STORY EXCERPT

“Maybe this week was just a fluke,” Zack muttered on his way to table four, or was it table two? Whatever number it was wanted pancakes, which Zack had already delivered to table seven—or was that nine?—where a retired couple was now staring at them with polite confusion but were too kind to say so immediately.

“I am so sorry.” He collected the plates from the couple with a smile, hoping it appeared genuine rather than showing the anxiety currently taking up residence behind his ribs. “These belong to someone else. Let me get your oatmeal and toast.”

“Oh, don’t fuss, honey,” the woman said, which was genuinely nice of her, and made Zack feel even worse. “And we ordered omelets, not oatmeal.”

“Right. Eggs.” Crap. He cut back through the diner toward the pass-through, narrowly avoiding a collision with Jace, who sidestepped him with the practiced ease of someone who had been navigating this floor for longer than a week.

“That’s three,” Jace said, not unkindly.

“I’m aware of the count,” Zack lied.

Hash It Out was the kind of diner that looked like it had always existed, like it had simply grown out of the ground one morning fully formed, with its black-and-white tile floor and rows of vinyl stools along the counter. The booths were worn in a way that suggested affection rather than neglect.

It was a good place to work. Zack had decided that on day one, and nothing that had happened since had changed his mind, including the current morning he was having.

In under twenty minutes he’d misrouted three orders and Axel, who owned the place, was watching from behind the counter.

Your constant eagle eye is only stressing me out even more than I already am.

“Eggs are up,” Axel called out.

“Got it.” Zack grabbed the plates, double-checked the table number he’d written on his pad, triple-checked it, and delivered them to the correct people, who thanked him. A man in a flannel shirt at the counter had laughed when his coffee went to the wrong seat. A woman with two small children hadn’t bothered looking up from the chaos of her own table when Zack had quietly swapped her order out.

He’d discovered that people were mostly decent about his mistakes. That was the thing about small-town diners. Everyone was too caffeinated and too hungry to hold a grudge.

At least, Zack really hoped that was true.

He refilled two coffees, took a new order from a teenager who wanted a breakfast sandwich with no tomato and extra cheese, and wrote it down with the grim concentration of someone determined not to invent a fourth breakfast by accident.

The bell above the door chimed as he was heading back toward the pass-through.

Zack glanced back automatically.

The man who walked in was flat-out gorgeous. Not movie-star gorgeous. Worse. The kind of gorgeous that made your brain briefly forget what it had been doing.

The stranger moved like he had all the time in the world, broad shoulders stretching a gray T-shirt in ways that should probably be illegal before noon.

Zack wiped his mouth to confirm he wasn’t actually drooling.

That jawline alone had to have been carved by the gods. And the close-cropped black hair looked soft enough that Zack’s fingers itched to test the theory.

For, say, an hour. Maybe two.

The guy’s eyes made a quick sweep of the diner before he slid into the empty booth by the wall.

Zack stood frozen at the pass-through with his order pad clutched to his chest.

Do not sigh dreamily.

Do not sigh dreamily.

Then it hit him.

The stranger had sat in his section.

I have to actually talk to him.

Zack looked down at the order pad, heat creeping up his neck.

You’re taking his order, not proposing marriage. Just breathe. Not so deep you pass out, though. That would be worse.

After one last internal pep talk, Zack forced his feet to move toward the booth, wondering exactly how spectacularly he was about to ruin this man’s breakfast.

“Morning.” He poised his pen over the pad, determined to get the order right. “Coffee?”

The guy looked up from his menu, and Zack felt momentarily lost in those pretty brown eyes.

“Please.”

Zack blinked several times before he could finally look away.

Sure, the stranger was gorgeous. Ridiculously so. But not enough to make Zack’s brain short-circuit like this.

He really needed to get out more.

Even though it had only been one word, Zack wrote it down carefully and turned to leave, only for his hip to bump the edge of the table.

The impact sounded much louder than it actually was. The table rattled, the salt shaker tipped, and the menu tried to make a break for freedom.

Zack caught the menu with one hand while his pen slipped from the other, hit the floor, and rolled under the booth.

“Sorry,” he squeaked. “The table is closer than it looks. I'll, over there, your coffee.”

First he had to retrieve his pen.

Crouching down, he reached under the booth, then slowly realized he was kneeling at the man’s feet.

Face level with his crotch.

Oh god.

Zack didn’t bother looking around. He could feel every pair of eyes in the diner laser-focused on him.

Even the background noise seemed to dip, like the whole room was holding its breath.

ADULT EXCERPT

“No tickling!” Zack laughed as he tried to get away, but Colton grabbed him and pulled him back.

“Where do you think you’re going, Blue?” Colton nuzzled Zack’s neck.

Nowhere else he’d rather be. Warm skin pressed against his back, solid muscle that made every bad memory feel distant and unimportant. Craig had been dead for two weeks now, and sometimes Zack still woke expecting to find bruises, expecting threats. Instead, he found Colton’s arms around him, that cedar-and-leather scent that meant safety.

