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Authors: Taylor V. Donovan

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dialogue now. It’s been years, Sam. Years of nothing but blame

and guilt. Your feelings have kept you alone and—”

“I don’t want to be with anyone,” Sam interrupted. “You

know I don’t care for relationships.”

But Sam hadn’t always felt that way. Once upon a time he’d

believed love conquered it all. He’d wanted a family and his very

own happily ever after. And he’d been so close to having it, too.

Then he’d made the worst call of his life and lost it all.

Now he was older and wiser, and had learned the hard way

that having a partner meant being partly responsible for their

well being, and that was something he just couldn’t take on.

Which was why he was all about the one-nighters.

It was in everybody’s best interest that he kept things

as anonymous as possible and only hooked up when it was

understood and agreed upon that nothing would come out of it.

He really didn’t want to be bothered with unsolicited attention of

the emotional kind.

six DegRees of Lust
27

“I know you don’t want to be in a relationship. I don’t either,

so I can hardly blame you. But please, babe, if you never again

have one, let it be because you honestly don’t want it and not

because you’re scared of the responsibility… Or because you feel

you don’t deserve it.”

“I have to talk to her, don’t I?” Sam asked, resignation ringing

clear in his voice.

“If you want to be able to have some peace of mind and

move on, then yes, you do.”

ChAPteR two

May 13, 2009

New York City

Mac’s gut twisted at the rumble of the landing gear. The last

time he’d been on a plane was when his parents took the family

to Disney World. Back then it had been exciting. He had been

ten, and for reasons that wouldn’t make a damn difference at the

moment, he had never air traveled again. Mac figured everyone

had their little fears, but this was ridiculous. He was a grown

man. He’d been a firefighter for years. You’d think a man who

had the balls to walk into burning buildings and battle scary ass

fires could manage to take a deep breath and remain calm on an

airplane, but you’d be wrong. At the moment he was breathing

heavily, sweating bullets, and pissed as hell. A kid across the aisle

had noticed his distress two hours after takeoff and had been

laughing at him while mouthing the words “Big Pussy” ever since.

Damn disrespectful kid needed to get his ass whooped.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the plane finally pulled into

the terminal. His friend patted his hand, which made Mac feel

like an even bigger wimp. He shot the other man a “bite me”

look and shook his head when Braxton started laughing.

Had it been anybody else making fun of him, Mac would

have felt compelled to beat the shit out of them. But it was Brax

and truth be told, the man would get lenience even if he laughed

at Mac for the entire transatlantic flight. Not because he was his

boss, but because he was a great friend and human being. He

was also one of the few people Mac had great respect for, even

if he’d been lying to Brax for the past several years. That it was

by omission and only so that he could honor the agreement he’d

made with his family, didn’t make it any better.

With a sigh, he got up from his seat and reached for his

30 Taylor V. Donovan

carryon. He had a feeling his mother wasn’t going to make things

easy for him, but even if she didn’t get with the program he was

still coming out. He was done hiding who he was for the benefit

of others, and as soon as he figured out how to come clean to

Braxton and Remy and the rest of his close friends without

looking like a hypocrite, he would.

“I’m so happy to be here,” Mac said to his friend. This trip

couldn’t have come at a better time for him.

“Welcome to New York City, boy.” Braxton took one of the

bags from him and slapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll take care

of business and make sure we have some fun before we head

back home.”

“Can’t wait.”

They shared a grin and followed the other passengers off the

plane.

The two men were in town to scout the market and possible

location for a night club Braxton was thinking of opening there.

Already the owner of probably the hippest, hottest, and most

famous club in not only Houston but probably southern US of

A, he’d decided he wanted to expand, and Christian Murphy, one

of Braxton’s closest friends and a favorite of the entire staff at

The Heat Wave, Mac included, had suggested NYC.

Thinking it was a great idea, Brax had immediately planned

for a four day trip and somehow decided he needed Mac with

him. Feeling like he could use the impromptu vacation, Mac had

jumped at the offer, and so there he was in NYC, more than

ready to enjoy the time in the city he was positive would feel like

a different planet to him. It would’ve been even better if Remy,

his best friend, was there to explore the city with him. But Remy

had insisted it was impossible for him to take the time off. Still,

Mac couldn’t wait.

On their way to the terminal to collect their luggage and find

Christian, their friend and chauffeur for the day, Mac looked

around at all the people coming and going, taking in the faster

pace. He was about to comment on how different from Texas

six DegRees of Lust
31

everything was when he noticed Braxton talking on his phone

a few steps ahead of him. The huge frown on his friend’s face

caught Mac by surprise, as the guy had been in a good mood only

a minute ago.

He’d almost caught up with Brax when someone rudely

bumped into him, knocking his carry-on off his shoulder and to

the ground.

“Hey!” Mac said, a little annoyed. He leaned down to pick

up his bag at the same time the other person did, and they damn

near bumped heads.

“Sorry man. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Mac felt shivers down his spine at the deep, sultry New York

accented voice. He swallowed hard, picked up his bag then looked

at the guy. Holy fuck, he was a walking, talking orgasm. Slightly

shorter than Mac, with a swimmer’s build. His eyes were blue and

intense. His midnight black hair was long enough to allow for a

firm grip. Mac, an expert when it came to disguising his interest

in other men, couldn’t stop himself from staring at this gorgeous

one.

