Nothing but Smoke (Fire and Rain) (23 page)

BOOK: Nothing but Smoke (Fire and Rain)
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“Shut up.” Nicky went to the couch and tried to figure out where to sit with Tomas and Jesse taking up most of it.

“Here.” Tomas urged Jesse into his lap.

Jesse went in an awkward sprawl, blocking Tomas from view of the rest of the room.

“Thanks.” Nicky dropped next to the guys. There was a pot of tea on the coffee table, and Nicky wrestled forward to pour himself a cup.

“So, is Michael getting you anything special for your birthday?” Tomas’s muffled voice came from somewhere behind Jesse, but Nicky could still hear that he was being a smartass.

“Besides the blowjob this morning? I don’t think so.” Nicky said it quietly enough that Michael’s mother wouldn’t hear. Or more specifically, so Michael wouldn’t hear. Nicky had a feeling Michael’s mom wouldn’t care.

“Well, I’m glad to hear our boy’s treating you right.” More muffled words from Tomas. His tough-guy routine would work better if he wasn’t covered in five foot ten of floppy-haired twink.

“Jeez, Louise.” Jesse twisted on Tomas’s lap, though whether he managed to see Tomas’s face Nicky couldn’t tell. “It’s not enough that you pick on Michael, you have to get on his boyfriend’s case too? You know, we’re not going to get invited anywhere if you keep this up.”

Tomas must have started tickling Jesse at that point, because Jesse squirmed, giggling, but batting behind him at Tomas at the same time.

“Who’s ready for cake?” Eline’s voice rang out from the kitchen.

Michael walked ahead of her, rolling his eyes in frustration, but when he looked Nicky’s direction, he was all smiles.

“We are! We are!” Henri bounded onto his knees in the chair.

“It’s gluten-free,” Michael grumbled, which Nicky found hilarious since practically everything Michael cooked didn’t contain any wheat either.

“We won’t hold that against the cake.” Jesse gave Eline a wink.

She rounded the corner holding a cake that was lopsided and covered in candles that didn’t match. Still, she’d managed to pair a three and a zero together to make a thirty, which was sweet. Scoops of ice cream lined the bottom, and Nicky was fairly certain they’d make a giant mess and have Michael bitching in no time.

“Haaaaaaaaappy birthday to you!”

Michael joined in with his mother, his voice rich, and Nicky couldn’t believe he’d never heard Michael sing before because he was really good.

All the guys joined in, making Nicky want to hide his face. “Okay, okay!” He waved them to stop.

When he’d blown out the candles, everyone clapped and whooped, and Michael gave him a smile bright enough Nicky could almost forget the rain outside.

“I think I should cut this.” Michael took charge of the knife, not giving his mom a chance to make a mess.

The cake was better than Nicky would have expected. Soft and chewy, though the icing wasn’t particularly sweet. Still, with the homemade ice cream, the dessert was fantastic.

 

 

Jesse had to get to an evening class, so Michael and Nicky got out of there once everyone had finished the cake. They hurried through the rain to Michael’s car, sliding into the seat so Michael could turn on the heat.

He rubbed his hands together, both to get rid of his frustration that his mother had screwed up Nicky’s birthday cake, and to make sure his hands had proper circulation to drive.

Tomorrow, he’d make a cake at their place. The right kind. After all, he knew exactly what happened when he let other people be in charge.

“So where do you want to go?” Nicky asked, a small grin on his face.

“I don’t know? Home?” Michael pulled away from the curb. He hadn’t considered heading anywhere else since Nicky had work tomorrow and Michael had class in the morning.

“What, you don’t want to go to a leather bar?” Nicky winked. “I’d think you’d want to rebel after the whole family-time thing.”

Michael snickered. He and Nicky hadn’t hung out with Michael’s mother all that much, but apparently it had been enough for Nicky to sense that seeing his mom put Michael on edge. “Or we could just go home and play filthy choir boy.”

Though Michael didn’t have anything approaching a religious fetish, he’d become slightly obsessed with Nicky’s stories of Catholic school.

