Showing posts with label Friday Free Read. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friday Free Read. Show all posts

Saturday, 20 August 2011

FRIDAY FREE READ (on Saturday!)


SHALL WE DANCE?



Ross stood at the back of the line.   He couldn't believe Stevie had talked him into this.  He huffed for the tenth time in ten minutes, ignoring the daggers that Stevie shot at him.  He didn't dance - at all - ever.  He had two left feet and no rhythm, so he wasn't exactly dancing material.  Yet here he was, in the line waiting to go into a, he shuddered, ballroom dancing class.  He thought back to the conversation he had had with his best friend - and he used the term “best friend” very loosely – Stevie Peterson, every Thursday for the last three weeks.

”Stevie, I am not going to ballroom dancing classes with you just so you can hit on lonely women.”
”I resent that remark,” Stevie had huffed, ignoring the raised eyebrow that was Ross' only comment. “Come on Ross, please,” Stevie had whined, turning remarkably convincing deeply hurt blue eyes in Ross' direction.  “Just think of all the lonely singletons out there and if you can't think of them, think of me! I'd do the same for you.”
”No you would not,” Ross snorted, running his hands through his hair exasperatedly.  “Doesn't it bother you that if two men turn up – together — for a ballroom dancing class, all the lonely singletons will think you're gay?”
Stevie had pondered this for about a nanosecond before replying, “No – don't be stupid, I'm not pretty enough to be gay.  You on the other hand......” he trailed off.
”I am gay moron.”
Stevie grinned and pointed a finger at him, “Exactly.  Now come on.......please.”
”Oh for God's sake stop looking at me like that, you're gonna make me hurl,” Ross put his hand over Stevie's face and pushed him away from him. “One week.  I will do this for one torturous week, then you can latch on to some poor woman with no taste in men and I'm outta there.”

