July- Vintage

CALENDAR BOYS JULY: VINTAGE

…“I’d never disappear on you, Alain. Our friendship means too much to me to harm it like that.” “Just our friendship?” The caresses lengthened, though they still remained more heat than touch. “There was one night, when things might have gone differently for us. Remember how hot it was? How much we had to drink?” “I remember very well. We had far more to drink that night than we did tonight.” Simon gripped Alain’s wrist and gently guided his hand back to his own lap. “And that night was a long time ago.” A wry smile tipped Alain’s mouth. “Ah, so I’m too old for you now.” “No. It’s not your age. It’s just…you’re my dearest friend. I don’t want anything to come between us.” “But it’s because you’re my dearest friend that I’d like for something to come between us.” Alain sat up, suddenly more alert. “You and I…we have no secrets. There are no games. No…competition. This seems like the perfect basis to try something new, something better.” He was right, of course. Simon had never had such an easy relationship with another person, and he always suspected that was because they were only friends. Games and secrets went hand-in-hand with romantic entanglements, in Simon’s

experience. He had been tempted once or twice to try to push things between them to another level, but ultimately, it had always been too easy to imagine a scenario in which they would try for more and lose everything in the process. He didn’t think he could live with that. It was too great of a risk…

ALSO BY JAMIE CRAIG At The Advent Of Dusk Double Down Fortune’s Honor Keeping Time A Little Bit Bewitched Calendar Boys, Vol. I & II The Master Chronicles Book I: Master Of Obsidian Book II: Unveiled Book III: Mosaic Moon Book IV: Seduction In Black And White Book V: Chaos & Communion Book VI: Dominion Calendar Boys January: Miami’s Perfect Weekend February: Mine March: Kiss Me April: Out Of The Storm May: Corazón June: Commencement July: Vintage August: Scorched

CALENDAR BOYS

JULY: VINTAGE BY JAMIE CRAIG

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

CALENDAR BOYS JULY: VINTAGE AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2008 by Pepper Espinoza & Vivien Dean ISBN 978-1-60272-297-2 Cover Art © 2008 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

JULY: VINTAGE

CHAPTER 1 “This weekend?” “That’s what I said.” “This weekend.” “Yes, do you have a problem with that?” Claude’s already saucered brown eyes widened further. In the bright Parisian sunshine, with his boyish cap of blond curls, he looked even more than usual like a Hummel figurine. It didn’t help that he barely came up to Alain’s chest. Alain had to bite the inside of his cheek and concentrate on unlocking the back door in order not to embarrass the young chef by smiling. “I just don’t know why you’d leave the restaurant on one 1

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of the busiest weekends of the year,” Claude persisted. “Surely, you want to be here, to make sure everything goes well?” Cooler air and blessed darkness comforted Alain Tiessart as he stepped through the rear entry of Rêver. He’d been unlocking and opening that door for nearly thirteen years; each time still unwound every knot that might reside within him. The ease didn’t last, of course. He’d worked his fingers to the bone to make his restaurant a success. But now, with Rêver finally making its mark on Parisian cuisine, he could enjoy the fruits of his labor. “Everything will go well.” Alain didn’t look back as he strode through the hall for his office. “You’ve handled busy nights before.” “But…” Claude pushed past Alain to hold the door open for him. His face shone with continued alarm. “It’s the Fourteenth. We’ll be swarmed. Everybody will be in Paris for the festivities.” “Everybody but me.” “My point exactly!” Alain shot Claude a reassuring smile as he leaned against the edge of the desk, his long legs angled in front of him. It brought him more to the other man’s level, a habit he’d picked up when he’d first hired Claude out of culinary school. “I have complete and utter faith in you. Do you honestly think I’d leave Rêver in your hands if I didn’t?” Pride warred with confusion in Claude’s dark eyes, and he fidgeted for several seconds, his fingers twisting the 2

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drawstring of his long shorts. “I’m grateful for your respect, of course. I guess I don’t understand what could be so important that you’d leave us behind now of all times. Where are you going?” Alain reached back to his desk blotter and pulled out a single sheet of paper. “That’s my itinerary.” He passed it over, watching Claude scan the long list. “And the numbers where you can reach me. I’m only two hours away. I can be back before the building has time to burn down, if you need me to be.” Claude’s bowed mouth made a perfect o as he read over the notes. “Can’t he get away this year? The Bastille festivities are better in Paris anyway. That tiny village he lives in probably won’t even have fireworks.” “Simon loathes Paris.” “He comes often enough.” “Only because I nag him about never visiting.” “So nag him again.” Alain shook his head. “He’s not even expecting me this time.” The Hummel eyes were back. “You’re surprising him?” “Yes.” He laughed. “I think it’s about time, don’t you?” *

*

*

It was more than time. As he navigated the narrow lanes that led away from the village, Alain found it increasingly difficult to keep from smiling. His friendship with Simon Hastings went back over a decade, ever since the night the 3

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Englishman had requested to meet Rêver’s head chef. Alain had gone out to accept what he hoped to be praise, and ended up walking Simon home at the end of the dinner service. A camaraderie over good food and better wine had begun then, only to deepen into something more satisfying as time went on. Yet, Alain had never left Paris to go and visit his friend. There was always an excuse. The restaurant needed him. Simon was traveling for work. The rain made the country roads a mess. Alain had used them all, though to be fair, Simon found plenty of his own reasons to avoid Paris. The man hated big cities. He only came when it seemed his solitude weighed too heavily on him. Alain understood solitude. With his commitment to making his restaurant a success, relationships took a back seat. He had his share of flings with pretty young men, usually interested in what an esteemed Paris chef could do for their career, but nothing lasting. In fact, his friendship with Simon was likely the longest relationship he’d ever had outside of family. This weekend was long overdue. He pulled to the side of the road in order to let a young boy and his border collie guide a small herd of sheep diagonally across the lane. He nodded when the boy waved in acknowledgement, watching them in bemusement until the road finally cleared again. Though Simon found the slower pace of the village charming, Alain had always disparaged it as old-fashioned. The fact that he hadn’t even drummed his 4

