Words

by John Inman

  The healthy bulge pooching up the crotch of Bryce’s old trunks didn’t help his blood pressure much either.

  “Wow,” Milo muttered, before he could stop himself.

  LOGAN STOOD there, cautiously accepting the eyes on him and appreciating Milo’s reaction, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

  And he was just as pleased by the man standing in front of him.

  Milo Cook, dressed in trunks of his own, had the sort of body Logan Hunter found most attractive. Lean, golden-hued, lithe. His legs were brushed with blond hair, his chest perfectly delineated but smooth. His waist tapered down from shoulders that were obviously those of a swimmer. His navel was a delicate puncture. Milo sported an appendix scar that looked like it had been there a long time. Probably since childhood. That one pale imperfection was like an accent mark, underscoring the flawlessness of everything else.

  Logan longed to step forward and lay a fingertip to that white strip of scarred flesh. Just to feel the texture of it. To gauge its heat. That longing, that need, all but floored him with its intensity.

  By sheer will, he dragged his gaze up to Milo’s face and was immediately lost in Milo’s green eyes. He allowed himself to float there for a moment in their praise, then pulled himself together.

  “Back to the pool?”

  Milo smiled and nodded. “Sure. You go ahead. I’ll get us another beer.”

  Logan had to squeeze past, since Milo was standing in the doorway. The first contact between his bare torso and Milo’s arm when they brushed past each other sent a surge of hunger clattering through him. For the first time, it was a hunger that had nothing to do with missing Jerry, and everything to do with this man he was with now. With Milo. With Milo Cook.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, before sucking in his breath and squeezing past.

  Stepping out onto the apron of the pool, he groaned at his own stupidity. Sorry? What the hell was he sorry for? Did he sound like an idiot? Worse yet, was he an idiot?

  For lack of a better idea, Logan closed his eyes and allowed himself to tip forward, body as stiff as a board, falling flat into the pool with a tremendous splash. The water, warmed by the sun, melted luxuriously over him, finding every nook and cranny, filling in the contours of his long body like the gentle caress of sleep-warm sheets.

  When he popped his head out of the water and gave himself a shake to clear his vision, he saw Milo standing close-by, laughing at him.

  “That’s the worst dive I’ve ever seen in my life!” Milo laughed, placing two fresh beers at the edge of the pool.

  Logan grinned. “Actually it was more of a faint.” He reached over the lip of the pool and wrapped his fingers around Milo’s ankle, then gave a yank and dragged Milo into the water, where he landed just as ungracefully as Logan had.

  They wrestled below the surface, all arms and legs and bubbles, then shot out of the water, sputtering and laughing and gasping for air.

  Getting his bearings, Logan spun in the pool and found Milo—the water lapping at his chin, his sun-streaked hair dragged down over his eyes and plastered flat, his white teeth shimmering—staring right back at him. Before he knew what was happening, Milo leaped on him, and they both submerged again, playfully wrapped in each other’s arms.

  This time Logan had the presence of mind to concentrate on the feel of Milo next to him, the brushing of their legs together, the warm touch of soft bellies, and for a brief moment, the caress of Milo’s laughing lips over the skin of his forearm when they fought for supremacy under the water.

  When he felt his cock begin to lengthen in the trunks, he pulled back. Slipping gently free from Milo’s tangled limbs, he draped his elbows over the edge of the pool and grabbed one of the beers. He took a long drink while hovering there in the water, his back to the pool. Milo swam up beside him and snatched up his own beer, tilting it back for a long swallow.

  As they drank, elbows touching, they eyed each other, smiling. Logan couldn’t help wondering if Milo knew why he had so quickly pulled away. By the sexy gleam in those incredibly green eyes, Logan suspected Milo knew quite well.

  Logan turned back to look out over the edge of the pool to the beautiful grounds, when he suddenly found a long pink tongue taking a swipe at his nose. Logan jerked back in surprise, only to find a rather large dog standing there in front of him. Must be Spanky. Appearing out of nowhere, the dog now stood at the edge of the pool, his tail going a mile a minute, a doggy grin spread across his happy face. He stepped closer and resumed giving Logan’s face a bath.

  Logan sputtered and laughed, trying to twist his head away from the encroaching tongue.