So that's how he found himself in the line, slouching at the back with Stevie – who had already cast his appraising eye over the women in the group, putting them into categories according to age, height and looks.  Ross rolled his eyes as he watched a small dark-haired woman cast an appraising eye back over Stevie.  He was obviously right about his not being pretty enough theory.  The woman certainly wasn't looking at Stevie like she thought he was gay.  He sighed heavily, huffing his breath out between his lips; he did not want to be here.
Ross picked absent-mindedly at a loose thread in his Zeppelin t-shirt, his brow furrowed above his moss-green, gold-flecked eyes as he concentrated on his task.  He was so intent on what he was doing that he didn't notice everyone else going into the class until a deep voice, with a slight Texan twang to it said close to his ear, “You comin' in dude or what?”
Ross' gazed left at black lace-up shoes, travelling slowly up extremely long and muscled, don't forget muscled, denim covered legs, to a tight black Metallica t-shirt stretched taut across a muscled torso and then up to a heart shaped face, full kissable lips and beautiful tilted hazel eyes, all topped off with a mane of shaggy chocolate coloured curls, falling in disarray to the man's collar.  “Huh?” was about the most intelligent thing Ross could come up with, which wasn't bad when you consider all of his blood had just left his brain and pooled around his crotch area.
Tall, dark and gorgeous nodded his head to the open doorway, “You comin' in to class?”
Ross pushed himself away from the wall and swallowed his mouth suddenly dry. “Erm....yeah – sorry, I was miles away.”
The shaggy mop tilted to one side and the lips curved up in a smile, “Yeah – you looked like it.  Anyway,” he motioned to the door, “shall we dance?”
Ross blushed and quickly strode into the room, his eyes searching for and finding Stevie, still talking to the same dark haired woman from the line.  He sidled up alongside them and shoved his hands into his pockets as hazel eyes closed the door behind him.
“Okay everyone,” he said, clapping his large hands together, “I'm Clay and I'd like to welcome you to ballroom dancing 101.  We're going to be learning the traditional waltz tonight.”  Clay moved over to the stereo system against the wall and switched it on. 
Ross's eyes widened as did everyone else's when the strains of AC/DC and Highway to Hell bounced around the walls.  Clay blushed and smiled apologetically, “Sorry, wrong cd,” he said, turning it off and searching through the pile on the table.  He lifted his head and caught Ross's eye as he put in another cd and Ross couldn't help his lips twitching at the flush on Clay's cheeks.
God! Ross took another good long look at Clay whilst his back was turned.  His lips lifted in an appreciative smile when he saw that Clay was as hot from the back as he was from the front.  The man’s jeans fit him like a glove, his t-shirt rocked up a little in back, showing off the curve of his tight ass.  Clay chose that moment to look up into the huge mirror that covered the wall and his hazel eyes locked with Ross'. He smiled, revealing a row of slightly uneven white teeth as he caught Ross checking him out. 
Ross blushed and lowered his eyes, trying to look anywhere but where his eyes were seemingly drawn to – which looked to be about 6ft 4” of pure muscle packed into the prettiest package he had ever seen.  He snapped out of his drool fest as Clay clapped his hands again and motioned to them all, “Okay everyone, find a partner and then we can get this show on the road.”  He waited until everyone had paired up, everyone except for Ross – who had tried to get Stevie to dance with him.  Stevie had just looked at him like he was nuts and moved a little further away from him, taking the dark haired woman, who was apparently called Kara, by the hand.
Clay grinned, casting his eye up and down Ross' body – making him shift nervously from one foot to the other – until Clay's eyes locked with his.  “Well – looks like it's you and me then,” he drawled, moving across the floor to stand in front of Ross and holding out his hand.  “I'm Clay.”
Ross swallowed hard and shook the hand that Clay held out to him, “Ross,” he mumbled, almost choking on his tongue when Clay slid one of his big hands around his waist, his other hand grabbing Ross' and curling his fingers around it, holding his arm into position. 
“Sorry dude,” he grinned, “you're shorter so you get to be the girl.”  He looked over Ross's shoulder at the rest of the class, “Okay everyone if you could get into position.”
Ross certainly blushed like a girl as Clay smiled down at him, mumbling quietly, “I'm not that much shorter.”  A small gasp left his lips as Clay pulled him in tightly to him, their hips fitting snugly together.
Clay smirked, his hazel eyes filled with a mischievous glint, “Well it would have to be because you're prettier then,” he murmured, loud enough for only Ross to hear.  Ross's eyes locked with Clay's momentarily before Clay addressed the class again, although Ross didn't hear him, because his gay-dar was clanging too loudly in his ears.  “Okay, make sure you have a firm grip on your partner gentleman, for the dance to work you need to be a strong lead.” He waited for the right moment in the song and then counted them in, his hand tightening on Ross's waist as he manoeuvred him around the dance floor. 
“Sorry,” Ross mumbled as he stepped on Clay's foot for the third time in five minutes.  “Not really a dancer.”
Clay grinned, “Yeah, my feet kinda get that.”  He manoeuvred Ross to the left so that they avoided bumping into an elderly couple and tilted his head slightly, “Is that why you came to a class? - Keep your head up Mr Freeman.”  Clay's eyes swept the room as he moved around it with Ross held securely in his arms. 
Ross shook his head, “Good God no,” he blushed, when Clay raised a quizzical eyebrow, “I mean....erm....no, my friend over there,” he nodded towards Stevie – who was busy making goo-goo eyes at Sophia, “talked me into coming because he didn't want to come by himself and he thought it would be a good way to meet women.”
Clay snorted inelegantly as he twirled Ross around, managing to narrowly avoid getting his toes stamped on again, “Well it worked for him – shame you had to dance with me.”
Ross blushed, yet again, inwardly cursing that annoying tendency before muttering, “Not really.”
Clay raised his eyebrows and a slow smile spread across his face, “So you don't like.....” he trailed off.
Ross shook his head, “Nope.  Is that a problem?” His eyes flew to where Clay's fingers were clasped firmly in his.
Clay leaned forward slightly until Ross could feel his breath on his cheek, “Nope.  I don't like 'em much either.”  Ross blushed again as he and Clay continued to move around the floor.
Half an hour later, the class came to an end and Ross had just about managed to grow a set of balls and ask the gorgeous drink of water in front of him out for a coffee, when Stevie grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him with him out the door.  Ross threw a look at Clay over his shoulder, the taller man standing there with his mouth open as if he had been about to say something.  Ross batted at Stevie' hand when he was outside, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“What?” Stevie said confusion in his eyes, “I got Kara's number, we're going out tomorrow night.  What's your problem?”
“My problem?” Ross ground out, “My problem?  My problem is that I've just spent forty-five minutes in the arms of the hottest guy I have ever seen and you dragged me out of there!  Jesus Stevie, do you have any idea how long it's been since I went on a date, never mind had sex?  Of course you do, but it wouldn't have occurred to you to give me a break would it?”  He ran his hands through his hair as he zipped up his jacket and shoved his hands in his pockets.  “I've been tripping over my tongue all evening and then I finally get to the point where I've plucked up enough courage to ask the guy out for a coffee and before I get a chance you.....you......” he sighed heavily.  “Let's just go home.” 
Stevie stood where he was, not moving – staring at a spot over Ross's shoulder.  Ross' face dropped and he felt his cheeks flush hotly, “He's standing right behind me isn't he?”  Stevie nodded slowly, smirking.  “He heard every word I said didn't he?” Stevie nodded again and the smirk grew wider.  Ross swallowed hard, “Even the hottest guy I've ever seen part?” 
“Yep – even that part,” the tall Texan voice drawled behind him.
Ross closed his eyes as Stevie gripped his shoulders and slowly turned him around, muttering in his ear, “Go get him Tiger,” before walking away to his car.
“Hey,” Clay said, smiling softly, “you kinda ran out there.”
“Pulled out really,” Ross replied, nervously shuffling his feet, “Stevie isn't the most subtle of people.”
“I noticed – don't worry, I have a Stevie, his name is Chad. So......” Clay looked down at his own feet, “you think I'm hot?”
Ross flushed, “Erm....yeah.....sorry.”
“Don't apologise 'cos then I'd have to apologise for thinking about kissing you for the last forty-five minutes and I don't want to do that,” Clay grinned widely.  “So......” he bent his head swiftly and captured Ross' lips in a slow, sweet kiss. “How about that coffee?”
Ross smiled and nodded towards the coffee shop up the block, “Shall we?”
Clay grinned, falling into step beside him, their shoulders brushing as they walked, “So Ross, you gonna come back to class next week?  It's the two step,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 
Ross chuckled as Clay opened the door of the coffee shop, his big hand warm in the small of Ross' back as they walked in.  Hopefully he'd be seeing a lot more of Clay than his two step.

