“Damn, baby. You’re the hottest fucking thing in this place.”
Frankie laughed and leaned back into the tall, muscular body behind him, wiggling his hips against the hard cock he could feel pressing into his ass. There were a lot of hotter-looking guys in the club than him, but Frankie was glad his lover thought he was the sexiest.
Holding Roark’s interest was at the top of Frankie’s priority list.
Detective Anthony Roark was a walking wet dream and Frankie was just lucky enough to be the man the detective was interested in. How that had come about, Frankie would never know, but he also wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If Roark wanted him, the handsome man could have him—for as long as he wanted.
Frankie stifled a groan when he felt Roark’s hands move down his chest to grab his hips. Roark was driving him nuts and had been for hours. Apparently, the man was on a mission to see how long Frankie could hold out before attacking him.
It wouldn’t be long.
They had been dancing for the past two hours. And that was after going out to a romantic dinner together. Frankie knew that they were celebrating their one-year anniversary. He just hadn’t known that Roark would remember it. Most guys didn’t.
After all of the years Frankie had spent trying to find Mr. Right, the sexy detective had fallen into his lap—literally.
Roark had been shot on the job, trying to apprehend a suspect in a bank robbery. He had ended up in Frankie’s emergency room. When Frankie had gone into the exam room to take Roark’s vitals, the man had tried to sit up and almost fell off the bed. Frankie had rushed forward and caught the detective before he could hit the floor. Things had kind of progressed from there.
Frankie was always a little confused about what had prompted Roark to pursue him. He was a male nurse and worked a lot of long hours. He didn’t have a ton of friends—a few—but he also wasn’t a party animal or someone that slept around.
Of course, he had been hit on before and tried to keep things professional between him and Roark, assuming the guy was either high on pain meds or looking for a quick piece of ass. Not too many men that looked like the detective tried to date Frankie.
Roark had seemed to be on a mission though. He started coming by the emergency room more and more often, always seeking Frankie out. After one night when he dropped by the ER to see Frankie, he had cornered him in one of the exam rooms. After kissing Frankie until his head spun, Roark had stolen his cell phone and erased every damn number in there before programming his number in under boyfriend.
Frankie had been pissed for days then amused when Roark started dropping by more and more often, sometimes bringing Frankie dinner. Other times, Roark just brought him flowers. After four weeks of constant attention, and some good-natured razzing from his friends, Frankie had finally given in and agreed to go out on a date with Roark.
The rest was history.
They had dated for the last year, and now they were celebrating. Frankie was pretty sure that Roark was going to ask him to move in. At least, that’s what he was hoping would happen. As it was, he spent more time at Roark’s house than he did his own. It only made sense that they would share an apartment.
And Frankie had no reservations about saying yes. Hell, he’d shout it if need be. He loved Roark, and he knew Roark loved him. They spent all of their free time together and had been a public item to their friends and coworkers for over six months. It was time to move their relationship to the next level.
“We should head home pretty soon, baby,” Roark murmured into Frankie’s ear. Frankie grinned when Roark squeezed his ass. “I want a piece of this tight, little ass before the clock strikes midnight.”
Frankie tilted his head back to peer up into Roark’s smoky gray eyes. “Afraid I’ll turn into a pumpkin?”
Roark’s eyes twinkled in the flashing lights hanging over the dance floor. “Nuh-uh, my fairy godmother promised me that the handsome prince would be mine as long as I claimed him by midnight.”
Roark was a dork, but good god, he was Frankie’s dork. Frankie grinned and grabbed Roark’s hand as he started backing off the dance floor, bumping into more than one person along the way.
“Then I guess we’d better get going before my—ouch.” Frankie frowned as he grabbed his arm right where it met his shoulder. That had hurt. He felt like something had poked him but…“Oh, I don’t feel so good.”
Frankie grabbed his head as his vision started to blur. His stomach was clenching, rolling, trying to rebel. He thought he might actually be sick.
“Roark, I don’t—” Frankie’s tongue thickened like it was swelling in his mouth, making it hard to talk. He slapped his hand over his mouth when his gums started to throb. What the fuck was happening to him?
“Frankie, what’s wrong?”
Frankie tried to lift his eyes to see Roark. The man sounded frantic. But his eyelids felt so heavy. It was an effort to keep them open at all, not that it did him much good. He could barely see out of them as it was. Everything was going hazy and dark, almost a deep gray color.
“Ro–Roark!” Frankie tried to scream, but all he heard was a desperate whimper come out of his mouth as his legs gave out beneath him and he started to slide to the floor. He felt someone catch him and he was pretty sure it was Roark, but he couldn’t be positive.
