The One That Got Away (12 page)

“You’ll try,” David shot back, looking at his cards. “I’ll open with fifty.”

THE rest of the night was just as amusing and a little bit more charged, infusing all the men with raucous humor and teasing. While Patrick dialed 
back the intensity of his flirting, it didn’t stop, and Trace realized it was just in the other man’s nature. So he enjoyed it and the other guys’ ribbing, especially when he slanted his own glances David’s way.

“You’re not as bad a player as you claimed, Trace,” Jared said as they cleaned up. Trace sketched a bow, a bowl of chips in each hand.

“Oh, I definitely expect you back in the game,” Matt said with a chortle as he gathered his winnings. “We get the added benefit of David being too distracted to play as well as usual.” Trace’s eyes widened a little, and he glanced to the kitchen where David was directing Jared on putting stuff away. “Oh, don’t give me that innocent look,” Matt said. “I watched you flirt with him all night after his little show of possessiveness. 
You did it quietly, but it was still there.”

Pausing next to Matt, Trace felt a moment of nerves. He wasn’t sure what he was getting into, only that it was exciting and new and felt different from anything he’d done before. He didn’t know if it was because he was such close friends with David already and the growing attraction was layering over that, or if it was just that David was a man. It worried Trace a little that he might be that shallow.

“Quit thinking so hard,” Matt said quietly. Trace blinked and looked down at him. Matt just smiled. “You’re gonna be fine. He already loves you.”

“Of course he does. We’re best friends,” Trace answered automatically.

Matt’s eyes twinkled. “Of course,” he replied tolerantly as he tucked the wad of bills into his wallet. “Hey, David!” he called out louder. “You need to make sure you have Trace here next time so I can win again!”

“That’s the only way you’ll ever win,” David tossed back, squeezing John’s shoulder as he walked him toward the door, waving at Patrick who 
was already in his car. He told himself he wasn’t pushing his friends out the door, but he wasn’t doing anything to encourage them to stay longer either. Most poker nights, someone lagged behind, and they propped their feet back with a final scotch, but tonight the only one he wanted to get alone was Trace.

Matt chuckled as he stood up and moved to the kitchen door, Trace following along since he had the bowls of chips. “I look forward to winning a lot, then,” the photographer teased, giving David a careful hug and whistling as he walked out the door with Jared, who waved at Trace and David as he left.

Trace, one bowl in hand, the other in the curl of his arm, was still staring after Matt as the man jogged down the steps. If Matt’d be winning a lot, that meant he expected Trace would be around. Would he? He was a little thrown by the immediate affirmative answer that leapt to mind. Not because of the fun to be had playing poker and hanging out, but because of the shiver he remembered feeling when David had cornered him in the kitchen and later when he had kissed his neck in full view of the others.

Trace felt a spike of desire in his groin. Christ. If he felt like this around a woman, he’d be pulling her clothes off for a hot fuck right now followed by a night of leisurely teasing and more pleasure.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” David asked, stepping up to Trace’s side, his chest brushing Trace’s arm. Reaching out, he took one of the bowls, but didn’t step away.

Trace was honest. “You,” he said with a smile.

David felt his skin tingle as chill bumps spread across his skin.

Raising his injured arm, he stroked his thumb over Trace’s cheek. He wanted Trace with a passion that he hadn’t experienced in years. Placing his bowl on the counter, he lifted the other from Trace’s hands, pulling the taller man to him once their hands were all free. “You need to tell me what 
you want,” he whispered, lifting Trace’s hair and stroking his neck. “I don’t want to read something into this that you aren’t offering.”

Trace’s eyes fluttered half-shut as David’s soft touches heated him.

“I don’t know what I want, David,” he admitted. “But it feels good. I don’t want it to stop. Can’t we just… see what happens?”

Pulling Trace even closer until he was resting against David’s chest, the blond buried his face under the curtain of dark hair, his lips moving against Trace’s neck as he talked. “Anything you want. Slow and easy.

We’ll see what happens. God, you smell so good; I want to lick you all over.” David licked from the hollow of Trace’s collarbone to the sweet patch behind his ear. He realized his words were awfully provocative for a man who’d just promised slow, but it was the truth. Sucking softly at the tender patch of skin, he hooked Trace by his belt loop and pulled their hips together.