Friday, 29 July 2011

FRIDAY FREE READ

I thought I might post a little Friday Free Read to start off your weekend :)  I hope you enjoy the first instalment :


Am I Still Enough?

Standing at the window, Travis turned his wedding ring slowly around his finger, watching the sun glint off the gold.  His cell vibrated on the coffee table, signaling the arrival of a text.  He was on his way.

It had started off as harmless flirtation, furtive glances over the photocopier, progressing into coffee breaks together.  Followed by lunches away from the office and long strolls around the park, munching hot dogs and watching the world go by.  He made Travis feel alive again.  Made him feel attractive, wanted, and desired, and Travis wanted him, too.  It had been easy to take a day’s vacation from work.  No-one batted an eye when they’d put in requests for the same day.  Why would they?  Travis was happily married...wasn’t he?

Travis couldn’t actually say he was unhappy, how could he be?  Who would be unhappy, married to the sweetest man on earth?  The man who, for the last ten years had shown him nothing but love and devotion.  Had never given him cause to cry himself to sleep or want to stray.  No, Travis wasn’t unhappy—he was numb.  The spark had sputtered out a while ago.  They no longer dropped everything and took a vacation on the spur of the moment. Nor did they leave each other stupid little love notes around the apartment.  He couldn’t even remember the last time they’d made love anywhere other than their bed.  Hell, they’d christened every single room in the apartment when they moved in, more times over than he could count.  And he couldn’t put anything in the linen cupboard without remembering how he had gripped the wooden slatted shelves, long fingers gripping at his sweat-slicked hips.  But they didn’t do that anymore.  They had three bedrooms, two baths, a mortgage and sex three times a week.  Vacationed twice a year in the same months and alternated between each other’s parents for Thanksgiving and Christmas.  They were... comfortable.

