched with rain on the side of the road in the dark of night. Flawless pale skin, fine white-blond hair pulled back today in a neat ponytail, firmly set plum lips, head tilted at a challenging angle. His eyes were indeed a deep blue.