[Siren Publishing: The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection: Contemporary, Alternative, Paranormal, Shape-shifters, MM, HEA]
Stevie Tucker has found himself in a world of trouble. His father is not only an alcoholic, but apparently a gambler. And not a very good one. When a hitman gets into Stevie’s car and tells him he has two weeks to come up with fifty grand, Stevie is beside himself. He’s had the hots for Quinn O’Brien for weeks now, and the guy just inherited a fortune, but Stevie is determined to keep Quinn out of his problems, until his problems suck Quinn into the mess.
Quinn has never had any luck with dating. He tends to dive in feetfirst and ends up being tossed back onto the shore. He’s interested in Stevie, but wants to take things slow. Unfortunately that isn’t about to happen. He knows the human is in trouble, but Stevie refuses to tell Quinn what’s going on. When Quinn finds out that Stevie is his mate, the kid gloves come off and the real fight begins.
Lynn Hagen is a Siren-exclusive author.
Stevie took a deep breath and started his car. He wasn’t going to let his dad ruin his evening. Cliff would call back. Of that Stevie was sure. His dad didn’t like taking no for an answer and would harass Stevie until he got what he wanted.
Until then Stevie would enjoy his time at O’Brien’s Pub. The place seemed to be a hit since opening a few weeks ago. Nash O’Brien had discovered a gold mine when he’d bought the rundown place. Stevie had helped with the restorations.
As best he could, anyway. Quinn had been the carpenter on the restoration project, and he’d breathed life into the place. Layne had chosen the new design, and it was sleek, modern, and had spoken to the hipster crowd. Nash had provided the financing.
Stevie? He’d been a lowly laborer, but it had been for a good cause, and Nash had paid well. More than Stevie made at the salon.
The parking lot was across the street from the pub. Stevie found a place in the back and hopped out, ready to forget the meeting at work and his dad’s phone call.
He stepped inside to the sound of the overhead speakers playing some Green Day song. The music could be heard but wasn’t loud enough to drown everyone out. There were plenty of people at the bar and some sitting on the couch that had nearly gotten tossed out the window when Layne had had a fit about its location.
Nash was behind the bar slinging drinks, along with Horace, who Nash had hired. If Stevie had known how to throw mixed drinks together, he would’ve had the job instead of his roommate/friend.
Horace’s face lit up as soon as he spotted Stevie.
Then Stevie spotted him. His heart went into overdrive as he watched Quinn carry two cases behind the bar. His muscles flexed as he walked, and damn it, he smiled at the customers, and Stevie was so jealous. Quinn smiled at him the same way, flirtatious and friendly, and why had he friend-zoned Stevie?
Squaring his shoulders, Stevie marched to the bar and found an empty stool. Horace hurried over, a rag over his shoulder. That rag wasn’t for show, either. The guy had OCD to the tenth power. Their house was so sparkling clean that you could literally eat off the floors.
Not that Stevie had tried, but he might’ve been passed out on them a time or two when he’d been stupid dunk. He may have even drooled on them, too.
“What’ll you have?” Horace asked.
“That big beefy brother,” Stevie replied, nodding his head toward Quinn. “But since he doesn’t want me, just give me whatever you have on tap.”
“One big, beefy brother on tap coming right up,” Horace sang out. The prick was teasing him. When Stevie got home, he was going to unmake Horace’s bed. That would throw his friend into a tizzy.
Maybe Stevie would even rearrange the throw pillows on the couch.
“It’s good to see you.”
Stevie lost the ability to breathe when he heard Quinn’s voice behind him. He hadn’t even seen the sexy bastard heading his way. But Stevie felt the guy’s body heat, and damn if he didn’t want to lean into it.
Stevie turned and smiled up at him. “Fancy meeting you here.”
That was the lamest thing he’d ever said. Of course Quinn was there. He worked at the pub.
Quinn laughed, either because he thought Stevie was an idiot or simply teasing him.
When the lady next to Stevie got up and took her drink, along with her girlfriends, over to the couch, Quinn sat in the vacated stool. “Hard day at work?”
“Hard,” Stevie said, but he wasn’t talking about his day. If he threw any more hints at Quinn that he wanted him, Stevie just might knock the man unconscious. His innuendos always seem to fly right over Quinn’s gorgeous head.
“Perfect way to unwind.”
“You don’t have to pitch this pub at me,” Stevie said. “I helped bring it to life.” Even if his help had consisted of throwing things in the dumpster and sweeping. He’d still been a part of the team. Quinn had even given Stevie an extra tool belt of his to wear. The dang thing kept sliding down Stevie’s slim hips, so Quinn had added a new notch to keep it in place.
“Not throwing a pitch at you.” Quinn leaned his muscled arms on the counter. “I was being serious. You’re one of Layne’s best friends, so I consider you like family.”
Freaking fantastic. First it was the friend zone, now “like family.” Stevie’s chance with Quinn was shriveling up faster than his balls. Next the guy would say he considered Stevie “like a brother.”
“So, what’re you doing when you get off?” And the innuendos kept flying.