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fingers in annoyance or frustration boded well. Simon’s home was set off the road, though the rolling fields opposite left it in clear view. The stone farmhouse bordered on the edge of a forest, and the towering trees shaded it away from the worst of the summer sun. Gravel crunched under his tires as Alain approached. The rosebushes Simon always bragged about nearly hid the edges of the building, but it was the man himself, bowed slightly as he trimmed the branches, that truly captivated Alain. Simon was younger by two years, but regardless of the fact that they both neared fifty, Simon had the toned body of a man fifteen years his junior. His forearms flexed with each pull of the brambles, and his tanned skin glowed with health. Though he wore a floppy hat to protect his bald head from the unforgiving sun, his strong profile was more than visible. The long nose. The full mouth that begged for kisses and lots of them. Deep-set eyes the shade of freshly ground cinnamon. Simon turned more than one head when he came to Paris. Alain always considered himself fortunate that Simon chose a craggy old bastard like him to spend time with. As Alain pulled up to the house, Simon looked up. For a moment, his eyes narrowed, only for his brows to lift in surprise when he saw who was behind the wheel. Alain climbed out with a broad smile and a sly wink. “Good to see you’re as predictable as ever,” he teased. “I was planning on you being home for the holiday, and, look, I was right.” “One of these days, I might surprise you.” Simon’s deep 5

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voice boomed across the yard, and he spoke in fluent French with only a hint of an accent. He pulled his gloves off and tossed them to the ground indifferently, then crossed the yard to pull Alain into a warm embrace. “As for me, I would have expected you to be at work on a holiday. What brings you all the way out here?” Alain clapped Simon on the back, letting his fingers massage the tight muscles a moment longer than necessary before stepping back. “You do, of course.” Simon tilted the rim of his hat back, exposing his furrowed brow. “I do?” He gestured toward the house, and Alain noticed the dark circles of sweat on his shoulders and chest. “Let’s get out of this sun, and you can tell me what you mean.” It was several degrees cooler in the old farm house, and Simon took a moment to hang his hat on a peg by the door before leading Alain into the kitchen. “There’s nothing wrong, is there?” “No, nothing’s wrong. But Claude and I were planning for the festivities, and it kept getting later and later, and I realized, I really didn’t want to have to work another holiday.” “Well, Claude’s a good man.” Simon poured two glasses of water as he spoke, then downed his quickly, the column of his throat moving with each swallow. “Why didn’t you call and let me know you were coming out? I would have chilled some wine and made you a nice dinner, for a change.” His fingers chilled in the condensation on the glass, his thumb stroking along the thick lower curve. He wasn’t thirsty. 6

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He was far more interested in watching Simon. “And give you the chance to argue with me about leaving Rêver behind? It was hard enough detaching Claude from my ankle.” “That’s because we both know Rêver is only as strong as its brilliant head chef. Besides, can you blame Claude for panicking? This is probably the first time you’ve spent more than six hours away from the restaurant since you’ve opened.” “True. But there comes a time when you say, enough is enough. It’s time I started being a little more selfish.” He sipped his water, wetting his dry throat. He hadn’t anticipated being quite this nervous. “And what better way to start than with you.” Simon smiled good-naturedly. “I suppose you could have started with you. Well, all is not lost. It’s early enough to put a bottle on ice, and I purchased a nice cut of venison this morning. We can go down to the market and get some fresh vegetables.” He poured another glass of water, but merely sipped at the liquid instead of gulping it down. “How long did you plan to stay?” “Would through the weekend be asking too much?” That gave him five days. A lot could happen in five days. “Of course not. You can stay as long as you like, as long as you don’t mind working out in the garden. Those rosebushes won’t trim themselves.” Alain laughed. “I have the best set of knives in Paris. A few thorns won’t bother me in the slightest.” “Good. I’ll make you work for your supper. But not too hard, I suppose. I don’t want to scare you away from another 7

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surprise visit. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen you.” Setting the glass down on the polished wood counter, Alain hooked a thumb to the door behind him. “Let me get my stuff from the car, while you do the wine. I’ll drive us down to the market then.” Simon cocked a thick brow. “We could always walk, you know.” “In this heat? Humor this city boy as long as you can, all right? You can subject me to your rustic ways after you’ve broken me down some.” Simon’s shared laughter drifted after him as he went back to the car, a rich, rumbling sound that served better to warm him than any liqueur ever could. While his nerves danced, the rest of Alain felt more at home than he had since the last time he’d seen Simon. He wondered what Simon would think of that, if he knew Alain had been unable to garner an interest in even the prettiest young thing for the past year, for thoughts of Simon plaguing him instead. He’d laugh, probably. Mock him for merely getting old. But maybe, just maybe, he might see just what it truly meant. Simon was nowhere to be seen when he came back inside, but a door leading into darkness stood open at the rear of the kitchen. “Where do you want me to put these?” Alain called out. “The first door on the right is the guestroom.” His reply floated up the stairs, arriving several seconds before he emerged from the dark cellar. He had two bottles in hand. “It’s not properly made up, but we can take care of that tonight 8

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after dinner.” He took only a moment to drop his bag. He had no desire to be separated from Simon any longer than he had to be. “You’re going to let me cook for you while I’m here, aren’t you?” Alain leaned against the wall, watching Simon rinse out the glasses before setting them on the drying rack. “It’s the least I can do after dropping in unannounced.” Simon grinned. “You just don’t think a retired stockbroker could possibly know how to properly cook venison.” “I’m sure you think it tastes just fine.” “Are you questioning my palate?” “Of course not. After all, you like my cooking.” Simon inclined his head. “No, I adore your cooking. I guess that raises the question of whether it takes a true connoisseur to recognize obvious brilliance when he meets it.” “Which only proves my point. But I’ll let you do the venison tonight. I have to rest up after keeping pace with all those sheep getting here anyway.” “You can’t tell me the sheep are worse than all the traffic and pedestrians in Paris. The sheep even smell better.” Alain winked and wagged a now-I’ve-got-you finger in Simon’s direction. “Ah, but at least in Paris, you get through it all much, much faster. And if you don’t care for the roads, you take the metro.” “The metro smells worse than a thousand sheep. Trust me, I know. I was stuck in the middle of a herd that large once. But I know there’s no point in trying to talk sense to you Parisians. It hasn’t gotten me anywhere in the past decade.” 9

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“And yet, you still try.” He knew he was smiling like a fool, but that was what Simon did to him. Nobody else set Alain at ease like he did. Nobody else even came close. “Well, you’ve got five days to prove this Parisian wrong. Show me what it is you love about being stuck in the middle of nowhere.” He bowed his head. “I am your humble guest.” “Guest, maybe. Humble? I’ve never seen it. Not that you have reason to be.” Simon looked down and grimaced. “Speaking of smelling like a sheep. I’ll just go change real quick, and then we can head to the market.” It was on the tip of Alain’s tongue to tell him he didn’t have to bother, but Simon was gone before the sentiment had the chance to damn him. He watched Simon’s broad shoulders for as long as he could, and when the bedroom door closed quietly behind the man, he sagged against the wall. Only a few meters away, Simon was stripping down to the skin, exposing sweaty muscles gleaming from exertion. Alain wasn’t erect, but the threads of desire were still there, leaving his cock semi-aroused, his flesh too aware of just how closely Simon had passed by. Simon might have spent most of his adulthood as a suit, but he was also a man unafraid of labor. More than once, he’d stripped to his shirtsleeves to help tote things into the restaurant. Power oozed from every pore. It was enough to drive a man to distraction, if he let it. Alain did. As often as he could afford. It didn’t take long for Simon to return, though fortunately, Alain had enough time to make sure his arousal wasn’t evident. He wore blue jeans and a plain, white polo shirt, 10

