Cast Off

By
KC B
URN

TORONTO TALES

Cop Out

Cover Up

Cast Off

Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Copyright

Published by

Dreamspinner Press

5032 Capital Circle SW
Ste 2, PMB# 279
Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886

USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cast Off

Copyright © 2013 by KC Burn

Cover Art by Reese Dante  

http://www.reesedante.com

Cover content is being used for illustrative purposes only
and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Ste 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA.

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

ISBN: 978-1-62798-129-3

Digital ISBN: 978-1-62798-130-9

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

September 2013

Acknowledgments

As usual, I have to thank my crew of supporters: Alex, Dottie, and Chudney. I wouldn’t be here without you. I’d also like to thank the Mantastic Book Club for lending a sympathetic ear and listening to me whine—ladies, you are awesome! And Dolorianne, thanks for the extra brainstorming.

Chapter 1

F
ROWNING
, Rick Haviland smoothed a hand over his abs. Sure, the pink T-shirt was as tight as his clubbing clothes, but it was faded, ratty as anything, and practically falling apart. Then again, he was only going over to his friend Davy’s house to help him and Davy’s new boyfriend, Kurt, paint their house. Sure as shit, he didn’t want to get any of his normal clothes covered in paint, but he also wanted to look good.

Partly because the perennial club boy was what his friends expected, and partly—perhaps stupidly—because of Kurt.

Kurt was a gorgeous cop, who unfortunately belonged—lips, cock, and asshole—to Davy. Despite some rather aggressive flirting before Kurt and Davy got together, Rick wouldn’t have actually slept with the sexy detective, no matter how often he appeared in his fantasies. The second he’d laid eyes on Kurt, he’d labeled Kurt as a keeper. Rick didn’t have sex with keepers. Keepers couldn’t be trusted, nor could a keeper trust him. He’d seen first-hand how badly relationships could fuck people up, and he was already fucked up enough without adding heartbreak or worse.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t like an appreciative look or two from Kurt. Maybe a quick grope. Surely Davy wouldn’t begrudge him that. Kurt had been recently shot in the line of duty and the whole wounded hero thing worked for him. While Kurt had been in the hospital, though, Rick had been too scared for his friend to even flirt. He didn’t quite know how Davy could stand tying his life to a guy with such a dangerous job. Relationships were plenty hazardous all on their own.

The doorbell rang, shaking him out of the contemplation of his outfit. He ran downstairs, even though he was probably just going to get suckered into some theological argument with those cute boys the Mormons insisted on sending out to “spread the word.” Rick should never answer the damn door for them, but he relished engaging with young men who didn’t quite have the wits to debate properly, and he never seemed to have the strength to shut the door until both sides were thoroughly frustrated. Still, with a shirt so tight his nipples would probably rip the fabric if they hardened up, maybe he’d succeed in enticing one of them into his lair.

Rick swung the door open, hip thrust to the side, the better to display his groin.

“Rick,” Oscar breathed, gaze dropping exactly where he’d intended, even if Oscar hadn’t been the intended target.

“Oscar. This is a surprise.” Rick blinked. They’d had sex last night at Oscar’s and Rick had left shortly after midnight. Showing up on his doorstep less than twelve hours later was unusual, to say the least. Then again, as a medical resident, his hours were often weird.

Oscar stepped right into Rick’s personal space, then proceeded to get a whole lot more personal with his ass, taking a firm grip on each cheek.

“Didn’t I wear you out last night?” Rick asked.

The hard cock pressing into his stomach and the lips on his neck were answer enough, and the answer was a clear and definitive no.

Oscar undulated against him, and Rick’s breath came a little short.

“You should have stayed last night.” The warm breath from Oscar’s whisper made Rick shiver, but the words sent a chill down his spine. He didn’t do overnights. He didn’t let any of his fuck buddies stay at his place either, no matter how fucked out they were.

Still, with Oscar’s talented lips and tongue making hash of his determination not to arrive at the painting party late, he decided to ignore the words. Oscar knew the score. Rick had been very careful to explain that their only relationship would be sexual.

Oscar’s hand wormed its way into the front of Rick’s jeans, cupping his burgeoning erection, fingers wriggling below his balls.

Clutching Oscar’s firm butt, Rick consigned his good intentions to the heated flames of his libido. He was definitely going to be late to Davy and Kurt’s painting party. For the best reason: getting laid by a guy who knew what he was doing.