Purring deep in his chest, Trace burrowed close as he twined his arms around David’s neck and tilted his head to the side in encouragement. “Slow and easy,” he echoed, voice low. After a soft purr, he said, “You’re seducing me, aren’t you?”

David chuckled, a deep masculine sound that curled around low in Trace’s body and squeezed. “I was thinking that you were seducing me.”

Kissing and nipping at the offered neck, he rocked their lower bodies together in a rhythmic wave.

Trace gasped softly and lifted his hips against David’s. “No, must be you. I’m not sure where I’d even start. Does what works on a woman work on you?” He shifted one arm to curl it around David’s neck.

Stepping backward, David’s hand trailed down to clasp Trace’s, pulling him along as he led him toward the bedroom. “Let’s find out.”

Both Trace’s brows raised in smiling disbelief. It wasn’t what he’d expected, but he’d certainly go along. “I wouldn’t be pulling you down the hall,” he said with a laugh.

“You wouldn’t?” David asked, his voice husky as he gathered Trace close again and leaned back against the wall. “Then show me what you’d do.”

Eyes flashing in interest, Trace took a steadying breath and stepped right up against David, only his hands on David’s chest between them, starting to unbutton his shirt as Trace first rubbed their cheeks against each other, then moved just enough for his lips to hover over David’s, teasing.

Trace moved his head slowly, almost sliding their lips together as he kept unbuttoning, knuckles purposely dragging downward. David moaned, the moist heat from his mouth mixing with Trace’s. Nudging his chin up just a fraction, he played with the magnetic force between their lips, hovering so close but not quite touching. His nipples hardened to aching points as Trace dragged his shirt apart. Trace hummed quietly as he slid one hand inside David’s shirt to rub over smooth, warm skin until his palm covered one of those nipples. “Answers that question,” he breathed, moving his palm in a slow circle.

“What question?” David gasped as Trace’s fingers grazed the hypersensitive nipple.

Trace chuckled lowly. David appeared to have already forgotten what he’d asked Trace to do. “My, my,” he drawled. “Isn’t that interesting.” He shifted his face slightly to the side, teasing his lips along David’s cheekbone.

David’s eyes drifted closed as he lost himself in the feel of Trace’s hands deliberately on his body. Trace. His friend. Trace. His lover.

David’s cock throbbed in his jeans, but uncharacteristically, he felt no need to rush. There was no hurry. Whatever was happening between them, 
they’d only have these moments once, and David felt nothing but anticipation and an eagerness to enjoy every moment. “More,” he whispered harshly. “Touch me.”

The warmth pouring off David’s skin kept Trace close, and he let his eyes fall closed. The hall was mostly dark anyway. But he could feel.

Trace lifted a second hand and slid it inside David’s shirt as well, but made no attempt to pull the shirt free of David’s jeans or push it off his shoulders. This was exploring, and Trace was more than content to do exactly what David asked for and no more. It was powerful, knowing that it was his touch that aroused David. His lips skipped softly along David’s jaw while his hair tumbled forward to shield their faces. Their bodies were a bare inch apart. Trace could feel the quiet urge to push closer, but it was easily ignored.
Just see how it goes,
he told himself, moving to drag his fingertips across the tightened nubs.

David groaned, the muscles in his chest quivering. Swallowing, he rubbed their cheeks together, his nose nudging at Trace, begging for a kiss. Giving in to a desire he didn’t know he had, Trace trailed one of his hands up David’s chest and buried it in his hair while lifting his mouth to David’s. It was soft and slow, first just their lips pressed together, before Trace dared to dart out his tongue to ever so slightly run along David’s lower lip. David’s tongue met his, tempting it into his mouth and sucking at it playfully. David’s hands had been resting innocently at Trace’s waist; now they ran up his sides and around his back to knead at the tight muscles under the soft shirt.

Trace sighed softly as he tasted scotch and David, a heady combination. His fingers lightly caressed David’s hair as he leisurely continued the kiss. When David’s hands started moving on him, he groaned aloud and pulled away from the kiss. “Aww, hell. Start that and I’ll do whatever you want.” He arched his back slightly into David’s 
hands. He adored a massage. Women who figured that out usually had him like putty in their hands.