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which only drew Alain’s eye to the bronze shade of his skin and his muscled torso. In some ways, this was worse than the damp shirt he had changed out of earlier. “Since you’re letting me cook tonight, and you’re my guest, you can choose the vegetables at the market.” Alain smiled as he settled his sunglasses in place. They didn’t work to soften the sharpness of his awareness, but at least they masked his naked appreciation from Simon’s gaze a little bit longer. “I knew you’d raid my expertise sooner or later.” “I think you might be pleasantly surprised by my own expertise. I have a great deal of time on my hands to experiment. Or you might be appalled by what I consider my culinary masterpiece.” Simon didn’t speak again until they were both settled in Alain’s car, and he was checking his rearview mirror for yet more sheep. “So is this newfound freedom merely temporary, or are you going to escape the four walls of your restaurant and see more of the world?” “This is a…test.” And it was. Alain knew what he wanted, but if he couldn’t have it, he didn’t want to be left floating free. Rêver would always welcome him back should Simon choose to let him go. “Maybe all your talk of retiring has finally started to get through my thick skull.” “You’re not testing the possibility of retiring to the country, are you? Because, Alain, my friend, I suspect it would take less than five days to make you crazy.” He shrugged. “Perhaps. If I only had sheep for company.” “Hmm. Let me see if I can imagine an average day for you 11

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in the country.” Simon tilted his head, as if giving it serious thought. “Actually, I imagine you waking up at four to bake bread, out of habit, but I’m not sure what you would do after that. Drink your morning coffee and yell at the sheep in your garden, I suspect.” “I have other interests than food, you know.” “Oh? I hadn’t noticed. What are those?” It was Alain’s turn to give the question serious thought. He ended with a slow, exaggerated shake of his head. “No, you’re right. It’s only food.” “We’ll just have to help you cultivate some new interests.” Though he knew it probably meant nothing, Simon’s use of the word we sent a warm flush through Alain’s body. “We’ll just have to do that,” he agreed. Five days. A lot could happen in just five, short days.

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CHAPTER 2 The meal was good, and the wine was excellent, but the company was better, in Simon’s opinion. Alain politely ate his entire portion and made the appropriate compliments, though they both knew Alain would have been able to work magic, and Simon was only merely competent. But that didn’t matter to Alain. For all of his accomplishments and his taste in the finer things, he wasn’t a snob. Which was why Simon liked him so much from the moment they met. Alain lacked pretension. Simon poured the last of their first bottle of wine into Alain’s glass, leaning over the table to let the dark liquid splash against the bottom. Simon frowned and set the empty 13

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bottle aside. “I could go get the other one, if you’d like.” Alain shook his head. “Let’s save it a little bit. We can drink it under the stars instead of clearing up.” He smiled as he lifted his glass, momentarily transforming his wolfish features. “I’m on vacation, after all.” “Oh, right. Excuse me, I forgot.” Simon said it lightly, but the concept of Alain taking a holiday was so foreign to him that he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. Alain never took holidays. He never even took a day off from his restaurant. At most, he would allow himself a half of a day to indulge in some of his favorite hobbies, or to attend a party he wasn’t hired to cater. And the fact that Alain chose to spend his first vacation in years—probably the first in his life for all Simon knew—with him pleased Simon very much. “Is there anything you’d like to do tomorrow instead of cleaning up? We should make the most of your vacation, after all.” Alain leaned back in his chair, his long legs stretching out in front of him. He was a big man, with large, callused hands that looked incongruous toying with the delicate stem of his wineglass. The first time Simon had seen him, he’d thought he looked more like a longshoreman than a haute cuisine chef. Time had done little to temper that impression. “What do you do?” he asked instead of answering Simon’s query. “I’m curious what it is about the country that so fascinates you.” “Oh, I have my routine. I walk into the village in the 14

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morning for fresh fruit and coffee for breakfast. When I get home, I work on my article.” A weekly trifle, in Simon’s view. He agreed to write it for something to do, even though he knew he’d run out of investment advice sooner rather than later. “I typically read after lunch. Right now I’m working on Kant.” Simon stopped and grimaced. “This sounds unbelievably boring, even to my own ears.” “Not boring.” Though he didn’t believe Alain’s assertion for a moment. “But it does sound…lonely.” “I can always go down to the village when I want for company. It took some time, but they’ve come to view me as one of their own. And I’m thinking about getting a dog. A small, well-trained dog that won’t destroy my furniture or my floors.” Simon leaned back in his chair. “Yes, it can be rather lonely.” “I’d tell you to come to the city more often, but we both know that would be a waste of breath.” Simon nodded in acknowledgement of the fact. “In some ways, I’m living my dream existence here. This is what I’ve been working toward my whole life—time to invest in a garden, and the library of books I accumulated but never read. And then I think that maybe I forgot something in all my planning, and I’m not supposed to be out here all alone.” Alain fell silent for a moment, sipping at his wine as his gaze drank in the details of the room. He’d been more contemplative than usual all day, displaying a pensive side Simon rarely witnessed before multiple bottles of wine had been consumed. He was tempted to ask if something had 15

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happened in Paris, something that had driven him away from the city he loved on its most celebrated weekend of the year, when Alain rose to his feet. “Let’s continue this in the garden,” he said, tilting his head toward the back door. “It’s a little warm in here, don’t you think?” Simon stood as well, detouring into the kitchen for the second bottle of wine before following Alain into his garden. He had a small table and two chairs in the garden, as well as a bench, where he liked to read in the afternoon. Alain had chosen the bench, and Simon sat beside him. A steady breeze kept the warm air bearable, and the garden smelled of freshly watered soil and green leaves. To Simon, the night was alive with sound—sheep and dogs and even distant music—but he was sure to Alain’s city ears, everything was oppressively silent. When he had first moved into the little house, he hadn’t been able to sleep because everything was too quiet and too dark. Above them, millions of stars blanketed the sky. “Of course,” Simon said softly, “on nights like this, I forget for a little while that I am lonely. It’s too beautiful for those sorts of thoughts.” “Yes,” came the quiet agreement. Darkness obscured everything but the vague outline of Alain’s aquiline nose. “We should all be so lucky to forget once in a while.” “Do you have time to be lonely?” “More than you might think.” Simon already had a pretty good idea of Alain’s loneliness. 16

