fucking sure those were sinful. As was pretty much everything he did with Becca, so maybe he should stop worrying God cared what Brad did in and out of bed with a willing partner.
Of either sex.
Yeah, well, even if God didn’t care, Brad’s mother would.
He didn’t use a glass. Just opened the faucet and cupped his hand under the running water. He gulped eagerly to sate his thirst, and then splashed some on his face. It did nothing for his burning skin.
His mother didn’t have to know. Not like they talked about whom Brad had sex with. She was as good at pretending Brad was innocent as he was at pretending the check she gave the church once a year made her a good person.
And this was a dark path to go down, so he dredged his thoughts back to the question that burned him.
Was he gay? Was that why he had the thoughts he did for Colin? No straight man wondered how another man’s mouth tasted.
Then why was he so drawn to Becca? Why did he want to have her as often as possible? It wasn’t overcompensating; a whiff of her perfume was enough to get him hard. He wanted her, and was determined to tell her he loved her. He’d cook her dinner this Saturday, open his heart to her, and then give her her gift—assuming Colin showed up.
The way she took over for Colin in Brad’s head was a relief.
He wasn’t gay. Wasn’t fooling himself and his partner. The most possible scenario was that his sexuality, repressed by his strict upbringing, had finally found an outlet in this amazing, wild woman, and he wanted to soak up new experiences. Which made him bi-curious. It sounded better, not that he’d say it aloud. His mother would disown him. And possibly sue the Catholic all-boys school Brad had attended.
More confusion. He’d never entertained impure thoughts about any of his classmates, and not for lack of opportunity. The communal showers should have clued him in, if he were the tiniest bit into guys.
So why did he keep calling Colin?
He returned to bed, hoping to will away his returning erection.
Sleep would do him some good, but Becca’s warm naked body beside him sent his thoughts back to that apartment with the mattress on the floor and the mirrors on the ceiling.
Becca’s body wrapped around Colin’s, her pale flesh glowing against his golden skin. His hardness melting into her soft curves. Together they were perfection, and Brad wanted to have them both, at least once.
Shit.
Chapter Two
“Stop checking your phone, and go. You’re already an hour late.”
Brad looked at Becca stretching on the bed. Her naked shoulder and thigh peeked out from under the covers, and her hair was strewn around her head in a dark, messy halo. Knowing what the sheets kept from him wasn’t conducive to getting his ass to the office, even if he’d spent the greatest part of Sunday in bed with her.
He should have spent all of Sunday in bed with her. Then he wouldn’t have sent Colin that stupid text.
“You’re looking at me like I’m breakfast.” Becca rolled on her side, and tucked more of the covers between her legs, revealing a round buttock. How did he ever think he was gay, when he wanted to do unspeakable, wicked things to her ass?
Maybe he could spare another half hour? “I can see you covered in maple syrup. Or whipped cream.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Messy, but sounds good. I may be convinced, if you throw in a bubble bath afterward.”
“Deal.” He slid on a dark blue tie, and turned to the full-size mirror to do the knot. This was who he’d been before Becca waltzed into his life in her silly stained overalls and perfect manicure. He’d been Mr. Poised, and she’d been Ms. CrazyPants. Who’d have thought he’d end up head over heels for her—or with her heels by his head within hours of first meeting her outside his company?
She’d told him she was new in town, and asked if he knew a good cocktail bar. In a surprisingly bold move, he’d invited her to dinner at an Italian restaurant
Of either sex.
Yeah, well, even if God didn’t care, Brad’s mother would.
He didn’t use a glass. Just opened the faucet and cupped his hand under the running water. He gulped eagerly to sate his thirst, and then splashed some on his face. It did nothing for his burning skin.
His mother didn’t have to know. Not like they talked about whom Brad had sex with. She was as good at pretending Brad was innocent as he was at pretending the check she gave the church once a year made her a good person.
And this was a dark path to go down, so he dredged his thoughts back to the question that burned him.
Was he gay? Was that why he had the thoughts he did for Colin? No straight man wondered how another man’s mouth tasted.
Then why was he so drawn to Becca? Why did he want to have her as often as possible? It wasn’t overcompensating; a whiff of her perfume was enough to get him hard. He wanted her, and was determined to tell her he loved her. He’d cook her dinner this Saturday, open his heart to her, and then give her her gift—assuming Colin showed up.
The way she took over for Colin in Brad’s head was a relief.
He wasn’t gay. Wasn’t fooling himself and his partner. The most possible scenario was that his sexuality, repressed by his strict upbringing, had finally found an outlet in this amazing, wild woman, and he wanted to soak up new experiences. Which made him bi-curious. It sounded better, not that he’d say it aloud. His mother would disown him. And possibly sue the Catholic all-boys school Brad had attended.
More confusion. He’d never entertained impure thoughts about any of his classmates, and not for lack of opportunity. The communal showers should have clued him in, if he were the tiniest bit into guys.
So why did he keep calling Colin?
He returned to bed, hoping to will away his returning erection.
Sleep would do him some good, but Becca’s warm naked body beside him sent his thoughts back to that apartment with the mattress on the floor and the mirrors on the ceiling.
Becca’s body wrapped around Colin’s, her pale flesh glowing against his golden skin. His hardness melting into her soft curves. Together they were perfection, and Brad wanted to have them both, at least once.
Shit.
Chapter Two
“Stop checking your phone, and go. You’re already an hour late.”
Brad looked at Becca stretching on the bed. Her naked shoulder and thigh peeked out from under the covers, and her hair was strewn around her head in a dark, messy halo. Knowing what the sheets kept from him wasn’t conducive to getting his ass to the office, even if he’d spent the greatest part of Sunday in bed with her.
He should have spent all of Sunday in bed with her. Then he wouldn’t have sent Colin that stupid text.
“You’re looking at me like I’m breakfast.” Becca rolled on her side, and tucked more of the covers between her legs, revealing a round buttock. How did he ever think he was gay, when he wanted to do unspeakable, wicked things to her ass?
Maybe he could spare another half hour? “I can see you covered in maple syrup. Or whipped cream.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Messy, but sounds good. I may be convinced, if you throw in a bubble bath afterward.”
“Deal.” He slid on a dark blue tie, and turned to the full-size mirror to do the knot. This was who he’d been before Becca waltzed into his life in her silly stained overalls and perfect manicure. He’d been Mr. Poised, and she’d been Ms. CrazyPants. Who’d have thought he’d end up head over heels for her—or with her heels by his head within hours of first meeting her outside his company?
She’d told him she was new in town, and asked if he knew a good cocktail bar. In a surprisingly bold move, he’d invited her to dinner at an Italian restaurant
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