“Or I could have come here last night. Stayed over.” Oscar ended his sentence with a firm bite on Rick’s earlobe.

Rick froze. Surely this was Oscar’s lame attempt at erotic talk and not his only fuck buddy turning into a keeper before his eyes.

Oscar continued to stroke him, keeping his cock interested, which Rick went along with, even though he wasn’t sure this was a good idea.

“Uh, Oscar….” Rick pushed halfheartedly at Oscar’s shoulder.

Pulling his head back, Oscar looked deeply into Rick’s eyes. “I think we should move in together.”

The completely unwelcome sentiment gave Rick the strength to push away.

Goddammit! Rick normally had a number of regular fuck buddies, all carefully selected to be good in the sack, careful with their sexual health and have zero interest in a relationship. Oscar was the only one he had in rotation right now after he’d terminated Ivan’s fuck buddy status. Ivan, at least, had recognized that Rick wasn’t able to provide any emotional connection, but unlike most of Rick’s regulars, they’d remained friends. Oscar wasn’t going there. Especially not with this full frontal assault.

“Oscar, we’re not moving in together. I don’t do relationships, remember?”

He had rules to keep this from happening. Most times, he lost guys because they eventually decided they wanted to settle down, but they rarely asked to do so with him. He never met their families and always made sure he had transportation if they met somewhere.

The man reached for him, arms like tentacles as Rick danced to evade them.

“C’mon, Rick. I know you’re not seeing anyone else right now. We’re already practically in a relationship.”

Rick’s eyebrows rose into his hairline. He might not know much about relationships, but just because neither of them was seeing anyone else didn’t automatically make this a relationship. But that was exactly why he was so pissed. The older he got, the harder it was to find appropriate guys to put into rotation and now he was going to be left in the unfortunate position of… auditioning. He should probably be more enthused, but mostly he was resenting Oscar something fierce for putting him in this position, by turning into not only a keeper but one who wanted to keep Rick.

“Are you crazy? It takes more than a few fucks and a lack of competition to make a relationship. You need to go.”

Oscar gave him a wounded look that was presumably meant to be cute, but Rick was done.

“Rick, baby. We could be so good together. And the fucks were epic.”

How exactly had a guy who sounded like a stoned surfer managed to make it through medical school, anyway?

“No. Out. Don’t call me. No strings, no relationships. You need to go.” Rick squared his shoulders and crossed his arms, hoping to look as closed off as possible.

Oscar’s eyes widened, and his cheeks reddened. “But I think I love you.”

Rick rolled his eyes. “Ridiculous. If you want a boyfriend, go out and get one. You’re a catch, you won’t be single long, but I’m not that guy.”

In love with him? Please. He shoved Oscar out of the doorway and slammed the door shut, locking the deadbolts. Leaning against it, he waited for the inevitable pounding, signifying Oscar hadn’t given up. He only had to wait seconds, but it was still enough of a shock to start his own heart pounding.

Oscar called his name, cajoled, begged. Rick’s phone rang and rang. He groaned. If Oscar made him change his phone number, he was going to be plenty pissed. First thing he was doing was blocking Oscar’s number.

Ten minutes passed like this, and Rick had just started to wonder if he should call the police when Oscar’s car finally squealed out of his driveway. Rick was going to need to calm down a bit before he drove over to Davy and Kurt’s place. He slid to the floor, waiting for his pulse to return to normal.

He’d have to rush if he didn’t want to be too late. Lateness would require explanations. If he’d been late because he was getting laid, that would have been one thing, but he didn’t want to explain the Oscar fiasco to his friends. They probably would have told him to give Oscar a chance, but there was no way that was happening.

T
HE
small, neatly kept bungalow wasn’t haunted. It wasn’t the haven of serial killers or infested with cockroaches. Yet Ian O’Donnell’s belly churned and sweat slicked his palms at the thought of ringing the bell. The only scary thing inside was his baby brother, Kurt, who’d fallen in love with a man named Davy, and shocked the family by announcing he was gay at his own fucking birthday party.

No one was upset or angry or hateful. No one except Ian. He’d fled the party, avoiding Kurt and the rest of the family for months. It wasn’t the first time Ian had thought the baby of the family had it easier than the rest of them, but it was the first time he’d let those insidious feelings interfere in his relationship with his brother. Then his stupid brother got himself shot in the line of duty, and Ian’s bruised feelings ceased to matter. All that mattered was fixing things with Kurt, if only he knew how.