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He may not have known intimate details of Alain’s life, but he knew enough to know that he was married to his restaurant. He never had the time, or the energy, to invest in anything more meaningful. Simon actually respected him for that decision. At least he knew what he wanted and what he had to sacrifice to get it. “But you’re taking vacations now. If you have time for that, a real social life can’t be far behind.” Alain held out his empty glass, waiting patiently as Simon refilled it. “I think I’m getting finicky in my old age. I don’t have the tolerance I used to. Would you believe it, but I actually turned down a second date with this beautiful young model—I mean, truly, an ass you could eat off of instead of just eat—just because he couldn’t taste the difference between my risotto and my savory rice pudding?” Simon frowned. “Well, that’s just unforgivable. Him not knowing the difference, that is. You were justified in dropping him. But I think we’re both getting at an age where beautiful and young just isn’t enough.” “Does that mean you’re not currently seeing anybody?” “What? Oh, no. There’s not that many guys to choose from here, and I haven’t been able to keep in touch with anybody in Paris.” “You’ve kept in touch with me.” “I find it’s easier to maintain a friendship over long distances than a romantic relationship. If only because you don’t have to worry about the sex.” “Ah, yes. Friendship.” 17

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More silence as Alain sipped at his wine. Though the roses had closed for the night, the scent of their blooms drifted along the slight breeze that cooled the evening air. Between that and the wine, it was easy to fall into the warm satisfaction Alain’s presence always brought. Alain might be a man driven by his passion for success, but it never bled over into other aspects of his life. Of course, Simon knew he could argue that there were no other aspects of Alain’s life, but that felt like he shortchanged the man somehow. “I assume they celebrate the Fourteenth, even out here in the country.” It took a moment to realize Alain had changed the subject. “Since I’ve forsaken fireworks and debauchery, what do I have to look forward to this weekend?” “Oh, they know how to celebrate out here, too. There’s plenty of wine, plenty of fireworks, and you can even find debauchery if you know where to look. We can go into the village, if you like.” “I would, thank you. Perhaps I’ll be able to dig out some of your secrets from the locals.” His teeth flashed in the moonlight as he shot Simon a smile. “That should prove entertaining for a few hours.” Simon snorted. “What do you think they know that you don’t?” “You spend far more time here than you do in Paris. I’m sure they must have something to share.” “But of all the people I’ve met, I’ve talked the most with you. I’m sure that gives you an edge over the villagers.” Alain shifted sideways, turning away from the beauty of 18

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the shadowed garden to face Simon more directly. His bent knee was between them, and he stretched his arm along the back of the bench, his fingertips just inches away from Simon’s nape. It didn’t make it any easier to see him, but it leant a certain intimacy to their conversation that hadn’t been there previously. “Did you know you’re my oldest friend?” he asked, almost casually. “No. I didn’t. You haven’t kept in touch with anybody from school or anything?” Alain shook his head. “I spent too much time trying to make a success of everything. First me, and then Rêver. Most friendships require effort I never took the time to extend.” “I don’t think anybody could blame you for putting Rêver first. It feels like dozens of restaurants open every year, only to close six months later. Rêver is a testament to your hard work and talent.” Simon filled his glass and took a sip of the wine, letting the full flavor linger on his tongue. “You’re my oldest friend here in France. And one of the few I’ve wanted to keep.” “Because I feed you.” “You feed me the best food I’ve ever eaten.” Simon tilted his head. “We’ve established what I get from the relationship. Why did you take the time to make an effort for me?” “You were never an effort. You…” His fingers caressed the back of the bench, slow, languid movements as if it was impossible for him to be still, even here. “I never had to try and pretend with you. You’ve always taken what I’ve offered, 19

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and accepted it. Without judgment.” There was another flash as he lifted his glass to his smiling mouth. “And you have exquisite taste.” “I guess it’s a good thing I had the audacity to demand a meeting with the most talented young chef in Paris, then.” He covered Alain’s hand with his for a moment, feeling the map of burns and cuts on his skin that bespoke of years in a kitchen, and squeezed his fingers quickly. “I’m glad you chose to take your first holiday here. I’ve missed seeing you.” Alain downed the rest of his wine in a long swallow, but rather than hold it out for another refill, he bent down to rest it on the ground at their feet. That left his hand free when he straightened, and Simon was surprised to feel it come to rest on his bent knee. “I wonder if it’s necessary for us to feel quite so lonely while I’m visiting,” Alain said. “I wonder that quite a bit, actually.” Simon studied the hand on his knee for a beat, though it wasn’t completely unusual. Alain often became casually affectionate the more he drank. And Simon didn’t have any problem with being touched. But this felt a little different somehow. “I haven’t felt lonely since your arrival.” “Neither have I. I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.” “Weeks? Earlier you made it sound like this was a more recent decision as you planned for the holiday.” “Oh. Did I?” Alain grimaced, though he didn’t pull back 20

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from where he touched Simon. “Well, I suppose I’ve been found out then.” “Yes, you have. But I can forgive you for deceiving me. If you had a good reason.” Alain didn’t respond. The fingers on Simon’s knee stretched, moved along the inside of his thigh in a gesture more suited for lovers than friends. His mouth opened to comment on how the wine was affecting Alain tonight, but then the man in question slid slightly closer, the hand resting upon the back of the bench now tickling along Simon’s nape. “I guess I thought that if you knew the truth, you’d disappear,” Alain said quietly. “You are very good at that, you know. There were times when months would go by, when I knew you were traveling, and I would think of you and wonder if I would ever see you again.” “You should know that I always find my way back to Paris, even when I think I never want to see that damned city again.” Simon kept his voice light, but it made a rather shocking contrast to Alain’s serious tone, and his even more serious touch. That contrast, more than anything else, made Simon uncomfortable, and he regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. He swallowed and tried again. “I’d never disappear on you, Alain. Our friendship means too much to me to harm it like that.” “Just our friendship?” The caresses lengthened, though they still remained more heat than touch. “There was one night, when things might have gone differently for us. Remember how hot it was? How much we had to drink?” 21