“Sleeping.” Quinn grinned. “It’ll be three in the morning.”
And they kept going right over his head. Stevie was so over today it wasn’t even funny. His plans of getting laid by Quinn O’Brien had once again failed. He needed to let that fantasy go. It was never going to happen.
Stevie didn’t even say anything when Quinn got up and walked behind the bar to tend to the customers. If Quinn didn’t want what he had to offer, screw him. Or not screw him as the case was.
Quinn enveloped Stevie in his large arms and stared down at him as if Stevie were the only person in the world. The charged air, the chemistry between them, all was too much of a temptation to resist. When Quinn lowered his head, Stevie didn’t turn away, couldn’t force himself to let their time together end.
He wanted Quinn’s lips on him, wanted to taste the man who was willing to put himself in danger in order to keep Stevie safe. Just one kiss. That was all Stevie wanted, needed.
Their lips met just as another clap of thunder crashed in the distance. His first kiss from Quinn, and it was electrifying, stealing Stevie’s very breath.
Quinn’s lips were soft, warm, and his tongue delved deep as Stevie arched his back, moaning from the sheer delight of being kissed by this mountainous man. The passion in that single act had Stevie forgetting all the reasons he should stop Quinn, should back away and go sleep on the couch.
He couldn’t seem to get close enough to Quinn, but damn if Stevie didn’t try. They ended up moving backward, and the next thing Stevie knew, they were falling onto the bed.
No pressure. That was what Quinn had said. But the pressure building inside Stevie was becoming too much. Logic had crashed and burned as he climbed up Quinn’s body, settling on the guy’s hips, sharing a kiss that splintered Stevie’s mind.
Quinn’s hands roamed Stevie’s back, his hair, his sides, touching everywhere until he reached the hem of Stevie’s shirt and lifted it upward. Quinn’s chest was already bare, and Stevie wanted to feel his own skin against…his mate’s.
Those two words had the power to terrify Stevie before. But now they brought comfort, a wash of security that he would take. That he needed and craved at the moment.
Stevie whimpered into Quinn’s mouth when their bare skin touched, when he felt the heat radiating off Quinn and the muscles under his hands. The god-like way Quinn kissed him sent ripples of pleasure through Stevie.
Their denim-covered erections met, grinding, both men groaning, getting lost in each other, and to hell with the consequences. But there wouldn’t be a price to pay.
Stevie still had a little less than two weeks before he could conceive, and why not enjoy that time? That freedom of fucking with abandon without any worries?
After indulging in a few more seconds of that amazing kiss, Stevie broke away and latched onto one of Quinn’s nipples. He settled on Quinn’s thigh, trapping it between his legs, riding the taut muscles while getting himself off.
Quinn hissed, grabbed Stevie’s sides, and steadied him, his intense, lustful gaze watching him.
The thrill shot down Stevie’s spine. He gave the neglected nipple some attention, gently biting, teasing, licking the hard flesh as he kept his gaze locked with Quinn’s.
A tiny part of Stevie’s brain begged him to stop this, to not get a taste of Quinn, because this couldn’t last, and once definitely wouldn’t be enough. Stevie would want more. So much more. But could he quit Quinn in two weeks? Could he deny his mate what they both wanted?
Another sound of crashing thunder. Closer this time. Small pelts of rain hit the window. The sound of the hot Georgia storm spurred Stevie on. He rolled from Quinn and onto his back, shoving at his jeans and underwear.
Quinn helped, peeling the material down Stevie’s legs. He was on his knees, tossing Stevie’s clothes aside. His beefy hand curled around Stevie’s dick, lightly squeezing, rending a gasp from him.
Stevie scooted backward, and Quinn settled between his legs, tossing Stevie’s legs over his shoulder before devouring his cock. Stevie cried out, arched his back, and wiggled his legs as he grabbed fistfuls of Quinn’s hair.
He’d never had anyone bring him so close to orgasm so fast. The crest of his climax was right there, ready to explode. When Quinn wet a finger and worked it into Stevie’s ass, Stevie shouted Quinn’s name, his cum shooting down his mate’s throat.
But Stevie’s cock didn’t soften. It was still rock-hard and ready to play. The beauty of youth. Enjoy it while it lasted, because in five years, from what Stevie had heard, keeping an erection after an orgasm would be damn near impossible.
Stevie squeaked when Quinn rolled him over to his stomach. He spread his legs and waited to see what his mate would do. Quinn parted Stevie’s cheeks and devoured his ass, eating him up as though Stevie were a buffet.
He got to his knees, shoving his ass into Quinn’s face, dying from the sheer pleasure. The storm outside had grown stronger, and so had Stevie’s need to get fucked.
“Right there with you, kitten.” Quinn’s large body covered Stevie’s. The blunt head of his mate’s cock pressed against his hole.
“Got it covered.” Something spurted at Stevie’s ass. The band of muscles began to relax. Stevie gasped, confused, unsure if he should make Quinn stop.
There was no going back. Quinn inched his way inside Stevie, moving back and forth, rocking Stevie’s fucking world as his cock stretched Stevie wide.