  Milo giggled beside him and reached out to grip Spanky’s collar, gently dragging the dog in his direction. Wrapping his wet arms around Spanky’s neck, he let the dog bathe him for a while with that worshiping tongue, so as to give his houseguest a break.

  “Where’s he been?” Logan asked, still laughing.

  “He was asleep under my desk. See all the gray on his muzzle? He’s old. He sleeps more than he’s awake.”

  “How many years have you had him?”

  “Quite a few, and he was almost old when I adopted him. It’s not just puppies that need good homes.”

  “Well, he’s friendly.” Logan grinned, still wiping the dog spit off his face.

  “He likes you,” Milo said proudly. “He doesn’t deign to lick just anybody, you know.”

  Logan gave Milo a sidelong glance. He wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, right. He probably licks the mailman, the bug man, Jehovah’s Witnesses, burglars, Girl Scouts schlepping cookies, the guy that reads the meter.”

  Laughing, Milo gave Spanky a kiss between the eyes. “Actually, you’re right. He does.” After giving the dog another smooch and a final hug, he pointed to the chaise lounge over by the fence. “Go take a nap, boy. Go on.”

  Spanky blessed Milo with one more swipe of his adoring tongue, then padded off toward the fence with a slightly arthritic limp, shaking the water from his coat as he went. With a last glance backward, he tucked himself under the chaise out of the sun, gave a broad yawn, and promptly fell fast asleep with his chin on his paws.

  Logan studied him for a minute, then said, “I like him. He doesn’t hold back.”

  “Nope.” Milo grinned. “What you see is what you get.”

  “It was nice of you to adopt an older dog.”

  “Thanks.”

  Logan watched as Milo opened his mouth as if to expound on that, then take another long pull from his beer instead.

  Logan found himself interested in certain other aspects of Milo’s life, and he thought this might be a pretty good time to do some snooping. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to know. He just did.

  “Were you in this house when you lived with Bryce?” he asked.

  Milo nodded. “Yeah, I had bought it just before we met. When we first moved in together, it was in this house. It was new to both of us, just like we were new to each other.”

  “Do you miss him?” Logan asked.

  Milo shook his head. “No. Bryce was sexy as hell, and he could have his kind moments. But overall, he was a bit of a dick. For one thing, he couldn’t open his mouth without lying. Even if it was something inconsequential, he seemed to feel he had to lie about it. Make it more interesting. Make it more grand. I never quite understood why he couldn’t be the writer he wanted to be. God knows he had the imagination for it.”

  Logan watched as Milo’s eyes grew pensive.

  “Still, like I said, he had his good qualities. He was terrific in bed, for one thing. That’s a pretty good quality to have.”

  Logan smiled. “Indubitably.”

  “Unfortunately, he was good in bed with a lot of people, not just me. When I found out, I dumped him.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Milo shrugged. “Now for loyalty, I have Spanky. Aside from licking the occasional houseguest, he’s never cheated on me once.”

  Logan grinned and made a kissy face at the dog. “What a g
ood boy,” he cooed. Spanky opened one eye, then promptly closed it again, while Milo laughed.

  An evening breeze slipped through the palm trees, dove over the fence, and skimmed the water, ruffling their wet heads.

  Milo shivered. “Damn, it’s getting cold.”

  Logan snorted. “It must be sixty-five degrees.”

  “Yeah. Like I said. Cold.”

  Logan rolled his eyes, bopped Milo gently on the shoulder with a balled-up fist, and squinted his way into a mocking grin. “It’s funny. You don’t look like a weenie.”

  Milo narrowed his eyes. “Oh, really.”

  Carefully placing his beer on the concrete out of the way, he dove headfirst at Logan, dragging him under the water yet again while Logan’s beer bottle flew out into the middle of the pool and sank like a rock. After they rolled around in the water for a minute, gagging and choking, Milo slipped out of Logan’s clenches and dove deep to retrieve the bottle. Happily it hadn’t broken when it settled to the bottom.

  While Milo was underwater, Logan pulled himself out of the pool and raced to the kitchen to grab two more beers from the fridge. Might as well make himself at home. And seeing as he was, he also took a minute to grab a fistful of paper towels off the counter and wipe up the trail of pool water he’d dribbled across Milo’s kitchen floor.

