The One That Got Away (13 page)

Trace snorted and shook his head, laying it down on the pillow he’d pulled under himself, and he sighed when he felt David’s skin against his.

Oh, he could grow to enjoy this. Enjoy this a lot. “Get to work,” he ordered snootily. David laughed, choosing to pour the cool oil directly onto Trace’s back instead of warming it in his hands like he normally would. Trace inhaled sharply and kept himself from rearing back—not that he could go far with David’s weight on his legs. “Thanks,” he said sarcastically, though it was softened with a snorting laugh. “I’m real relaxed now.” 

“Yeah, well, don’t piss off the masseuse.” David started to work the oil into Trace’s back, moving it from where it had settled in the channel along his spine over the broad planes of muscle. He pushed deeply, feeling a slight twinge in his shoulder. He’d have to take it easy with his injured side and do the really hard kneading only with his left hand. Closing his eyes, he fell into a rhythm that was relaxing him as well as Trace.

“Mmmm, don’t strain your shoulder,” Trace murmured as he started to feel the muscles releasing the knots.

Not wanting a reminder of Trace’s role as his caregiver, David worked as hard as he could at turning the tables—giving to Trace as passionately as Trace had given to him over the past few weeks. Using his body weight as leverage, he rocked forward to press deeply into the meaty muscle of the other man’s shoulders, his cock swelling as it pressed into the cleft of Trace’s ass. Even through two layers of cloth, the touch was electric. Not wanting to make Trace uncomfortable, he immediately shifted back, sliding his hands down Trace’s back to work at the muscles along the sides of his spine.

A happy purr rumbled in Trace’s chest as David worked, every thought going out of his head except how good David’s strong hands felt on him. He drew in a long, slow breath, and his eyes fluttered open when he felt David lean into him, hard and long and unmistakable. But before he could do anything more than recognize it, David had already pulled back.

Trace swallowed and realized his pulse was thrumming. It was another sign that David truly wanted him.

David felt Trace tense. Damn. He couldn’t control his body’s reaction to the sexy brunet; he simply desired him too much. So he was going to have to get Trace okay with it somehow. He leaned forward again, his body conforming to Trace’s back, and whispered next to his ear.

“Relax. I know you trust me. Just for a minute, don’t think. Just feel.” He pushed his aroused body unashamedly against Trace’s ass. “
You
do that to 
me. You’re sexy and beautiful, and it turns me on. I know you’ve danced with women, possibly even the wife or girlfriend of a good friend, and had your body react. Contact, touch, it tantalizes, teases, and my body responds. It feels good. Hell! It feels great. Even if it isn’t going anywhere. If my touch brings you pleasure, and your touch brings me pleasure, just leave it at that. Don’t make it any more complicated.” David pulled the curtain of dark hair to the side and let his lips ghost over the back of Trace’s neck.

Trace shuddered under David and obeyed, just trying to relax and feel. The longer David rocked slowly against him, the more Trace was steadily growing more and more fond of it. It
was
arousing. He groaned and unconsciously shifted his weight off his own cock, which had hardened in reaction to David’s compliments. Trace sucked in a surprised breath as his body reacted positively. David was right. It felt great.

Picking up the rhythm with his hands, David went back to the massage, letting his fingers mold Trace’s muscles. His eyes shut and he bit his lip as Trace’s hips continued to undulate in counter point to his movements. The fact that the erotic enticement was unintended made it even more provocative. The tension continued to build to the brink of climax, David’s muscles trembling before he forced himself to slow the pace. Coming against Trace’s ass wasn’t a part of the slow seduction forming in his mind. Practically melted against the pillows, Trace moaned in protest without thinking about it first, and his hands flexed to grip the sheets. Fuck, he was so turned on. “David,” he said hoarsely.

“Shhhh,” David soothed, changing the massage to long light brushes of his fingertips from shoulder to hip in alternating crisscross patterns. He could hear the need in Trace’s voice and wanted so badly to offer to ease his ache, but he knew that Trace wasn’t ready for that yet. He bit his cheek. It might hurt now, but losing Trace’s friendship would kill him.

