by L. A. Witt
More than anything, that part hit me in the gut. “My God, I am so sorry.”
“You couldn’t have known what I was dealing with,” he said softly.
“But apparently we both know what it’s like to be burned for who we are. Maybe we have more common ground than I thought.”
“Maybe.” Darren held my gaze. “My beliefs aren’t going to change. And I don’t want yours to change either. You’re not a project for me, Seth. I didn’t look at you in the beginning and think, ‘This guy’s great except for one or two things that I’ll fix later.’” He paused. “But if we’re going to take this forward, then that has to go both ways.”
I slipped my hand into his. “I wouldn’t try to change you either. I don’t want anything about you to change. Honestly, I don’t. I was just….”
“Scared?”
“Yeah.” I ran my thumb back and forth along his hand. “I am so sorry, Darren.”
“You were trying to protect yourself.” He squeezed my hand. “I can’t really hold that against you.” He put his other hand on top of ours. “All I can ask you to do is have faith in me.”
I swallowed hard, my stomach fluttering and my throat constricting. Just knowing he still had faith in me after I’d hurt him like that was overwhelming as hell. Hearing him ask me to have that in him—and wondering how I’d ever thought I couldn’t—was… more than I could process.
“Talk to me, Seth,” he said.
“I’m not good at putting a lot of faith into anything.” I touched his face and drew him closer. “But I think I can make an exception for you.”
His whole body relaxed. “Thank you.”
“Just so you know,” I whispered, touching my forehead to his, “this scares the hell out of me.”
“I know.” His hand slid around the back of my neck. “Me too.”
With that, he kissed me. He wasn’t so aggressive this time. His kiss was almost tentative. Bordering on delicate. Maybe he wanted to savor it, maybe he was afraid even the slightest push would break this spell. He wasn’t so aggressive, and neither was I, but that didn’t make the long kiss any less arousing.
When we finally came up for air, we were both breathless.
I combed my fingers through his hair. “So how opposed are you to getting carried away like we did the first night?”
Darren’s lips curved against mine. “Not opposed at all.”
“Good.”
Chapter Fourteen
I COULDN’T say for certain how we made it from the living room into my bedroom. There was kissing—that intense kissing I’d only ever experienced with Darren—and stumbling and touching, and somehow, at the end of that, there was a bed, and then we were on that bed.
We got as far as taking off our shoes and Darren’s jacket, but didn’t bother with anything else. Still fully dressed, we just tangled up in each other and made out. His body heat radiated through our clothes and onto my skin. He was on top, which left my hands free, and I couldn’t stop touching his face. Combing my fingers through his hair, sliding my hand across the soft beard on his sharp jaw, just touching him and memorizing his features like I hadn’t felt them in years. I couldn’t begin to give a damn about getting his clothes off.
But the longer we kissed and held on to each other, the tighter our grasps became. The more handfuls of clothing got in the way. The more we slipped hands under shirts and swore at belts and zippers and thick layers of denim.
He broke the kiss. “We didn’t…. We have condoms left, don’t we?”
“Plenty.”
“Good.”
I grinned. “Are you suggesting I should get one?”
“I don’t think ‘suggesting’ is quite a strong enough word.”
That was all I needed. The clothes came off faster than I’d thought possible. Maybe something ripped or snapped, but oh well. And as soon as we were both completely naked, I sat up to put on the condom. I was tempted to lay him out on the bed again and kiss him, but that would just keep us from what we both wanted. Fuck foreplay.
Finally the condom was on, and so was the lube, and Darren couldn’t wait any more than I could. He dragged me down on top of him. I thought I even heard him curse a few times in between breathless kisses.
I sat up, and he spread his legs for me. He took me easily, moaning and shivering as I pushed a little deeper with every stroke.
“Faster,” he whispered. “Please.”
“Exactly what I wanted to hear,” I said, and fucked him faster. Harder.
Darren’s back arched and his eyes screwed shut. God, he was gorgeous like this. Naked. Shaking. Sweat rolling down his temple.
I gritted my teeth and thrust harder. I couldn’t fuck him fast enough, couldn’t get deep enough inside him.
Then his eyes flew open. He licked his lips and, a second later, pushed himself up on one elbow, threw the other arm around me, and pulled me down into a kiss.
I touched my forehead to his, hot sweaty skin against hot sweaty skin, and the only thing that kept me from kissing him again was the desperate need for air. I could barely breathe, and just kept fucking him hard and fast anyway and didn’t care if I passed out. Muscles burned and quivered from exertion, but they did what they were supposed to, and when Darren whispered against my lips, “Don’t stop, Seth,” I didn’t give a damn about aches or fatigue or anything that wasn’t fucking him all the way to an orgasm.