  When he went back outside, Milo was once again hanging by his elbows at the edge of the pool, watching him.

  “Don’t be shy,” Milo said. “Help yourself to a beer.”

  Logan smirked and waved the bottles in front of him, then placed them carefully before Milo on the concrete. “I did. Mind if I cannonball?”

  “No, I—”

  Logan sprang over Milo’s head, hugging his knees. He landed with a horrific splash that all but swept Milo out of the pool. Even Spanky lifted his head to see what the hell was going on.

  When Logan emerged, blowing water out of his nose and giggling like a kid, Milo groaned. “And here I thought you were an adult.”

  Not to be outdone, Milo climbed out of the pool, hitched up his shorts, and spun around to launch himself out over the water just as Logan had. He landed flat on his back with a smack that sounded like it hurt. Still, he came up sputtering with laughter.

  Logan swam over and spun Milo around as he treaded water. He ran his hands over Milo’s back, which was bright red from the impact. He found himself gently brushing the red skin with his fingertips and saying quietly, “That must have stung.”

  Milo paddled in the water, propelling himself around until he faced Logan. They floated there so close together their chests were almost touching. Logan’s hands still reached around to Milo’s back, holding him in place.

  “Sorry,” Milo said, his gaze suddenly soft and thoughtful. “I can’t resist.” Still treading water, Milo paddled closer and laid a gentle kiss on Logan’s lips.

  Logan’s eyes opened wide in surprise; then he felt them closing of their own accord, blocking out the world completely as he let himself be drawn into the kiss.

  When Milo eased away and spread his hand across Logan’s chest, his thumb came to rest on Logan’s nipple as if by accident. Logan stared wordlessly into the face before him. Milo’s lips were still moist, either from the pool or the kiss. Logan couldn’t be sure which. He licked his own lips and tasted Milo yet again. A flame seemed to kindle in Milo’s eyes as he floated there, still in Logan’s arms, staring back. His breath brushed over Logan’s face, smelling warmly of beer.

  Before he could stop himself, Logan asked, “Do you think we’re rushing things?”

  Milo frowned, but his hand never left Logan’s chest. “It doesn’t feel that way to me.”

  Logan lifted his hand and caressed Milo’s cheek. Milo pulled back and looked at it.

  “Didn’t you use to wear a ring on this hand?”

  Logan nodded. “Yes. I… I didn’t want to wear it tonight.”

  Milo’s eyes bore deep into his. “It was a wedding ring, wasn’t it? You and Jerry were married.”

  Logan glanced at the pale band of flesh that the ring had left behind. His fingers were starting to prune from being in the pool so long. “Yes.” He gazed back into Milo’s green eyes. “Were you and Bryce?”

  Milo jumped. “What, married? God no. Sometimes I think we were barely lovers.” His eyes grew serious, as if he suddenly understood something. “I’m sorry, Logan. Being here with me, please tell me you’re, you know, comfortable. That you don’t feel like you’re cheating on Jerry’s memory.”

  The question shocked Logan, but only because he was asking himself the same thing. “No, I…. Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “I’m not rushing you. Please don’t think that.”

  Logan nodded, lost in wonder as he stared yet again into Milo’s eyes. There was something about the color of them that drew him in. He had never in his life seen eyes quite so green. “I don’t think that,” he said, resurrecting a smile.

  Milo lifted his hand from Logan’s chest and laid it across his own. A teasing grin twisted his mouth. “Uh-oh. I can’t stand it when you look at me like that with those gorgeous hazel eyes. I think I’m going into arrhythmic shock. I could die from that, you know.”

  “You can die from a lot of things,” Logan said quietly, eyes bright, still stroking Milo’s cheek.

  Milo lifted his hand to Logan’s face and caressed it in return.

  “Spend the night,” Milo whispered. “Please.”

  Logan was touched by the way Milo spoke the words. Touched and turned on. Once again he felt his cock lengthening, growing erect. Logan hesitated, but his eyes never left Milo’s face. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone. Not since Jerry… left.”

  “It’s like riding a bicycle. It’ll come back to you.”

  Logan offered a tiny smile. “So I’ve heard.”

  “I can do all the pedaling, if you like.”