The light massage encouraged Trace to relax again, and slowly the arousal he’d felt at David’s hands drained away as he got sleepier. All he knew was it felt incredible—and that David had aroused him so much he’d about come against the sheets. Trace pushed the thought away to mull over later. For now, he was just feeling.

David felt Trace’s body relax, sinking deep into the mattress. He continued to gently stroke Trace’s back, shoulders, arms, and hair until the slow, even breathing told him Trace was asleep. Carefully lifting himself off the bed, he snagged Trace’s shirt off the dresser as he passed and walked barefoot into the living room.

Slipping the shirt over his arms but leaving it unbuttoned, he lifted the collar to his face, breathing in Trace’s scent. His cock throbbed between his legs, leaving a spreading wet patch on the thin cotton of his pajamas. Stretching out on the couch, he slipped his hand under the elastic, pushing the pants down onto his thighs. Wrapped in Trace’s scent, David quickly stroked himself to completion, Trace’s name escaping on a breathy gasp as he came.

AS Trace slept, he dreamed. Dreamed of being held, of soft and lingering kisses. He could feel strong hands on his skin, hands with strength he enjoyed. Lips on his neck, his most sensitive spot, making him gasp, and the feel of a rock-hard body shifting against his, rolling on the bed, holding him, just being close. There were occasional sparks, but for the most part he was content to lie in the strong arms wrapped around him, stealing a kiss now and then as they murmured about something he couldn’t remember. When he started to wake, Trace shifted his legs first, the warmth of the dream naturally translating to a morning erection.

David stirred as the man in his arms shifted. When he’d returned to bed the night before, he’d lain on his back and Trace had immediately cuddled against his side. Trace’s leg was now resting securely between David’s thighs. He groaned as the brunet moved again, his leg pressing directly against David’s erection. David’s hand moved down Trace’s back to grip his hip and stop the subtle grinding that was going to drive him out of his mind. Trace hummed quietly and stilled again, but not before burrowing closer into the warm arms wrapped around him.

Shit. Now what? Once David was awake, he wanted to get up and fix coffee. He just wasn’t any good at lying in bed. He didn’t want to disturb Trace, but the man was liable to sleep another couple of hours. He attempted to slide out of Trace’s arms, but Trace frowned and struggled to wake up enough to see what was wrong. “David?” he asked, his voice husky.

His name and the unfocused look in Trace’s eyes were just too much when David was this close. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips over Trace’s mouth. It was as if Trace had never left his dream. The butterfly kiss was gone so quickly Trace tried to gain another, lifting a hand to curl about the back of David’s neck. The blond groaned, tilting his head and deepening the kiss, their lower bodies surging forward without conscious direction. David’s hand stroked down Trace’s back, cupping his ass and hitching him even closer before he realized what he was doing.

Jerking away, David rolled out of the bed and to his feet. Without even looking at Trace, he ran a shaky hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes darting to the man lying on his bed and then away in a blink. “I’m going… uhm…. Coffee.” With one more swipe through his hair, he fled.

The warmth and pleasure investing Trace’s body faltered, and he dragged his eyes open as he heard David saying something, but before he could ask him to repeat it, David was gone. And Trace felt like he was 
buzzing all over. Humming faintly, he shifted to his back, one hand straying below his hips, and he rubbed his palm over himself, rocking slightly as he sank back into the dream.

TRACE hummed along with the sultry jazz music, shifting his weight back and forth along with the beat as he stirred the mix in the deep stock pot.

He scooped up some of the liquid and pursed his lips to blow on it before he sipped it off the wooden spoon carefully.

David stopped in the doorway, watching Trace sway to the deep bass beat. The brunet and the jazz were a good match, both innately sensual.

“Something smells good,” he said, walking into the room. He stopped and pressed against Trace’s back, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Special dinner? Did you cook, or bribe one of the chefs trying to get into your good graces?” Nuzzling Trace’s neck, he nodded toward the pot. “Taste?”

“I made it myself, I’ll have you know. I did bribe somebody to get the recipe, though,” Trace said with a grin, lifting the spoon so David could sip from it. “Good, huh?”