Nicky on his knees. With his mouth open…waiting for the priest to put a wafer on his tongue…

Okay, seriously. Michael was really going to hell for thinking that, and he didn’t even believe in God.

“I still have my uniform, you know.” Nicky licked his lips. Oh yeah. He knew it got Michael off.

“I’m pretty sure you’d rip through the seams of it nowadays.” Of course, Michael could get excited imagining that too. Maybe it was wrong and maybe it was slightly sick, but if Nicky wanted to play the Catholic schoolboy, Michael could get on board with that.

“You sound like you’re complaining.” Nicky took Michael’s hand as they drove.

“No. I’m not.” Hard as Michael was getting, this train of conversation was making Michael think of something he’d been mulling over for a while. “But, uh, there’s something else I kinda want to…”

For years after Michael and Mark broke up, Michael hadn’t really wanted to bottom. He’d felt so used and taken advantage of by Mark, and though on a logical level Michael knew there was nothing inherently demeaning about bottoming, he hadn’t been able to fend off the notion that if he’d topped Mark, even once, he wouldn’t have felt quite so miserable when they broke up.

“What?” Nicky’s eyes lit up.

“Well, have you ever thought about…?” Michael couldn’t believe how hard it was to say. His and Nicky’s sex life had worked basically one direction since they’d been together. He worried Nicky would think less of him if he asked.

“Have I ever thought about what?” Nicky’s lips twisted into a smirk, like he knew exactly what Michael was asking and just wanted to make Michael sweat.

Michael lifted his chin, unwilling to be made embarrassed. “I wondered if you might like to switch it up sometime.” Michael didn’t need it regularly. Hell, once a year would probably be enough. But he missed that feeling, a man against his back, on top of and in him. With how strong Nicky was, Michael could imagine—

“I’d do it if you want.” Nicky leaned into Michael’s side. His breath was quick on Michael’s neck. “You’d like that, huh?”

Okay, not if Nicky was going to make fun of him. “No dirty talk. It’s been a while for me…”

Nicky kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

 

 

As it turned out, Nicky wasn’t gentle at all.

About the Author

Retired party girl and ’80s film enthusiast, Daisy Harris spends most of her time writing sexy romance and plotting the fall of Western civilization. Ms. Harris lives in Seattle, where she tortures her husband by making it rain. She enjoys watching bridges cause traffic, watching football games cause traffic and blithely wearing wool socks with sandals.

She has two little girls who’ve challenged Ms. Harris’s feminist tendencies by insisting that makeup and high heels are appropriate for every occasion, including rock climbing and camping trips.

Daisy writes M/M romance about gods, zombies, firefighters and college boys. She’s never missed an episode of
The Walking Dead
.

Find Daisy on Twitter as
@thedaisyharris
, on the web at
www.thedaisyharris.com
and on Tumblr at
http://holsumcollege.tumblr.com/
.

Look for these titles by Daisy Harris

Now Available:

 

Fire and Rain

From the Ashes

After the Rain

 

Coming Soon:

 

Fire and Rain

November Rain

 

David’s Selfie

They’re going to need a bigger tent.

 

After the Rain

© 2014 Daisy Harris

 

Fire and Rain, Book 2

Henri’s list of bad exes is as long as his arm, but nothing prepared him for his latest, heart-stomping breakup. He thought he couldn’t feel more abandoned, until his ride for a group camping trip bails, leaving him stuck driving for hours with a guy who is absolutely not his type.

After breaking up with his girlfriend of five years, firefighter Logan is working up the nerve to explore his interest in men. He knows he’s gay. He just hasn’t had the guts to do anything about it…until now.

Henri’s big-city attitude and tight jeans push every last one of Logan’s buttons, and when he and Henri have to share a tent, Logan is thrilled. He should have realized Pacific Northwest weather would get wet—forcing them to strip naked.

Though the steam between them is thicker than coastal fog, Henri’s not sure he can let himself fall for another man. Not even the guy who finally treats him right.