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“I remember very well. We had far more to drink that night than we did tonight.” Simon gripped Alain’s wrist and gently guided his hand back to his own lap. “And that night was a long time ago.” A wry smile tipped Alain’s mouth. “Ah, so I’m too old for you now.” “No. It’s not your age. It’s just…you’re my dearest friend. I don’t want anything to come between us.” “But it’s because you’re my dearest friend that I’d like for something to come between us.” Alain sat up, suddenly more alert. “You and I…we have no secrets. There are no games. No…competition. This seems like the perfect basis to try something new, something better.” He was right, of course. Simon had never had such an easy relationship with another person, and he always suspected that was because they were only friends. Games and secrets went hand-in-hand with romantic entanglements, in Simon’s experience. He had been tempted once or twice to try to push things between them to another level, but ultimately, it had always been too easy to imagine a scenario in which they would try for more and lose everything in the process. He didn’t think he could live with that. It was too great of a risk. “I’m sorry, Alain. I don’t want to risk what we do have. What works for a friendship isn’t necessarily enough for a different type of relationship.” He thought Alain might press. After all, Alain was nothing if not persistent. But with his confession came a lighter air, the 22

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teasing quality back in his tone. “Because we both have such success at different types of relationships?” He shifted away, slouching in the bench in order to stretch his legs out and rest his neck on the back, staring up into the night sky. “Perhaps you’re right. I’m an old dog. It would be pointless to think I could change at this point.” “We’re both old dogs. Is this why you came out here? You’re not going to go back to Paris tomorrow, are you?” “And prove Claude right?” Alain scoffed. “Of course not. You’re stuck with me, my friend. Whether you like it or not.” “Good. I’d be very disappointed if you deprived me of your company. And the dinner you promised me.” He turned on the bench as well, but continued to watch Alain from the corner of his eye. He hoped that he hadn’t already ruined everything by turning Alain down. “Do you want anything for dessert? I have several types of chocolate.” “Hmm, chocolate or this beautiful sky…” Alain remained as he was, his hands folded over his stomach. “I think, for now, I’d like to enjoy the peace. And the excellent company.” “That sounds like a good plan to me.” Simon looked up to the stars, but Alain was still prominent in his mind’s eye. Alain and his face that would never be considered beautiful and handsome, but Simon had always found it intriguing and appealing. Alain and his nervous energy, his brilliant hands, his gruff laugh, his tendency to descend into a riot of profanity once pushed beyond the limits of his patience. 23

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He couldn’t tell if Alain was hurt by his rebuff, but he thought it was a good sign that the other man didn’t immediately try to put distance between them. Maybe he had already put it out of his mind, but Simon suspected he wouldn’t be able to dismiss the encounter so easily. Alain had, at the very least, given him a lot to think about.

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CHAPTER 3 Though he tried with everything that he had, Alain finally broke at the fifth knock at his door. “You were serious about going out this early?” Leaning against the edge of the door in order to stay upright, Alain blinked down at Simon, trying to clear his bleary vision. For his part, Simon looked as alert and collected as he had the previous night at dinner, smiling broadly and in great amusement at Alain’s obvious dishevelment. “Why would someone who spent their entire professional career having to cater to a nine-to-five existence voluntarily choose to continue such an awful schedule once you no longer had the obligation?” 25

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“I don’t want to use retirement as an excuse to get lazy. Come now, you should be accustomed to waking this early. Aren’t you usually at your restaurant by five for the deliveries?” “Because I haven’t yet gone to bed.” He stumbled back into the room, reaching blindly for his suitcase. “There’s a vast difference.” “Well, you don’t have to come with me if you’d rather not. But you’ll miss out on all the rustic charm of the countryside coming to life.” “No, no, I’m coming, I’m coming.” As soon as I can find my pants. “Just tell me you have coffee.” “Of course I have coffee. And a good brisk walk does wonders for the appetite. You’ll really appreciate your breakfast by the time we reach the market.” Alain flipped him off, but the sound of Simon’s laughter drifting to him as he retreated from the doorway was enough to soften his annoyance at the hour. He dressed as swiftly as his tired limbs allowed him. When he opened the door to meet with Simon, the scent of strong coffee made his stomach rumble. “So I’m cooking dinner tonight, yes?” He took the cup Simon offered gladly and swallowed a mouthful of the bitter drink, heedless of its heat. “It seems only fair to trade off nights for as long as I’m here.” “Yes, that’s fair. And you can have complete control of the menu, too.” The coffee did wonders to clear his foggy head, though 26

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bringing the memories of Simon’s gentle rebuff the night before back into clarity wasn’t necessarily welcome. He hadn’t hoped for such a swift nay. In fact, he’d hoped, after so many signals that Simon was as lonely as he was, how he definitely didn’t find him repellant, that they might even spend the night together. But just because Simon had turned him down, didn’t mean Alain was giving up. Simon simply needed time to adjust to the idea. He was not a man who made decisions lightly, sometimes not at all. Alain would ensure that Simon was fully aware of everything that could be, what he might miss, what they could potentially share. He still had four days, after all. He grabbed his sunglasses before they set out down the road. The soft morning light wasn’t harsh enough to need subduing, but the shading helped him awaken the rest of the way. “So these villagers…” He waved a sweeping hand at the road that stretched in front of them. “Do they know you’re gay? Or do I have to put on my John McClane attitude for the locals?” “Oh, I’ve never tried to hide it, though I do go to larger towns when I’m in the mood for a bit of entertainment. They don’t have a problem with me, as long as I keep spending my money in their stores.” His thoughts wandered to how Simon “entertained” himself. To Alain’s knowledge, Simon had never had a longterm relationship in the time they’d known each other. His work and constant traveling made one near impossible. He’d 27

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seen him with men, even hooked him up once or twice, but anything more existed only in his imagination. Perhaps that was why Simon was reluctant to pursue anything serious. Alain certainly couldn’t fault him for being commitment-phobic. After all, he wasn’t exactly a poster child for happily ever after, either. At least, not yet. Not if he had anything to say about it. “Spend lots of money. Got it. I honestly don’t think that’s going to be a problem for me.” Alain watched Simon as they walked, noting each change in his expression and the way his shirt pulled tight across his chest. When they had first met, Simon had seemed like a dour person, and most people who moved within his social circle didn’t really like him. But now, nobody could describe Simon as dour or unhappy. His very body seemed to reflect the countryside, from the light in his eyes to the dark tan on his arms. “No, I’m sure it won’t be. You’ll be utterly charmed by the shops. This is why I always walk to the village. Then I won’t be tempted to bring home more than I can carry.” “Except now you have me to carry things for you.” Simon smiled at him. “No, I’ll probably end up carrying things for you. Which is fine with me. I don’t mind being your faithful servant.” “You say that now. But will you say as much if I ask for other sundries during my stay?” “It depends on the other sundries, I suppose.” Something about his tone made Alain pause. They hadn’t 28