“You will, will you?” David chuckled, nipping playfully at Trace’s bottom lip and starting them toward the bedroom again. “Come on then, Jackson. I’ll trade you a back rub for a good night kiss, but it better be a good one.”

Trace laughed lightly as David walked him backward into the bedroom. “Mmmm. I’m getting off light,” he kidded before pulling away to stretch. He hadn’t realized he’d tensed up so much this evening.
Must
be the stress of the unknown,
he thought.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m expecting one hell of a good night kiss.”

David reached for the small lamp beside the bed, wanting to see Trace as he touched him. “Take off your clothes and lie down.” Anticipating Trace’s reluctance, he assured, “I promise your virtue is safe in my hands.

It just makes it easier to massage you. I’m gonna go slip into my pajamas and grab some lotion. Care to finish undoing me?”

Trace’s lips twitched as he paced over to David to unfasten his jeans.

“David, you’ve seen me in wet Speedos. That doesn’t leave much to the imagination,” he said wryly as his fingers slid inside the waistband and his knuckles brushed bare skin.

Unable to help it, David’s breath caught as the tips of Trace’s fingers grazed the head of his erection. Through clenched teeth, he rasped, “Yeah, and my imagination was certainly running in overdrive that day.” Stepping back the moment his pants were undone, he turned from temptation. He’d promised Trace slow and easy, and begging for more of Trace’s touch on his over-heated cock wasn’t keeping his word. He momentarily contemplated jacking off as he shed his clothes, but decided he’d rather draw out this exquisite torture and take care of himself after his kiss. On the other side of the door, David grinned, thinking of the times during the 
past two days when he’d felt Trace hard against him. Pulling up his pajama bottoms, he reached into the medicine cabinet for the bottle of massage oil.

Watching David contemplatively as he turned away, Trace rubbed his fingers together. He was fairly sure he knew what he’d touched, and he didn’t want to think about it too closely. The idea of kissing another man: okay. The idea of touching his aroused cock? Trace swallowed and flushed, curling his hand into a fist. Disconcerting. Embarrassing, even, which in turn really embarrassed him. Intellectually, he knew there was nothing wrong with touching another man. Just wasn’t something he’d thought about trying. Until now. It struck Trace then that David really wanted him. And Trace definitely didn’t like the idea of teasing him. The other man reentered the bedroom. “David, is this a good idea? I don’t want to get you all riled up.”

David stopped next to Trace and reached up to smooth out the worry creasing his brow. “Does it bother you that I get turned on by your touch, your body, your kiss?” he asked softly.

Trace closed his eyes as David touched him gently. “No. That’s a hell of a boost to my ego, actually,” he admitted before reopening his eyes.

“I… I’m just a bit wigged about doing something about it. I know
I
hate a tease,” he said frankly.

“You’re thinking too much.” David started to pull Trace’s shirt out from his jeans. “I know who you are, and I know you’ve never done this before. I promised slow, and I intend to enjoy every moment of slow. If you get to a place you’re uncomfortable, no harm, no foul. We can slow down, stop, back up and just be friends. If it gets to be too much for me, I’ll let you know. Okay?” Reaching up, he cupped Trace’s cheek.

The look in Trace’s eyes was soft and affectionate, and he turned his chin to kiss David’s palm. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll try to stop thinking so 
much,” he said, smile reappearing. He reached down to undo his jeans since David was pulling on his shirt.

David stepped back and let Trace undress. He couldn’t even undress himself. He wasn’t much help, but
someday,
he promised himself,
someday I’ll strip every stitch of clothing from him and make love to him
like no one has ever before.
Turning his back, David sat on the side of the bed, giving Trace some privacy and hoping to put him at ease.

Trace pulled off his shirt, draping it over the dresser, and got out of his jeans. His hand trailed along the waistband of his briefs, but he decided against it. He totally believed David wouldn’t push, but he was more concerned that he’d be too self-conscious to enjoy the massage. So Trace left them on and crawled onto the bed. “Okay,” he said, wiggling to get comfortable.

“Chicken,” David teased, turning and catching sight of Trace’s barely clothed form. The boxer briefs clung to every dip and curve of his ass and upper thighs, effectively hiding nothing. Kneeling on the bed, David straddled Trace’s body, his weight coming to rest on the top of Trace’s thighs. Reaching for the bottle of oil, he let his chest brush Trace’s back.