Blurb: When runaway Cal Harrison steps into a bar to escape the freezing rain, he meets Matt Kirkland, who buys him a meal and eventually takes him home for the night. But Cal’s been on hard times, and he doesn’t believe something as good as Matt could possibly happen to him. Not without setting him up for disaster. So Cal leaves—only to discover Matt’s not just a rich kid but a well-known millionaire. Soon Cal begins to question whether he should have swallowed his pride and left his difficult life behind.
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Cal might have learned forward looking for a better view, or he could have seen Matt coming. One way or another, their lips collided; a streak of heat went through Cal and he tried to worm forward, but Matt took his chin firmly in one hand, holding him in place as they kissed. The points of Matt’s fingertips burned tiny stars into Cal’s nervous system. He leaned into him, sliding out the tip of his tongue and tasting Matt’s lips, a soft sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. Matt’s lips were soft and patient, sucking and sipping at Cal’s mouth inch by inch, then sliding in a long, slow sweep that drove Cal crazy. His hands were on Matt’s shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He’d never in his life felt so desperate for anything. His breaths were coming short, each rasp echoing in his own ears. And still Matt held him at bay, kissing him deliberately, not reaching out even to touch him beyond the one hand on his jaw.
“God,” Matt breathed into his mouth. “God, Cal. I—”
Cal tried to cut him off, pressed forward for kiss after kiss. It was as though he’d been let free after a lifetime in captivity. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t need words or protestations or disclaimers. He needed the heat of Matt’s mouth on his, needed Matt’s lips to part and let him in. His tongue licked, bolder, along the seam of Matt’s lips, drawing out a frustrated moan and then—joy!—yielding the wet taste of the inside of Matt’s mouth as his lips opened. Cal thrust in, finding Matt’s tongue and the wet softness beneath it, tasting and feeling, making wanton noises he didn’t care to hold back. He clawed one hand into Matt’s hair, gripping his arm with the other and hauling him forward until Matt toppled with a cry and landed on top of Cal, pushing him down into the couch.
Yes, Cal was thinking. Yes. That. That weight. More of that. That’s what I need.
When was the last time he was this close to another human being? When was the last time he had dared to trust? Cal couldn't remember, and remembering just brought the tears anyway, so he banished it to the back of his head. So much easier to just let Matt take long searching kisses from his lips, to run his hands down Matt’s shirt and haul it up to feel the smoothness of his back. Matt gasped at the boldness, his lips going slack, and Cal craned his neck upward to suck on Matt’s lips one after the other. He was awake, utterly alive, and his whole body was radiant with heat and want.
Matt pulled back, rose to his knees, and looked down at him. “I really want to take you to bed,” he whispered, looking half-shocked at his own words.
Cal sat up and closed the gap between them again. That much space between them served no purpose. “Take me,” he whispered. “To bed. However. I just—yeah.”
Matt half laughed. A dimple formed in his cheek, and Cal leaned forward in a rush of instinct and kissed it. Matt’s sigh in his ear was a blissful, beautiful thing.