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discussed the events of the previous night, even after they had occurred. Once the matter had been dropped, that was it. Now, he wondered if he was wrong to ignore it, but until Simon did or said something a tad more overt, he would remain wary of ruining what was already the best relationship he had. “Oh, I wouldn’t ask anything I wouldn’t be more than happy to do in kind,” Alain teased. “Though Claude will likely tell you I’m a slave driver, so perhaps saying you’ll be my servant isn’t in your best interest.” He smiled and winked. “Even if it is in mine.” “I’ve seen the way you treat poor Claude. He’s right to call you a slave driver. But I don’t think you’d be quite so hard on me. For one thing, I suspect you like me more than you like Claude.” Alain roared with laughter. “This is true. I can honestly say I’ve never propositioned Claude, or even entertained the thought. It would be like fucking one of those Ewoks.” He chortled at the image. “Those big eyes staring at me? I’d have to bend him over to even consider it.” Simon snorted. “Well, thank you for introducing the image of you fucking an Ewok. That’s the sort of thing that could haunt my nightmares.” “Then we’ll both be haunted. And I thoroughly blame you for it. You’re the one who put the thought in my head.” “I wouldn’t have mentioned anything if I knew you were going to bring up Ewoks. And now the next time I go to Paris, I won’t be able to look at Claude without laughing.” Alain waved it off. “Half of Paris already can’t look at 29

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Claude without laughing. That’s why I keep him in the kitchen. Lucky for me, he’s a fantastic cook.” “Have you ever propositioned any of your cooks? The ones who didn’t look like Ewoks?” “Cooks? No. Waiters? Yes. Once.” Better to be honest. Simon would know if he was lying. “But in my defense, the boy wore pants to work that were painted on. A monk wouldn’t have been able to resist his cock.” “And nobody’s ever confused you with a monk,” Simon said dryly. “Exactly. I’m a man of carnal pleasures. Anyone who’s eaten at Rêver should know that.” “True. The first meal I ever had at Rêver was the first one I could ever describe as truly sensual. I think that’s why I wanted to meet you.” A car rumbled behind them, driving them off the road and onto the edge, out of its way in order for it to pass. Alain’s arm brushed against Simon’s, his skin firm and warm, and his body reacted automatically. He gritted his teeth. Did Simon even know what he did to a man? Did he have any idea just how appealing he really was? “Lucky for me, you’re a man who can appreciate the truly sensual then. Which only proves my point. You wouldn’t have been able to resist Gilles either.” “I might have been able to. I have excellent self-control if I have the proper motivation.” His words from the night before drifted back, but Alain resisted the urge to remind Simon of them. No point in firming 30

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his resolve in that matter. In fact… “How about a wager on that?” Simon’s regular stride faltered for a moment, and then he was walking at the normal pace again. “What sort of wager?” “I’ll find the most irresistible young man I can. Here or in one of the larger towns, perhaps. If you manage to resist him, I’ll cook every meal for you until I leave. And you’ll never have to pay for another meal at Rêver again. Is that motivation enough?” “What if I can’t resist him?” He hadn’t considered that. Simon seemed too proud of his restraint. “Then…” His mouth curved. “You promise to share him with me.” It took him so long to answer, Alain wondered if he had gone too far. But finally Simon licked his lips and nodded. “I’ll take that wager.” Alain couldn’t help but grin. This trip into the village was turning into a great idea, after all. *

*

*

Simon wasn’t worried about losing the wager—not that the terms of the bet were necessarily unpleasant—because he didn’t think he would give in to temptation. For one thing, Simon had already checked out and dismissed most of the young men in the village. For another thing, he had long ago learned how to control his desires so they served him instead of the other way around. He had seen too many men lose their homes, or families, or jobs, simply because they were slaves to 31

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their more base impulses. But his confidence in himself was shaken slightly when they reached the open-air market, and Alain turned on his charm. Simon had had demonstrations of the other man’s charm before, of course. He could be the most charming man on the planet when circumstances called for it. But he had only ever seen Alain demonstrate said charm when he wished to get into other, exclusive restaurants, or when he was meeting food critics or VIPs. He had never seen what Alain could do to young men he set his sights on. He watched him now, chatting with the fishmonger’s son. The Ouvrards were pleasant enough people, though the wife had a tendency to be a little shrill. He wasn’t even sure what her name was. Worse, he was fairly certain he’d been unaware they had a son, let alone one who was of legal age. He frowned as Alain rested a hand on the young man’s shoulder, their heads bent toward each other as if sharing some secret. What could possibly be so fascinating? Two sets of eyes turned to look at him. Alain’s blue, deepset, the shadows beneath him making him look dangerous rather than tired. The young man’s brown, twinkling, appreciative, the fine brows arching slightly as his gaze raked over Simon. Alain didn’t let go of the boy’s shoulder as he led him away from the stall. “Would you believe it, but this delightful young man has never been to Paris? Two hours away, and he’s never had the good fortune.” The delightful young man looked to be in his early 32

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twenties, with a narrow yet muscular frame. The sort of physique that young men didn’t need to work for and probably didn’t fully appreciate, either. “No, I can’t believe it. I suppose you’ve told him everything he’s missing out on?” Alain’s smile widened. His grip tightened at the same time. “Of course. It would be negligent of me not to. Which means, you know, we must have him for dinner tonight. Because everything good about Paris can be found in food.” This was cheating. Simon was quite sure that if Alain had mentioned inviting the boy to his home, he would have never agreed to the wager in the first place. But he couldn’t let Alain know that he had found a potential weak point. “Of course.” He turned to the young man. “Most people don’t believe they’ve fully experienced Paris until they’ve sampled Alain’s cooking. But excuse his rudeness for not properly introducing us. I’m Simon Hastings.” “Oh, I knew who you were. I’ve seen you.” The cupid’s bow of his upper lip smoothed slightly as he smiled, though Simon couldn’t help but notice how Alain kept massaging his shoulder. “I’m Marc. Ouvrard. You always get the cod on Mondays.” Alain’s mouth twitched in amusement. It nearly matched the dance of his eyes. “See? I’m not rude. In fact, I think I’ve done you both a great favor. Neither one of you would have this opportunity to really get to know each other, if it weren’t for me.” “Yes. You’re a great friend.” Simon said, through slightly 33

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gritted teeth. “As our privileged guest, Marc, I’d like you to choose our menu. Whatever you like.” Marc immediately turned to Alain. “What was that dish you were telling me about? That sounded wonderful.” “Roast duck with cognac and plums. If I get home by noon, I’ll even have time to marinate it properly.” “I’d like that, then.” To Simon, with a swipe across his mouth Simon wasn’t entirely sure was innocent, “Is that all right?” Alain’s signature dish. The dish that earned Rêver two Michelin stars. Simon could only imagine how Alain had talked up that dish, seducing Marc with promises of the most delectable thing he could ever put in his mouth. “It’s more than all right. But if we’re going to be back to the house by noon, we’d better start gathering the ingredients.” “I know where we can get the plums.” Marc dashed forward, only to turn around and walk backward as he addressed them with a smile. “They’ll be my contribution for the night. Wait here!” In the next moment, Marc disappeared between two stalls, leaving Alain chuckling at his side. “I will say this for your countryside,” he said. “It does keep everything fresh.” “What did you say to that boy?” “And give away my secrets?” He clicked his tongue. “You know me better than that.” “I suppose I should have known better than to think you’d play fair.” 34