Warning: Contains bad ex-boyfriends, even worse weather, and more than your average amount of sex in a tent. May not be suitable for those with germ phobias, outdoor aversions or fear of damp shoes.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
After the Rain:

“Here.” Henri came over with a couple marshmallows pinched between graham crackers. He handed one to Logan, smirking. Moonlight teased at Henri’s cheekbones, darkening Henri’s eyes.

It was all Logan could do not to kiss him, but instead Logan shoved the s’more in his mouth.

“You going to eat that whole thing?” Henri said it with a hitch to his eyebrow that was pure suggestion.

Logan laughed around his bite, spraying a fine mist of graham cracker crumbs. Oh God, Henri must have thought he was the world’s biggest dope. But Henri’s smile was kind as he reached up and wiped a bit of chocolate off the edge of Logan’s lips.

Damn, Logan wanted to take that finger and suck it into his mouth. No. No way. Henri had said
maybe
. He’d held Logan’s hand. Finger sucking was definitely off the menu.

With a coy grin, Henri bit his s’more in half. His shapely lips were all coated in melted marshmallow and chocolate, and Logan wanted to lick it off so badly he could wait a month if he had to.

Somewhere nearby, guys began drumming. Logan couldn’t see them, but from the general shift in the air, he could tell that the crowd had gotten excited.

“Oh God.” Henri leaned into him, resting his forehead on Logan’s shoulder. “I really hate drum circles.”

Logan froze, suspended in a place between not believing his luck and being terrified to fuck things up. Henri’s hair smelled so good, and his body was lithe and small but also strong and sinewy. Logan wanted to clutch Henri, grab him, haul him closer. With Soleil, it had never been like this. He’d never felt so turned on it was almost scary.

“The drummin’ part or the circle part?” Logan forced his voice not to crack. Slowly, he lifted his hand to hover over Henri’s back. He waited long seconds, wondering if Henri would pull away. When Henri let out a sigh and relaxed against Logan’s chest, he brought his palm to rest between Henri’s shoulders.

“Both.”

Giving in, Logan dropped his head to rub his cheek against Henri’s hair. Oh hell, he could do this—only this—all night. Standing there under the stars just holding Henri…Logan didn’t know why he’d worried about blowjobs and fucking and the rest of it.

“Attention!” On the other side of the campfire, Buck stood on a picnic table. He held his hands up, palms out, in the universal sign for quiet down.

The drumming slowed to a low-pitched beat, and the guys lowered their voices.

“It’s time for a polar bear dip!” Buck ripped his shirt over his head and beat his fists against his chest.

Okay, this Logan had not been expecting. He looked to Henri for direction, but Henri’s mouth hung open in horror.

“Oh, hell no.” Henri wound his arms around his torso as if someone might run over and try to tear his clothes off.

All around them, men stripped. Buck waved, pointing at the ridge and the river beyond. Logan hoped all the guys stuck to the section where the water pooled in a lagoon and didn’t venture into the river itself. In the dark, it could be dangerous.

“Come on, gentlemen!” After a few shouts from the lesbians in attendance, Buck added, “And ladies.”

“You sure you don’t want to go?” Logan imagined he knew the answer, but he still had to ask. Maybe it was like river rafting and Henri needed to be cajoled into joining the fun.

“Not if the river were peppermint mocha.” Henri cuddled into Logan’s side, but whether it was for warmth or because he was as reluctant to let go as Logan was, Logan couldn’t tell. “I’m pretty beat.” When Henri tilted his head, their eyes met. “And I bet Michael has all kinds of activities to torture us with tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Logan’s belly lurched at the idea of lying together in a tent in the dark, but at the same time, his heart kicked up to pounding. “I’m tired too.”

One by one, they got their sleep clothes out of their bags, and together they headed to the bathrooms. Logan caught Henri’s eye in the bathroom mirror as they stood brushing their teeth. Maybe it was because there was a toothbrush in Henri’s mouth and his lips were dripping with toothpaste, but it looked like he was smiling for real, not even a smirk this time. His dark eyes crinkled around the edges and sparkled in the yellow halogen lights.

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