“No problem,” he managed to say. “I was distracted too.” The

other man glanced at him with an apologetic smile. He must’ve

noticed Mac’s interest, because his smile turned into pure sin and

he gave Mac a very obvious, thorough once over, causing his

blood to rush right down to his dick.

Mac sent a silent thank you to the gods. Last thing he needed

was to get his lights punched out had the dude been straight.

But he most definitely wasn’t, and his blatant blue-eyed gaze

was doing weird things to Mac. He had been checked out and

propositioned many times throughout the years, but had never

reacted to it the way he was doing now.

“Yeah, happens when you’re in a hurry.” The guy’s deep voice

rumbled through Mac like a freight train. “Nice accent, by the

way. Texas?”

“Yeah, from Houston… and right back at you.”

“In town for business or pleasure?” The black haired wet

32 Taylor V. Donovan

dream’s voice seemed to get deeper on the word “pleasure.”

“Both.” Mac was annoyed that his own voice actually quivered

a little. Granted he had never before in his life had such a strong

sexual reaction to a man in public, but this was ridiculous. Clearing

his throat, he let his gaze slide over the tall, muscular, suit covered

form before adding, “If we can manage the time, that is.”

The other man was about to say something else when the PA

announced the last boarding call for some flight.

“Damn, that’s me.” He looked disappointed. Or was that just

wishful thinking on Mac’s part? “How long are you staying?” he

asked, not taking his eyes away from Mac’s when he reached back

to get his wallet.

“I’ll be here until Saturday afternoon,” Mac answered, not

giving a crap Braxton could very well be witnessing this encounter.

This guy was gorgeous and Mac wanted a piece of him, caution

be damned.

“Saturday… okay… ” The guy leaned slightly forward and

put what looked like a business card in one of Mac’s front jeans

pockets, glancing down at his package before stepping back,

taking Mac’s breath away in the process. “I should be back by

then. Give me a call, will you? I’d love to show you the goods.”

He flashed what was probably the world’s sexiest smile. “You

have a good one.”

“You too. Have a safe flight.” Was all Mac could say, smiling

when the guy started to walk backwards.

“Yeah… thanks.” Another smile, another onceover, and he

finally turned around and headed towards what Mac assumed

was his gate.

Mac subtly adjusted himself. “Jesus… What the fuck was

that?” He closed his fist tightly around the card inside his pocket

and squeezed his eyes shut. “He wants me to call him.” Mac

swallowed hard. “Yes…Yes!” He took a moment to get his

heartbeat under control, then snapped his eyes open and turned

to go catch up with Braxton.

A hysterical chuckle escaped him when he found his friend

six DegRees of Lust
33

walking towards him.

Shit.

Had he seen anything?

Then again, did Mac even care anymore if his friend figured

out Mac was gay before he was ready to tell him? Sometimes he

thought he didn’t.

Mac turned around one more time to take a last look at the

sexy as fuck stranger and smiled when he saw the man was doing

the same.

“Mac.”

He shook his head, took a deep breath and looked at Braxton.

The man’s handsome face was pale and his mouth twisted in

disgust.

“What’s going on?” he asked, feeling guilty for checking out

a guy when it was obvious there was something wrong with his

friend.

“That was Eric on the phone.” Eric Callahan was a good

friend and a homicide detective with the Houston PD. “A body

was found last night… they’re almost sure he was gay.”

“Shit.” Another guy killed because of his sexual orientation

would definitely explain Braxton’s foul mood. “Anyone you

knew?”

“Name didn’t ring a bell but you know that doesn’t mean

anything.”

“Right.” The guy could’ve been a regular patron of The Heat

Wave, but that didn’t mean Brax, or even Mac, would’ve known

him personally. “This is crazy, man. I hope Eric catches whoever

is doing this.”

“And tomorrow wouldn’t be soon enough.” Braxton agreed

as they made their way out of the terminal.

§ § § §

May 14, 2009

34 Taylor V. Donovan

Mac buttoned up his short sleeved, dark red shirt and slid

his hands over it slowly, getting familiar with its shimmering

appearance. As a T-shirt and jeans, cotton all the way kind of guy,

he had never in his life worn anything so fine. Heck, he wouldn’t

even know where to shop for something like it; but thanks to

Christian, who had assured him it was mandatory for tourists to

experience the joys of a New York City shopping spree, he could

now mention a few stores and designers he’d never heard of and

whose names he could barely pronounce.

Mac tugged his shirt a little and looked at himself in the

mirror. It fit his linebacker’s physique like a glove, smooth and

soft and damn, the color did look good against his golden skin.

It was the only thing he’d loved at the store, and Chris apparently

noticed because, on the cab ride to the hotel, he’d given Mac a sly

smile and a gift wrapped box.

After making sure his blond hair was spiked just right he

grabbed his wallet and opened it to make sure he had enough

cash. Braxton had refused to let him pay for his own plane ticket

and room, but, after a brief argument, he’d agreed to let Mac pay

for tips and cab fares at the very least.

He put the money away and took out the business card he

hadn’t used until that morning. Granted he’d been busy, but the

real reason was he’d been worried his friends would find him out.

He’d walked around with a hard on for the guy he referred to

as Sexy Super Agent for days, trying to figure out what to do and

how to do it to no avail.

The fact that he might miss this opportunity mainly because

his friends didn’t know Mac swung the same way they did was

frustrating to the nth degree, but it wasn’t the right time to come

out to them.

The card had no first name on it, only an initial, but it stated

that the blue eyed wet dream was a Special Agent with the FBI.

Beauty and brains.

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