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Alain stepped back. “How have I been unfair? The boy already knew who you were. All I had to do was make dinner sound good enough so that I could get the two of you in a room together. I hardly think that’s cheating.” “You invited him to an intimate dinner in our home, with the promise of your best dish, and, I’m sure, my finest wine. You’ve stacked the deck against me.” “Our home?” Some of the teasing had gone from Alain’s eyes, replaced by a hint of the seriousness that had colored his words the night before. “Well, if you’re going to characterize it like that, I’ll tell him something’s come up and I’ll make dinner for just us. Because nothing would please me more than to have you all to myself, chéri.” Simon blinked. That had been a slip of the tongue, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was a mistake. Alain had him confused, unsure if he was coming or going. “No, no. I wouldn’t want to disappoint him now that you’ve got him excited for the best food he’ll ever eat.” The mask slipped back into place, though it did little to ease Simon’s bewilderment. “That’s the spirit.” Alain wrapped his arm around Simon’s shoulders and led him in the direction Marc had gone. “Let’s find someone selling nuts. I might have promised him my hazelnut crème brulee, too.” “Ahh, the perfect ending to a perfect meal,” Simon said lightly. “What did you promise him for hors d’oeuvre?” “Oh, just a sweet onion gratin. Nothing fancy.” “Either way, I suspect he won’t be going home disappointed.” 35

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“If we let him go home at all.” “He’ll be home at a reasonable hour, and safely tucked away in his own bed.” Alain ducked his head, his mouth at Simon’s ear. “You’d let a scrumptious morsel like him get away? Especially after we’ve fed him? That boy will be so grateful, I’m sure he’d get on his knees and do anything you asked.” He chuckled, and the warm breath drifted down the back of Simon’s neck. “I think you could probably get him on his knees even before I feed him.” As chills raced down his spine, Simon stepped to the side, out of Alain’s reach. He didn’t want to encourage the contact, and he didn’t want Alain to know how strongly the idea affected him. “I’d let a scrumptious morsel like that get away if it means winning the wager. I don’t intend to lose.” In the moment before Alain slipped his sunglasses back into place, Simon caught a twinkle in his eye. “No, of course you don’t.”

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CHAPTER 4 It was cheating. Alain knew it. What had started out as a game, a way to get Simon into a more physical state of mind rather than a friendship one, turned into something more as soon as he discovered Marc Ouvrard was already well aware of who the handsome older gentleman accompanying Alain was. He’d chosen Marc because he had a delectable mouth and a flirtatious gleam in those liquid brown eyes. Finding out Marc was intently curious about Simon had simply sealed the deal. Yet…when Simon had referred to the house as their home, Alain’s heart had skipped a few beats. It was a slip of the tongue, to be sure. He’d caught Simon out in an awkward 37

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situation, and the man had spoken without thinking. But in the space of the few seconds where he thought that Simon might actually already consider Alain as a potential partner, he had known such incredible elation. This was how it could be, he thought. They were already tremendous friends. That sense of knowing he belonged, that he could lean down and kiss Simon without fear of rebuff, was addictive. It was still possible. Alain was sure of it. After all, he had the perfect dishes on the menu to ensure that it would happen. He popped the gratin into the oven. The crème brulees were already done, cooling in the refrigerator. He’d take those out when he served the duck, to give them time before browning the sugar on top. The greens and cheese were torn and chunked for a salad he could toss together to serve with the duck. Everything was in order. Voices drifted from the back garden. The one thing Simon had insisted on was entertaining outside. Probably to feel less threatened, Alain had surmised, but considering they’d just spent the bulk of the afternoon together, he didn’t particularly mind where it happened. Both men turned to look at him when he stepped out onto the rear patio. “Twenty minutes,” he announced, leaning against the wall of the cottage. He stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled. “So what sort of wonderful trouble are you two getting into out here?” “No trouble at all. I was just telling Marc about London, and how I found myself living in Paris.” Simon grinned at the younger man. “Though you were probably expecting a more 38

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interesting story than what you heard.” “Anything’s more interesting than here.” Marc leaned forward in the seat he’d taken opposite Simon, his forearms resting on his knee. A bright flush stained his tanned cheeks. “I don’t know why you’d think this is better.” “Oh, but this is just beautiful,” Alain interrupted. He jerked his chin toward the trees in the distance, upward to the flawless sky. “The beauty in Paris is of man’s creation. What Simon has here can’t be duplicated.” “True,” Simon agreed, “but I think a young man Marc’s age needs something a bit more exciting than natural beauty. Why haven’t you visited Paris?” He lifted a slim shoulder in a casual shrug. “My parents need me. Until they don’t, I’m stuck.” “Your parents are lucky to have a responsible son like you.” Simon glanced over his shoulder to where Alain was still standing. “Why don’t you come over and join us?” He wanted to watch, but more importantly, he didn’t want to give Simon enough distraction to spoil the bet. But making a scene about it would only make Marc skittish, so he pushed away from the wall and sauntered over. Taking the seat next to Marc on the bench, he lightly grasped the young man’s shoulder in order to pull him back. It meant he leaned against Alain’s arm, and gave Alain opportunity to absently stroke his biceps. Two different motions that Simon tracked every inch of. “There’s something to be said about responsibility. But there also comes a time in a man’s life when he has to be a 39

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little selfish and do what’s right for him. We only have so long to live on this rock, you know.” “That’s why I threw in the towel and retired while everybody else worked themselves into an early grave. Everybody I knew seemed intent on making as much money as they possibly could, and then dying before they had the chance to enjoy it.” “Yeah, I agree.” Marc didn’t pull away from Alain’s touch, and his muscles twitched beneath his fingertips. “I don’t get the need to work yourself to death. My parents are the same way. But I don’t understand why you decided to come here instead of traveling or something.” Simon chuckled. “I’ve traveled. I’ve been all over the world, from Hong Kong to Toronto. But there’s something about France that keeps a hold of me.” Alain winked. “My food.” “Could be. Though there are world class chefs in other cities.” “Freedom, then. To be who and what you wish to be.” “I should go get the wine,” Simon said, standing up, “so we can drink to that.” Alain rose as well. “And I should check on dinner. It would do my reputation no good to have it ruined by an awful meal.” Simon nodded at Marc. “You wait here. I’ll be right back with the wine.” He ducked inside the door and into the cooler kitchen, Alain right on his heels. “You don’t think it was rude to leave our guest all alone?” 40