“Frankie, baby, come on. You can’t leave me.” Roark’s voice had taken on a desperate pitch. “Frankie?”
“Roark,” Frankie whispered as his head rolled back on the man’s arm. “I…what…”
Frankie heard Roark’s anxious cries as his vision darkened. He tried to lift his hand to caress his lover’s cheek, but his arms felt like dead weight—like they were filled with lead. He barely had enough strength to continue breathing.
“Frankie! Frankie, baby,” Roark cried out. “Come on, Frankie. Open your eyes. Come back to me. Frankie!”
“Oh god, baby, you smell so damn good,” Roark whispered against Frankie’s skin as he started nuzzling the skin at his neck. “Missed this so much, baby—missed you.”
Frankie tilted his head back, giving Roark more skin to kiss. He was happily rewarded by the feeling of Roark’s mouth working its way across the bottom of his chin and down his neck to his chest.
Frankie shuddered with increasing arousal and cried out softly as Roark’s lips closed over one of his nipples. The mere touch of Roark’s lips on his skin sent a warming shiver through Frankie. When Roark’s tongue stroked across his taut flesh, Frankie cried out again and gripped Roark’s arms with his hands.
“That’s it, baby,” Roark murmured, his hot breath blowing out over Frankie’s sensitive skin. “Come apart for me.”
Frankie had no problem coming apart for Roark. He felt like it had been a million years since Roark touched him, and a single night, all rolled into one. His skin tingled every time, and everywhere, Roark touched him.
“Roark,” he groaned when the tension in his body began to build.
“I’ve got you, baby.”
So slowly that Frankie wanted to scream, Roark’s hands moved downward, skimming either side of Frankie’s body to his hips. Frankie squirmed beneath Roark, needing more. He almost lost his mind when Roark’s hands slid across his belly before moving around him to caress the curve of his ass.
Frankie’s body ached for Roark’s touch. The anticipation was almost unbearable. And then Roark’s hand slid between Frankie’s ass cheeks and his fingers skimmed over Frankie’s puckered hole.
Frankie reached up and explored the soft lines of Roark’s neck, his waist, his hips. He wanted Roark to come as unglued as he was feeling. Knowing it had been ten years, and that Roark had been searching for him all of that time, made this extra special for Frankie. He wanted to make it special for Roark as well.
The air was sucked from Frankie’s lungs when he felt the tip of Roark’s finger breach him. He suddenly knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it had been ten years for him. The discomfort he felt was instant.
“Shh, baby, give the lube a minute to work.”
Lube? What lube? Frankie didn’t remember Roark opening the damn bottle of lube. He—“Oh my god, what is that?” Frankie gasped as his clenching hole started to heat up and tingle.
Roark chuckled. “Just wait for it.”
“Wait for wha—Roark!” Frankie screeched as he arched and pushed up into the man. His entire body was on fire, from the inside out, but instead of burning him, it was sending waves of pleasure shooting through his body.
“There it is,” Roark whispered.
Frankie suddenly realized that he had three of Roark’s fingers thrusting into his ass. When in the hell had that happened? And why didn’t it hurt? But damned if he was going to complain. Frankie couldn’t remember sex ever feeling this good, even with Roark. And that was saying something because Roark was a master at lovemaking.
Frankie could feel Roark’s heart thudding against his own and knew the man was as ramped up as he was—maybe even more so as Roark had been waiting for this moment for so long.
“Fuck me, Roark,” Frankie demanded as he wove his arms around the man’s neck.
Roark stilled. “Are you sure, Frankie?”
“I’m sure, love.”
Roark kept his eyes on Frankie’s as he pulled his fingers free and moved between Frankie’s thighs. His hands caressed the skin of Frankie’s thighs as he pushed them up to Frankie’s chest.
Roark fumbled around for a moment, tugging at the buttons on his pants as he tried to get them open. Frankie bit his lip to keep from laughing at Roark’s desperation then reached down to help the man. When Roark’s hard cock bounced out of his pants, Frankie gave it a quick stroke before lying back and pulling his legs back up to his chest.
“I’m ready for you, Roark.”
Roark’s eyes glazed as he stared down at the spot where their bodies met. He pressed his cock at Frankie’s tight opening and then slowly pushed inside. Frankie groaned as Roark buried himself as deep inside his ass as possible.
Roark’s body moved to partially cover Frankie’s. He grabbed Frankie’s hands and held them down on either side of Frankie’s head, folding their fingers together. Then Roark started to move, thrusting slowly at first, then moving harder, faster, and deeper.