Reclusive artist Rufus Ward’s house needs repair, but he hates demolition and dust. However, when handyman Harry Hande rings his doorbell, Rufus lets him in. He’s everything the famous painter likes in a man: young, sexy, and somewhat confused about his sexuality. Rufus thought he was done with dating, but Harry is hot enough to push him from loneliness into love.
Harry’s sensible demeanor disguises desperation. His brother is a jerk and he needs to move out, but his fledgling business isn’t quite ready to support him. Rufus is supposed to be just another client, but when they meet, all of Harry’s preconceived notions of attraction are demolished. Lust launches him into the dare of a lifetime. Will letting Rufus draw him nude destroy him, or will his true nature come out?
Be Warned: m/m sex
“No, don’t be sorry. I started it when I flirted with you. I shouldn’t have flown off the handle.” Rufus flicked his pencil across the floor. “And now I’ve killed the mood entirely.”
Harry took a deep breath. “Not entirely.” His heart banged against his ribs. He felt like he was in a fast car driving for the edge of a cliff.
Rufus looked at him. “Oh?”
Harry lifted a shoulder. “I was curious. And I’m kind of being an ass because I had a weird day. That’s on me.”
“Hmm.” Rufus narrowed his eyes. “Are you still curious?” He stood up.
Harry stared at him. How could one man suddenly look so much bigger? He dropped his eyes nervously, fixing his gaze on a small hole in his jeans near his knee. He really should retire this pair. It would be bad to give clients the wrong impression if they thought he didn’t care about his appearance…
“Curious enough to play?”
Rufus’s voice was much closer. God, grow a pair, Harry. He forced himself to look up. The artist he’d admired for years stood right next to his chair. Loomed, actually. Rufus’s crotch was at face level and Harry knew that bulge was every bit as real as his own impossible-to-ignore erection.
“Yeah,” he said, looking up Rufus’s body.
The artist smiled at him, green eyes darkening. “Touch me. No more screwing around.”
Harry frowned. “What?”
Rufus dropped to his knees and put both hands on Harry’s thighs. “Touch me.”
Harry almost stopped breathing as the warmth from Rufus’s palms penetrated the thin denim. “Where?”
“Jesus, Harry. You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you?” Rufus shook his head and leaned in, brushing Harry’s cheek with his lips. “Fucking kiss me.” He leaned back and licked his lips. “I promise I won’t bite.”
God help me, I want him to bite. Harry’s hands shook as he gripped Rufus’s forearms and dragged him close. “This is nuts.”
Rufus laughed, and then he was kissing Harry, aggressive and perfect. The man didn’t beat around the bush. Harry moaned as peppermint burst across his tongue and then somehow Rufus’s hands were in his hair, holding tight. “Fuck,” Harry said. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move.
“Maybe,” Rufus said, then dove in again, nipping at Harry’s lips. “You taste like cherries.”
“I was eating candy in the car,” Harry said, voice cracking when Rufus slid his lips down his jaw. “You taste like mint.”
“I like sweet things,” Rufus said, licking Harry’s neck.
“Fuck.” Harry gripped Rufus’s biceps and pushed him back. “Stop. I’m not sweet.”
Rufus paused. “You’re blowing hot and cold, Harry.” He turned his hands over and gripped Harry’s forearms, hard.
Harry flushed. “I don’t know what I want.”
“You’re hot and bothered, and you don’t know why the fuck you’re feeling that way about another man.” Rufus leaned in and kissed him quick and hard. “I get it.”
He doesn’t know me. Harry gritted his teeth, thinking about the anger on his brother’s face as they’d argued that morning. Fuck it. “I’ve had dreams about making out with a guy.”
Rufus smiled. “I figured.”
Harry flushed again. “Fuck you.”
Abruptly, Rufus tipped over Harry’s chair, sending him backward to the floor. Harry didn’t even have time to yell before Rufus was on top of him, pushing into him. “You think I wouldn’t fuck you, Harry?” Rufus ground his absurdly hard cock against Harry’s thigh. “I would. I absolutely would.”