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(c) 2007
Nick looked up into a pair of crystal blue eyes. He started, thumping the back of his head on the hood of the Endloader.
Brandon leaned back against the driver side door, laughing. Black jeans rode low across his hips. His chest was bare except where the tattoos reached around his sides. A shower had softened the spikes and his black hair drifted in wisps across his forehead. For one brief moment Nick forgot just how mad he was and allowed himself to stare in awe at the muscles and the tats and the incredible smile. Then the memory of the previous night reared up. Hinges screeched as he slammed the hood down hard.
“So this is the hearse?” Brandon raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure it’s a restoration project and not a junk yard?”
Nick offered up a thin smile. “Yeah, this is the rust bucket.” As he pushed past Brandon and slid into the front seat, Nick twisted the key in the ignition. The hearse roared to life with a throbbing, primal growl.
“Whoa, she lives, I’m impressed.” Brandon started to reach in and touch Nick’s hair. Nick caught the movement in the rearview, slamming the door shut to stop him. “What the?”
The driver’s window was down, semi-permanently. It had to be physically pulled into place. “Garage door’s open.” He slung his arm over the door and picked at the rotting weather strip. “Wouldn’t want anyone to see us together.”
“Nicky, what’s up?”
“It’s me, not you.” His boot heel drew a red-brown line from the gas pedal back. “Don’t worry about it.” Probably time to order carpeting through Kanter. Probably should get floor panels first... or maybe fix the window and do weather stripping. Shit, there was still a lot to do. He’d hoped a certain someone could help him with that. That’s what he got for letting his fantasies overstep reality.
Both hands on the door, Brandon leaned down to peer at Nick. “About what? Tell me.”
“I’ll get over it.” Mouth set hard, his eyes slid toward Brandon. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Before I leave on Sunday? Come on tell me.” Silence answered him. Brandon switched tactics. “I had a lot of fun last night, at least before everything went to hell.”
“Yeah, you were having fun.” Nick reverted to staring out the windshield.
“You weren’t?”
“At first.” Nick killed the engine. “When we first got to Purgatory and Miri’s birthday that was fun.”
“And...” Brandon prompted.
Nick tried not to let the pain show in his eyes. “Then you went to get a drink at the bar. And you stayed at the bar flirting with that girl. I mean, shit, we haven’t seen each other in two months and you ditch me to chase tail... which, as far as I know, you’re not going to do anything with anyway.”
“Nick, I told you I’m not out.”
“Okay. No!” Nick ran his nails across his scalp. “Not out is no public displays of affection. I can’t tell anyone we’re seeing each other. I get it. It’s bad enough, but I understand why.” His hand slammed the steering wheel. “It is not ignoring me for an hour while you grab some bitch’s ass! You wanna cover... I’m seeing someone. Gee, you’re cute, but I can’t get involved now. I’ve really been looking forward to seeing you again, and that just fucking hurt.”
“Listen, Nicky, I didn’t do it to hurt you. I’m sorry. It’s just habit.”
More black flecks found their way to the floor. “You know what really hurt?”
“What?”
“That your first thought wasn’t me... it was protecting your cover in the easiest way possible.”
“I’m sorry, Nicky. I should have handled it better. All I can do is say I’m sorry.”
“I know. I’ll get over it. Like I said it’s my problem.”
Hard silence broke between them for a time. “No, it’s my problem. I really, really like you, Nicky. It’s been a long time since I felt this way about anybody. Hell, I drove four hours across the desert, pulling bugs outta my teeth to see you.” Nick snorted a laugh. “Let’s not go out tonight. Stay home, just you and I. I’ll give you all the attention you need. I want to. I want to be with you.” Brandon leaned in through the window and turned Nick’s chin with his fingers.
“The garage door’s still open.”
“I know.” Brandon kissed him. Brandon hadn’t shaved yet. Stubble tickled the edge of Nick’s lips. “You broken it in yet?”
He pulled back. “Broken what in?”
“Big ol’ back area...” Brandon’s chin jerked towards the rear of the hearse. “Plenty of room.” Nick’s skin tingled under Brandon’s feather light touch as the other man reached in and pulled the t-shirt over Nick’s head. The black material landed in a pile somewhere near the bike. Holy shit, Brandon was intense. A smile flashed, the latch clicked and the door eased open.
“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” Nick rolled his eyes, sliding back across the bench. “Jake would never have gone for that. He was always after me to sell it and use the money for a down payment on a Toyota.”
It was almost feral how Brandon moved, crawling across the seat on all fours. “That’s just tragic.” The deep voice was mellow, soothing, sensual. Nick could get off just listening to Brandon talk.
Already things were beginning to tingle and tighten. “Well, this wasn’t his lifestyle.”
“How the hell did you meet him then?” Strong arms were on either side of Nick’s hips as Brandon leaned in.
“He’s part of the fetish crowd, dress up to party on weekends.” Why the fuck was he talking about Jake? Especially with Brandon licking just behind his ear; damn it was really getting hot. “You know, club bleed over and stuff. Otherwise he’s pretty conservative.” A strong hand stroked him through the camouflage. He began to swell in response to the touch. “He thought the Hearse was weird. A sling in his bedroom, okay. A car that used to haul around dead people, gross.”
Brandon’s lips were working down the side of his neck. “I think it’s wicked. What’d ya name her?” Fingers of frost danced under Nick’s skin wherever the kisses landed.
Nick’s skin clung to the vinyl against his back. “Querida.” His own hands were tracing the ridges of Brandon’s biceps, his hips grinding into the caress. “It means ‘I desire you’... it’s what Gomez called Morticia.”
“I always wondered about that. Querida.” The way Brandon said it, Nick knew he wasn’t talking about the car. “Wanna climb in the back and fool around?” Brandon was just too damn sexy to stay mad at for long.
Nick’s breathing was already heavy. The heat in the garage didn’t help. “For a guy who’s not out you certainly like to have sex in some risky places.” Well, not that risky, they were almost sixty feet back from the street and in a garage. Still, if someone were standing at the end of the drive they’d get a show. “Besides, I didn’t bring anything out with me.”
Brandon chuckled. “Cops and Boy Scouts always come prepared.” A thin foil package dropped between Nick’s legs.
He twisted the packet in his fingers, sliding his gaze up to meet Brandon’s eyes. “Make up sex.”
“Oh, hell, yeah, baby.” Burning hard kisses stole what little remained of Nick’s resistance. “One of the best types around.”
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~Reviews~
"Cheating Chance is an awesome story that will make you resent every single second you have to take away from reading to deal with the inconveniences of daily life, like eating and sleeping." ~ Bella, Two Lips Reviews
"James Buchanan Keeps things moving in this quick paced story. Action, emotion, and lust all vie for the top billing. I really enjoyed this read and it is definitely memorable." ~Rita, Night Owl Reviews
"Cheating Chance is a little dark sometimes, hot all the time and very exciting...interesting, entertaining and very well written." ~Nannette, Joyfully Reviewed
"Cheating Chance is a well written, realistic mystery blended with humor and sensuous love play that keeps your emotions attached to the very end of the story." ~Chocolate Minx, Literary Nymphs Reviews
"I must say that I found this probably a more gritty look at the life of the gay male in certain work fields. Sad, but true. I liked the fact that the emotions of both men were explored, the sex and light bondage were extremely sensual and there were enough sub characters such as Mexican Mafia to make the plot continually interesting without those "slow" patches." ~WitchGiggles, Alternative-Read.com
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