His hand slipped off my neck. He reached back to grab the headboard, eyes closed and skin flushed, and I groaned as I gave him everything I had.
The very first shudder of his orgasm set mine off; his own semen dotted his abs as I took a few final, desperate, uneven thrusts inside him until my shaking arms almost gave out beneath me. I tried to stay up, but when Darren wrapped his arms around me, I gave up and collapsed over him.
I pulled out but didn’t get up, and for a while, he just held me that way, stroking my hair while we both caught our breath.
I got up long enough to get rid of the condom and then slipped into bed beside him again. Naturally, now that the dust had settled, nerves and apprehension quickly tried to work their way back in and kill the moment.
I propped myself up on my arm and touched his face, running my thumb along the edge of his short beard. “You’re sure about this. About us.”
Darren nodded. “Yeah. I am. Are you?”
“Yeah. And I’m sorry. For putting you in the same box as my family.”
“I can’t blame you for being scared. I’m sorry I flipped out over it.”
“I think I’d have done the same thing.” I brushed a few strands of dark hair out of his face. “You know this could still—”
“Any relationship can fail.” He ran his hand down my forearm. “But it’s good today. It’ll probably still be good tomorrow.” One shoulder rose slightly. “After that, we’ll just see how it goes. I know you’re a package deal. I knew from the beginning that if I was with you, then I was with an atheist. And I don’t want to change that.” He raised his eyebrows. “All I ask is you accept that what you see is what you get with me too.”
“I meant what I said.” I caressed his face with the backs of my fingers. “That there’s nothing I’d change about you.”
“Likewise,” he said, and pulled me down to kiss him.
A soft meow was our only warning before the cat launched himself onto the bed beside us, narrowly missing Darren’s arm with his claws.
“Really, cat?” I said. “Right now?”
Darren laughed. “Way to ruin the moment, kitty.” He reached toward Stanley, but the cat just gave him a disgusted look before leaping off the bed again. “Was it something I said?”
I shrugged. “Probably just pissed about earlier.”
“Earlier?”
“Yeah. He, um, hates it when people argue. I’ll have to beg his forgiveness with treats later on.” I smoothed Darren’s hair. “For now, though, I could go for a shower. You?”
“Yeah, me too.” He lifted his
head off the pillow as he reached for me, and just before he kissed me, added, “In a minute.”
This wasn’t how I’d envisioned my love life turning out. The last place I’d ever seen myself was in a relationship with—in a bed with—a Christian, never mind a minister.
But I’d been wrong. And tonight I couldn’t see myself anywhere but here.
I couldn’t see myself anywhere but with Darren.
Because this was where I belonged.
Welcome to Tucker Springs
A Tucker Springs Novel
Welcome to Tucker Springs, Colorado, where you’ll enjoy beautiful mountain views and the opportunity to study at one of two prestigious universities—if you can afford to live there.
Jason Davis is in pain. Still smarting from a bad breakup, he struggles to pay both halves of an overwhelming mortgage and balance the books at his floundering business. As if the emotional and financial pain weren’t enough, the agony of a years-old shoulder injury keeps him up at night. When he faces a choice between medication and insomnia, he takes a friend’s advice and gives acupuncture a try.
Acupuncturist Michael Whitman is a single dad striving to make ends meet, and his landlord just hiked the rent. When new patient Jason, a referral from a mutual friend, suggests a roommate arrangement could benefit them both, Michael seizes the opportunity.
Getting a roommate might be the best idea Jason’s ever had—if it weren’t for his attraction to Michael, who seems to be allergic to wearing shirts in the house. Still, a little unresolved sexual tension is a small price to pay for pain and financial relief. He’ll keep his hands and feelings to himself since Michael is straight… isn’t he?
A Tucker Springs Novel
Paul Hannon flunked out of vet school. His fiancée left him. He can barely afford his rent, and he hates his house. About the only things he has left are a pantry full of his ex’s kitchen gadgets and a lot of emotional baggage. He could really use a win—and that’s when he meets El.
Pawnbroker El Rozal is a cynic. His own family’s dysfunction has taught him that love and relationships lead to misery. Despite that belief, he keeps making up excuses to see Paul again. Paul, who doesn’t seem to realize that he’s talented and kind and worthy. Paul, who’s not over his ex-fiancée and is probably straight anyway. Paul, who’s so blind to El’s growing attraction, even asking him out on dates doesn’t seem to tip him off.