A deep moan of approval rose from David’s chest. “Excellent. But I’d expect nothing less.” David grinned, shifting to lean his hip against the counter and watch as Trace spread a mixture of butter and fresh garlic on a loaf of bread. The brunet wore a pair of faded jeans with holes in both knees and an ass that was so threadbare it was almost white. His T-shirt wasn’t much better. It had been washed so many times that it was impossible to tell what its original color had been, but it clung to the muscular shoulders and arms enticingly. The attraction David was feeling for his friend had grown exponentially since the poker game a couple of weeks ago. 

“Do you want some wine?” Trace asked, still swaying to the music as he reached into the cabinet for some glasses.

“Sure. I haven’t had any pain meds today.” Pulling the opener out of the drawer, he turned to the bottle sitting on the counter, cursing as he twisted the corkscrew with the wrong hand. “Damn!”

Trace sighed and walked over to take the bottle and corkscrew, pausing long enough to press a soft kiss to David’s shoulder. “Well, you must be getting better if you get that far before it twinges on you,” he said supportively, popping out the cork.

David rolled his eyes, leaning into Trace’s side. “That doesn’t help.”

“Poor baby,” Trace crooned, pouring the wine into two glasses.

“How ’bout this?” Strong fingers gently probed the muscles of David’s arm and upper back. The blond moaned, his head falling forward as the massage loosened the muscles he unconsciously held tight.

Leaning back into Trace’s chest, David turned his head, kissing a line along Trace’s jaw. “So, anything this poor cripple can do to help?” he asked, taking a sip of the rich gold liquid.

Humming with the music, Trace bumped their hips together, nudging David toward the stove. “Stir the gumbo. It’ll still be another half hour or so,” he said. “Do we want anything to go with it besides rice?” he asked as he pulled a bag out of the cabinet.

“Ummm, we-ell….” David fluttered his eyelashes comically and puckered his lips.

Trace grinned and shook his head as he danced his way back over to David. “Hmmm. I don’t know,” he fudged. “Here I’ve been doing all the cooking, and you want dessert first?”

David’s eyes widened innocently. “Appetizer?”

Rolling his eyes, Trace kissed David affectionately. “How’s that?” 
he asked, amused. “Don’t want to spoil your dinner.”

David leaned his head back, closing his eyes and licking his lips like he was savoring a rare delicacy. “You’re right,” he said, opening his eyes and winking at Trace. “Far too sweet. Must be dessert.”

Trace chuckled. “You sweet talker,” he accused lightly. “I bet you say that every time you kiss a food critic.”

“Yep, every time.” David grinned and went back to stirring the pot, brushing Trace as he walked past filling the pot with water and starting the rice. Just that simple contact kept him half-hard and incredibly aroused.

Snorting, Trace stirred unsalted butter into the water. “How many food critics do you know?” he asked, shamelessly fishing.

Looking down into the bubbling liquid as though seriously inspecting the food, David replied evenly, “Just one.” Trace smiled down at the rice, and after a few moments, bumped David’s hip playfully before impulsively kissing the side of his neck, just below his ear.

Goosebumps climbed up David’s neck and down his arms at the light touch. Trace being willing to accept his touch was one thing, but initiating them himself? David shook his head. He had no idea where this was heading, but it sure felt nice. They were so comfortable together and had so much fun. Trace was probably already the best relationship he’d ever had. Lifting a spoonful of gumbo, he blew the steam away and offered it to the man stirring the rice next to him. Trace puckered his lips to blow on the liquid a little more before sliding his lips around the spoon.

He sighed happily. “A little more hot sauce, I think,” he said, deliberately reaching in front of David and leaning into him to reach the bottle.

Purposefully not moving out of Trace’s way, David maximized the drag of their bodies together. Oh, he was getting hungry all right, but he 
wasn’t sure the gumbo was going to help. Trace chuckled as he pulled back and rubbed his knuckles against David’s chest for a moment before opening the bottle and adding several shakes to the pot. “There we go. 
Nice and spicy.”

David looked at Trace out of the corner of his eyes. He’d watched Trace flirt for years, but he’d never been the recipient of the attention, and it was doing amazing things to his libido. “Just the way I like it,” he rasped.

“Yeah, I figured,” Trace drawled, bumping David’s hip and rubbing for a few moments as another song started. He hummed along as he sidled down the counter to finish wrapping the bread in foil. He was flirting like crazy, Trace knew. He enjoyed seeing David get flustered over him.