  Logan grinned. “No, I think I can hold my own.”

  A drop of water gathered at the end of Milo’s nose, and Logan laid his thumb to it, wiping it away before it could fall.

  Beneath the pool’s surface, Milo’s other hand stroked Logan’s waist. Their legs brushed together as they lazily paddled to stay afloat in the crystal-blue water. Lingeringly, Milo’s hand slid across Logan’s stomach and dipped beneath the waistband of his trunks. When Milo’s fingers circled Logan’s iron cock, Logan closed his eyes and tilted his head back with a groan.

  Milo drew closer and pressed his mouth to Logan’s throat, causing Logan to buck against him, pulling him closer.

  “I’ve never slept with a reviewer before,” Milo gasped, his tongue doing a taste test on Logan’s Adam’s apple. “No matter how badly I bungle this, I’ll expect four stars at least.”

  “I’ll try to be generous with my critique.”

  “Wiseass.”

  Logan’s lips parted as he pulled Milo closer, lifting him in the water at the same time. He dipped his head into the crook of Milo’s neck and laid his lips there, tasting the man for the first time in what was other than a kiss. Discounting the chlorine, Milo’s flesh was a delicious mixture of sweet and salty. Logan squeezed his eyes shut, savoring the flavor, the scent, the heat. The satin softness of Milo’s skin. His own hand slid down the back of Milo’s trunks and dipped into the warm crevice of flesh he found there beneath the fabric. It was Milo’s turn to arch against him at the touch. His legs came up and wrapped around Logan’s waist. Milo’s erect cock, trapped inside his trunks, pressed against Logan’s belly.

  Logan felt an old familiar fire burning inside him. It was a fire that had been absent far too long from his life. “My God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, his lips on Milo’s throat now, a lone fingertip resting lightly on Milo’s opening as he cradled him in the water. “Take me to your bed, Milo. Please.”

  Milo’s mouth found Logan’s and kissed away the words. “Yes,” he gasped. “Yes.”

  Together, they climbed from the pool. Beers forgotten, Milo snat
ched up a humongous beach towel from one of the chaise lounges and wrapped it around them. Their fingers woven together, their hearts pounding, Milo led Logan silently into the house.

  Spanky opened his eyes and watched them go, then slowly sank back into dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  HOURS LATER, with the house steeped in darkness, Logan opened his eyes. The first sensation he experienced was the taste of Milo’s sweet juices still sleeping on his tongue. The second sensation was the mingled scent of their two bodies, as if a residue had been left on the air from their lovemaking that yet permeated Milo’s lightless bedroom.

  Logan turned his head to gaze down through the shadows at Milo, who lay snuggled against his side, one hand resting lightly atop Logan’s stomach, his face pressed into Logan’s armpit where his breathing tickled the hair there. It was that tickling breath that had woken Logan. That and Milo’s grumbly, leonine snore.

  The sudden awareness of Milo’s sleek naked body pressed against him sent a surge of contentment rushing through Logan that was so powerful it almost stopped his breath. Milo’s leg lay draped over his own, Milo’s leg hair bristling softly against his skin. Against his hip, Logan could feel Milo’s cock, it too sleeping now. Spent. At rest.

  Logan’s arm was asleep because he had it twisted up behind his head in lieu of a pillow, which Logan remembered tossing to the floor earlier in the night because it was getting in the way as the two of them made love. Stifling a groan, trying to ignore the pins and needles as blood rushed back into his starving arteries, he straightened his arm out enough to carefully drape it around Milo’s head. Resting his hand lightly against the smooth skin of Milo’s back, he relished the silky texture of it beneath his fingertips. Somehow it was thrilling, and a little bit erotic, to know Milo was unaware of Logan’s touch as he lay there at his side lost in sleep.

  Logan smiled and, tilting his head down a little more, lightly pressed his lips into Milo’s tousled hair. The scents he encountered there sent a dozen other memories clamoring through his sleep-addled brain. Milo’s delicious cock, pulsing with desire, spilling come between Logan’s lips. Milo’s warm mouth teasing the come from his own at the same time. Logan crying out at their moment of simultaneous release. Not just because it was perfect, but because it had been so very, very long since he had shared that experience with anyone.