El may not do relationships, but something has to give. If he wants to keep Paul, he’ll have to convince him he’s worthy of love—and he’ll have to admit that attachment might not be so bad after all.
A Tucker Springs Novel
Sometimes you have to get dirty to come clean.
When muscle-bound Denver Rogers effortlessly dispatches the frat boys harassing grad student Adam Ellery at the Tucker Springs laundromat, Adam’s thank-you turns into impromptu sex over the laundry table. The problem comes when they exchange numbers. What if Adam wants to meet again and discovers Denver is a high-school dropout with a learning disability who works as a bouncer at a local gay bar? Or what if Denver calls Adam only to learn while he might be brilliant in the lab, outside of it he has crippling social anxiety and obsessive-compulsive disorder?
Either way, neither of them can shake the memory of their laundromat encounter. Despite their fears of what the other might think, they can only remember how good the other one feels. The more they get together, the kinkier things become. They’re both a little bent, but in just the right ways.
Maybe the secret to staying together isn’t to keep things clean and proper. Maybe it’s best to keep their laundry just a little bit dirty.
More from L.A. Witt
A Wrench Wars Story
Everyone at Jim Irving’s garage is gung ho about Wrench Wars, a new reality show featuring mechanics. Everyone, that is, except talented mechanic Chandler Scott, the sole employee who has refused to sign the contract. The rest of the mechanics are pressuring him too, because without Chandler—and his volatile interactions with his boss—no one’s getting on the show.
Chandler’s one ally is Jim’s son, Mark, who’s being forced to work for his dad until he pays down his student loans or finds a better job—and who’s been Chandler’s secret lover for a while.
Then a playful tryst in the garage blows up in their faces, giving the network ammo to blackmail Chandler by threatening to out Mark to his father. Now Chandler is backed into a corner, and Mark needs to decide how far he’s willing to go to protect the man who’s been sharing his bed… and may have stolen his heart.
A Wrench Wars Story
When Reggie’s garage became part of a popular reality show, business went through the roof. And he supposes having his shop in the black is a fair trade for jumping through the network’s hoops.
As the show’s lowest-ranking producer, Wes is tasked with proposing a new spin-off show to Reggie. The sexy mechanic makes him sweat on a normal day, but this time, Wes is holding cards he can’t show. With execs breathing down his neck, he’s expected to pitch a show Reggie will never agree to do, even if his rejection puts his existing show on the line. The network is counting on Reggie refusing to sign. But they’re not counting on their messenger falling for the man they’re trying to fire.
Readers love the Tucker Springs series
Where Nerves End
“Warm and fuzzies, right here! I really enjoyed this!”
—Divine Magazine
“The writing and the story line were crisp and concise. The main characters were intriguing and fun, plus the introduction of additional great characters means the next book in the series should be just as good.”
—Rainbow Book Reviews
Second Hand
“I loved this book and am so glad I got to spend time with El and Paul.”
—Diverse Reader
“This was an enjoyable read with a very satisfying happily ever after. I loved seeing Paul come into his own and choose El above all others.”
—Open Skye Book Reviews
L.A. WITT is an abnormal M/M romance writer who has finally been released from the purgatorial corn maze of Omaha, Nebraska, and now spends her time on the southwestern coast of Spain. In between wondering how she didn’t lose her mind in Omaha, she explores the country with her husband, several clairvoyant hamsters, and an ever-growing herd of rabid plot bunnies. She also has substantially more time on her hands these days, as she has recruited a small army of mercenaries to search South America for her nemesis, romance author Lauren Gallagher, but don’t tell Lauren. And definitely don’t tell Lori A. Witt or Ann Gallagher. Neither of those twits can keep their mouth shut….
Website: www.gallagherwitt.com
Email: [email protected]
By L.A. Witt
Rules of Engagement • Rain
TUCKER SPRINGS
Where Nerves End
By Marie Sexton and Heidi Cullinan: Second Hand
By Heidi Cullinan: Dirty Laundry
Covet Thy Neighbor
WRENCH WARS
Last Mechanic Standing
By Marie Sexton: Normal Enough
Wrenches, Regrets, & Reality Checks
By Marie Sexton: Making Waves
With Marie Sexton: Wrench Wars Anthology
Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
Published by
DREAMSPINNER PRESS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Covet Thy Neighbor
© 2019 L.A. Witt
Cover Art
© 2019 Reese Dante
http://www.reesedante.com
Cover content is for illu
strative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.
Digital ISBN: 978-1-64080-905-5
Mass Market Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64108-128-3
Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64080-906-2
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018966297
Digital published May 2019
v. 2.0
First Edition published by Riptide Publishing, March 2013.
Printed in the United States of America