“Got you,” Colton murmured against his ear, breath warm and teasing.

Fingertips traced lazy patterns across Zack’s stomach, each touch sending sparks through already sensitive skin. Morning light filtered through the blinds, painting gold stripes across tangled sheets and bare limbs. Everything felt softer in this light—the curve of Colton’s bicep, the dark hair dusting his forearms, even the possessive grip keeping Zack pressed back against him.

Turning in those arms took effort, but Zack managed it, ending up face-to-face with brown eyes that had gone dark with want. Colton’s mouth curved into that slow, predatory smile that never failed to make heat pool in Zack’s belly.

“Morning, gorgeous.” That rumbling voice sent vibrations through everywhere they touched.

Instead of answering, Zack traced the ridge of Colton’s collarbone with one finger, following the line down to where muscle bunched and shifted. Skin like warm silk over steel, impossible and perfect. A soft growl escaped when Zack’s nail scraped lightly across one nipple.

“Careful,” Colton warned, but his hands were already sliding down to grip Zack’s ass, pulling their hips flush together.

Both of them were already hard, cocks brushing with each tiny movement. Zack rolled his hips experimentally, watched Colton’s eyes flutter closed for a heartbeat. Power rushed through him—this massive, dangerous man coming undone from such a simple touch.

Ducking his head, Zack pressed his mouth to Colton’s throat, tasting salt and musk. Teeth scraped along the tendon there, not quite biting, just enough pressure to make Colton’s breath catch. Those big hands tightened on his ass, fingers digging in.

“Gonna drive me crazy,” Colton growled, tilting his head to give better access.

“That's the plan.” Zack sucked a mark into the skin, dark and obvious, claiming.

Everything shifted in one smooth motion. Suddenly Zack found himself on his back, Colton looming over him, all that muscle blocking out the morning light. Brown eyes had gone almost black, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“My turn.”

Before Zack could respond, Colton’s mouth crashed into his. Nothing gentle about this kiss—tongues battled, teeth caught lips, desperate sounds spilling between them. Colton kissed like he fought, with total focus and devastating skill. One hand tangled in Zack’s hair, holding him exactly where Colton wanted him, while the other mapped every inch of available skin.

Breaking away to breathe felt like surfacing from deep water. Both of them panted, lips swollen and slick. Colton didn’t give him time to recover, just started working his way down Zack’s throat with open-mouthed kisses that left wet trails cooling in the morning air.

“Love these,” Colton murmured against his collarbone, tongue tracing the hollow there. “Love how sensitive you are here.”

Proof came immediately when teeth grazed that spot and Zack’s entire body arched off the bed. A whimper escaped before he could bite it back, hands flying up to grip Colton’s shoulders. Muscle bunched and released under his palms, powerful and controlled.

Lower now, Colton’s mouth found a nipple. First just breath, warm and teasing, making the bud tighten in anticipation. Then the flat of his tongue, slow circles that had Zack squirming. When teeth finally closed around it, tugging gently, Zack cried out.

“That's it,” Colton encouraged, switching to the other side. “Let me hear you, Blue.”

Impossible not to when every touch felt electric. Colton worked him over with patient dedication, learning exactly what pressure made Zack gasp, what rhythm made his hips buck. By the time that wicked mouth reached his navel, Zack was trembling.

“Please,” he gasped, fingers twisted in the sheets.

“Please what?” Colton’s breath ghosted over his cock, so close but not touching. “Tell me what you want.”

“Your mouth. Want your mouth on me.”

A pleased rumble vibrated against his inner thigh where Colton pressed a kiss. “Since you asked so nicely.”

First contact was just the tip of Colton’s tongue against the head of his cock, barely there, collecting the bead of precum that had gathered. Zack’s hips jerked, seeking more, but strong hands pressed them back down.

“Stay still for me, sweetheart.”

Easier said than done when Colton’s mouth finally wrapped around him, hot and wet and perfect. No teasing now, just steady suction as he took Zack deeper. That talented tongue did something incredible on the underside, some swirling motion that made stars burst behind Zack’s eyelids.

“Fuck, your mouth,” Zack babbled, one hand flying to Colton’s hair. “So good, so fucking good.”

Encouragement made Colton work harder. He pulled back to suck just the head, tongue playing with the slit, before sliding all the way down until his nose pressed against Zack’s pelvis. The sight alone—Colton’s lips stretched around him, those brown eyes looking up through dark lashes—nearly ended everything right there.

“Not gonna last,” Zack warned, tugging at Colton’s hair.

Instead of pulling off, Colton doubled down. One hand came up to roll Zack’s balls, gentle pressure that shot straight through him. The other wrapped around the base of his cock, working in tandem with that incredible mouth. Wet sounds filled the room, obscene and perfect.