When He’d started at work and his gaze had traveled over him from head to toe, intent in his gaze, Travis had found it exciting, fresh, filling him with memories of how it felt to be at the beginning of something.  How it had been for them, before real life and commitment had entered the equation.  Last week, their month long lunch trips had culminated in Him waiting until Travis had gone to the store room, then following him in, leaning against the door and preventing his escape. 

Not that he’d wanted to escape.  The tension in the air had been palpable and the want rolled off both of them in waves.  The way those beautiful eyes had travelled the length of his body and a predatory smile lifted that wide mouth, had Travis’ thighs trembling.  Travis hadn’t moved when He’d reached out to curl his hands around his upper arms, pulling him up close to His muscled chest.  Travis had known that he should have been shaking his head, not letting his eyelids flutter and close as those lips pressed to his, should have been thinking of his husband. The man he loved, the man who loved him.  Travis had known what he should’ve done—but he hadn’t done any of those things.  He’d just let Him ravage his mouth and had let searching fingers roam over his ass, unable to do anything but whimper against the sensations that flooded through him.

Travis’ cell vibrated again and he picked it up, pressing the little envelope and opening the message.

I’ve just got in the elevator, are you ready for me?

Travis’ stomach flipped as though a thousand butterflies had been released from their cage.  Was he ready?  Could you ever really be ready to break the vows you had made to that one person? He flinched at the knock on the door, taking a deep breath before padding down the hall in his bare feet and opening the door.  There He was in all his statuesque beauty, a dimpled smile on his face, the heat in his eyes evident.  Before Travis could take another breath, He was in the hall, the door kicked shut and his hands on Travis’ face, his tongue invading Travis’ mouth and stabbing at his in needy thrusts.

Travis let himself be walked back into the open plan living-room and the back of his knees hit the couch before He lowered him down on it, that wide mouth sucking Travis’ lower lip into his mouth and caressing it with His tongue.  Travis knew the groan he heard had come from his own throat and it echoed around the quiet of the room.  His hand slid down Travis’ chest, over the waistband of his jeans, and when His large hand palmed his cock through the denim—he froze.  This was wrong, so very wrong.

What the fuck am I doing? Travis pushed at the muscled chest until He lifted himself off and allowed him to roll out from beneath Him and get to his feet.

“Travis?” The voice was filled with confusion and concern.

Swallowing, Travis ran a hand through his disheveled hair.  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He frowned at the harsh laugh that fell from Travis’ lips. 

Only someone who had never been in love would have asked that question and Travis wasn’t sure he could make Him understand. There were a million different reasons.  The fact that He didn’t know that Travis was like a bear with a sore head before his first caffeine hit in the morning.  Or that he had a manly fear of flying and a not so manly fear of anything that had more than four legs and scurried.  He didn’t know that Travis always cried at ET, or that he got the scar on his hip when he fell off a swing in first grade.  Couldn’t know that Travis’ mother’s favorite flowers were Hyacinths, or that his sister was allergic to shellfish.  Wouldn’t know that his favorite movie was The Goonies, or that his guilty pleasure was listening to Duran Duran.  He didn’t know any of those things, but the man smiling out at him from the frame on top of the mantle did.  All those things and more—so much more.

Travis apologized again when he closed the door behind Him, padding back down the hall and into the living-room.  He stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows and rested his forehead against the glass, looking out over the city.  He couldn’t have been standing there more than ten minutes when he heard a key in the front door.  Looking up into the window in front of him, Travis watched his husband wander into the living-room and crowd up behind him.  He smiled at the reflection he saw behinds his own and laid his hands over the warm fingers laced around his waist.  “You’re early.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Travis asked softly, his gaze locked with the one in the window. 

“For not going through with it.” The gaze didn’t waiver when the realization tracked across Travis’ face.  He simply turned Travis around in his arms and kissed his lips, the merest brush of skin against skin.  “I love you,” he murmured, ten years of feeling and emotion in those three little words and gently lowered him to the carpet beneath their feet, covering Travis’ body with his own.

Feathering his fingers through dark, silky hair, Travis’ back arched and his long legs came up to wrap themselves around his husband’s waist.  He knew.  Had probably known all along.  How could he have ever thought he wouldn’t?  He knew everything.   Curling his fingers around the back of his husband’s neck, he closed the gap between them and mumbled against soft lips.  “I love you too, Dean.”

THE END