Kyle blew a puff of clove-scented smoke out into the rain. He stood on Dave's patio in just the shorts and orange T-shirt he'd been provided. His feet were bare because his socks and combat boots needed to dry.

He shivered in the cool air. At least it appeared the thunder and lightning had moved out of the area.

He'd started smoking clove cigarettes when he turned fourteen. He'd thought about quitting a few times but hadn't really bothered with it. Everyone he'd known smoked, too. Taking another drag on his cigarette, Kyle glanced through the double glass doors into the house. Dave was fussing around in the kitchen, heating food and making hot tea.

No doubt about it, the dude was hot.

Dave looked like a biker. Or Kyle's image of what biker guys looked like anyway. And Kyle had noticed the motorcycle parked in the garage when Dave pulled his truck in.

He had sandy-colored hair that he kept cropped short and spiky on the top. He didn't have a full beard and mustache, but he had stubble. Five o'clock shadow, they called it. It was sexy as hell. Kyle wondered what it would be like to kiss Dave. Rough and bristly, he guessed. And would it scratch on his cock if Dave gave him a blowjob?

Okay, wow, he liked that image, yes, sir. Kyle's cock tented the too big shorts he wore. Man, if Dave hadn't been right there inside, ready to turn around at any time, Kyle would reach in and stroke his shaft right there on the patio.

Instead, he puffed on his cigarette, sucking on the end like he'd like to suck on Dave's cock.

Dave had green eyes. Not fake green contact eyes. But real green, like olive green with gold flecks. His nose was a little crooked, like maybe someone had broken it once. Kyle guessed it would have been when Dave was much younger because with big beefy biceps like Dave had, he couldn't imagine anyone taking him on.

Oh, yeah. Kyle appreciated that muscle T-shirt Dave wore. Wife-beaters, they called them. And freaking six-pack abs, too. He could just imagine Dave bending him over and sticking his...

Ah, geez. Kyle looked down and saw a wet spot on the damn shorts. His too-aroused cock had leaked pre-cum. Was it noticeable? Kyle turned away from staring through the doors at Dave.

Dude was probably not even gay. A guy like that had women beating down the door. In fact, Kyle had half-expected to find some hot little number waiting for Dave when they got to his house. He'd been glad when the house was empty. Which meant exactly nothing. Didn't mean Dave didn't have a girlfriend. Kyle had checked his big, beautiful hands earlier, and he hadn't seen a ring.

Not that it mattered even on the off chance his rescuer was gay. Kyle didn't need another complication in his life. He was already steeped from head to toe in more trouble than he could handle. Adding mind-blowing sex with the hot biker dude ... Well, Kyle shouldn't even be considering it.

He'd always had a thing for bad-boy types.

Not that he thought Dave actually was a bad boy. Kyle figured Dave was more a Boy Scout type or the Lone Ranger coming to the rescue of those oppressed. Or getting the shit beat out of them, anyway. Nah, he seemed pretty squeaky clean.

Damn hot, though.