(Please note this has not been before my betas or my Editor, please excuse the bad writing.)
(Four years later)
“They say old love runs deep, what they don’t tell you is how ruthless it can sting.”—Richard Flinór
Portland was abuzz with traffic. Altogether, this city was a lot less cursed than New York City. The crisp new suit felt a little stiff this morning as I tugged at the lapels, but the need to make a good impression on this new company, Naked!, that I had bought was the top priority.
Well, I licked my lips…the soul priority in question was my top aim. The lengths a man would go to for love, it sounded cliche, but it was the truth.
I gazed out the window again, the rain soft, yet so abundant it looked like a blanket of mist. I could get used to living here…as long as it took, whatever it took…if that meant permanently, so be it.
I would not let him slip away again.
My phone chirped signaling a text. Pulling it from my pocket, I saw who it was and glared at the message.
Good luck, bonehead, go get your boy.
BTW Beo says hi, and sends fucking kisses.
The nerve of him. I clutched my phone so hard as my anger swelled that the cover snapped.
That self-righteous, inconsiderate, arrogant asshole. And I had called him my best friend for so long. I should have known one day Colt would bite the hand that was kind to him. It was a simple matter of time.
Sixteen, drunk and high on weed, Colt had grabbed my thigh as he sat in front of me. I snapped my gaze to his face, his nose and bottom lip still swollen and raw from the fight he had been in at school.
“What you doing, Sam?” I asked, my voice hoarse, mouth dry as his fingers slid further up my leg and dipped in under the material of my shorts, pulling a gasp from me when he brushed my cock that had already flooded with blood.
“Told you…” he bared his teeth, hand wrapping around my dick in a tight clench, “never to fucking call me that.” He increased the pressure, bringing his lips to my neck, his breath damp and hot against my skin. “Colt, Richard, the name’s motherfucking Colt,” he growled then licked my throat. I shivered as his lips sucked at my skin, nipping at it with his teeth, sending a sharp spike of pain into my flesh.
Colt was everything I was not, bigger, stronger, smarter, more handsome and a menacing bully on the school grounds. Hell, even the teachers were scared of him, including my parents.
He was one of the football team’s linebacker, and the coaches never gave a damn when he injured the opposing team’s players because they knew with Colt on the playing field they had a sure win every time. And I wanted Colt, didn’t understood why I became jealous when he went out with the team after a game, coming back and telling me how he had two guys sucking him off at the same time. Until I could call it for what it was. I was in love with my best friend and adopted brother.
“Going to fuck you, Richard,” he rasped, making my ass clench, his voice against my skin, lips and tongue venturing closer to my mouth. I was dripping in his palm.
“Excited?” He gave my cock a squeeze, “and leaking already. Bet your little hole’s begging for it, wants me inside you, stretching your virgin ass.”
“Colt!” I tried to pull away, but he simply pressed me back against the wall with a light thrust, his wild green eyes meeting my own gaze.
He smiled, that liquefying your spine smile before his fist would break a guy’s face.
“Knew my little brother was a fucking virgin!” he chuckled while my face seared.
My breath was coming out in short pants as he licked his lips and exposed my cock from my short’s right leg.
“Mmm, pretty.” He stroked my dick, pulling the foreskin back. “Like your fucking eyes, damnedest, most beautiful hazel eyes I’ve ever seen, Richard,” he said in a softer tone before his lips kissed my cock’s head. He growled, flicking his tongue at the slit and wrapped his lips around my shaft, swallowing me in one fast go down. I nearly came as I fisted his hair, trying to muffle the scream clawing to come out of my mouth, biting down at the knuckles I had shoved between my lips.