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“It’s only for a moment.” He grabbed a tea towel to open the oven, peering inside to check on the gratin. “And I really do need to check on the food.” “I’m sure it’s as perfect as it always is.” Alain straightened and watched as Simon took the bottle of wine off ice and uncorked it. He had only selected one from the cellar, silently daring Alain to say something about it, but Alain hadn’t bothered. Simon might have been doing his best to keep himself from temptation, but Alain didn’t think he would need the aid of alcohol to best the other man. “You’re very familiar with him,” Simon added. “Not that he seems to mind.” “I’m familiar with most people.” He cocked his head. “Does it bother you?” “No. There’s no reason for it to bother me.” “Yet, you mention it.” “Well,” Simon smiled, “you’ve got me there. Maybe I was just making an observation.” “Maybe.” Though Alain didn’t think so. “But this one practically begs to be touched. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he’s still a virgin.” “And you’re just the one to corrupt him, eh?” “No. You are.” Simon shook his head. “How could I debauch the young man when I’ve got to see him and his family every day? I can’t just disappear back to Paris like you.” “I sincerely doubt that the pleasures you’d introduce him to could ever be considered debauchery. You’re far too 41

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considerate. And you said it yourself. It gets lonely.” Alain smiled. “I’m merely thinking of your welfare, my friend. His parents would likely think an educated man such as yourself would be good company for their son.” Simon’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I have a feeling Lucifer himself doesn’t have such a silver tongue. And we better get out there again before he gets bored and wanders away.” Alain tossed the towel onto the counter. “We’ll just have to tie him down to keep him in one place. It’s a shame you don’t have that dog yet.” He turned for the door. “We could just use your leash on him instead.” “Somebody should use a leash on you.” “If that’s an offer, I most keenly accept.” “It’s not. Just another observation.” “Of course.” He held the door open for Simon, half barring the path so that the other man would have to brush against him in order to exit. “You’re very fond of those.” “What can I say?” Simon said as he stepped past. “I’m an observant fellow.” Alain dropped his gaze to Simon’s taut ass to watch him walk out to Marc. “Did you hear that?” he said, raising his voice so that the younger man could know it was addressed to him. “Simon here believes that he’s observant. What do you make of that?” Marc glanced back and forth between them as Alain strode forward to resume his seat next to him. “He seems so.” “You think so?” Simon poured two glasses of wine and 42

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gave one to each of them. Alain waited while Marc tentatively sipped the liquid. “I must not be very observant, since I failed to notice you all this time.” Marc ran his tongue over his lower lip, watching Simon through his lashes. “So maybe you can make it up to me now.” He scooted over, pressing more firmly into Alain’s side in order to create a large enough space on the bench for Simon to sit. “You can notice me much better if you’re not sitting so far away.” Simon slowly filled his glass. Alain half expected Simon to decline Marc’s offer and keep his distance. He was determined to win, after all. A safe amount of space would be the best way to insure his victory. But Simon set the bottle on the table, and then lowered himself to the bench. “You’re right. I am taking more notice of you now.” Alain mirrored Marc’s brilliant smile. Simon was now in closer quarters, close enough to touch to his heart’s content. He settled for only the casual glance as he caressed Marc’s arm, however, his knuckles brushing along Simon’s chest, his fingertips occasionally meeting bare skin. “I think I could stay like this all night,” he remarked. “You, Marc?” Marc nodded, though his eyes remained intent on Simon. “It’s a pity, then, that your food is going to be done in just a few minutes. We won’t be quite so cozy at the dinner table.” “We can come back out here after we eat,” Marc said eagerly. Alain met Simon’s gaze over the young man’s head, 43

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unable to conceal his amusement. “You heard him. We’ll just come back out afterward.” Simon smiled. “That’s fine with me. We can spend all night out here in the garden, gazing up at the stars, and talking about Paris.” “Or we could spend all night out here doing other things.” Marc shifted to look back at Alain. “What other things?” Squeezing Marc’s shoulder, Alain pulled him slightly away from Simon in order to bend their heads together. “Things Simon is too much of a gentleman to ask for without more wine,” he said in a mock whisper. He knew Simon heard. He counted on it. “So let’s you and me make sure he gets plenty, eh?” Simon sipped from his glass, and a drop of the wine clung to the corner of his mouth before he licked it away. “I don’t think there’s any amount of wine that could make me behave as less than a gentleman.” “That just means he’ll say please and thank you.” Alain let his fingers drift to the back of Marc’s neck, massaging gently as he turned him to look at Alain more directly. “Where I’m a brute. If I want to kiss you, I shall.” He saw the widening of Marc’s eyes before he leaned in. He saw his lips part in anticipation. But what truly made Alain’s cock jump was catching the flare of Simon’s nostrils out of the corner of his eye. And the way Simon didn’t look away as he pressed a soft kiss to the young man’s gorgeous mouth. Marc seemed eager for more than just a light kiss, but 44

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Alain didn’t attempt to deepen the caress. The young man’s breath was sweet, and his lips firm. It was all too easy to imagine wrapping his arms around Marc’s trim figure and plundering his mouth until they were both breathless, while Simon watched each and every second. But he was certain there would be plenty of time for that later. The timer went off in the kitchen, indicating the gratin was done. Simon jumped to his feet immediately. “I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m starving.” Alain was slower to rise, brushing his broad thumb over Marc’s lower lip. “I hope you have a big appetite.” He stood and stretched, not bothering to hide the line of his erection from either man. “I’m not letting this night end until everybody’s fully sated.” *

*

*

Simon believed him. And that belief only intensified as they sat down to dinner, Alain careful to put Marc between them. Alain continued to be familiar with the young man, touching him at intervals, leaning a little bit too close, wiping a bit of food from the side of his mouth. Simon felt he should be more interested in Marc’s reactions than Alain’s behavior, but it was the older man who captured his attention. He had never seen Alain be this seductive. Charming, yes. And he never doubted that Alain had more than enough company—he never hid the fact that he liked sex and even if he wasn’t interested in a relationship, he did have a string of 45

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younger boyfriends. But he had never seen Alain in action, and it was distracting and frustrating and twisted Simon up in ways he didn’t even want to think about. Simon didn’t even know why he was in this situation. Well, he did know why. He could trace it back to the moment he imagined Alain fucking the boy on his waitstaff—Gilles. The thought had caught his attention, had been intriguing, somehow. It was that thought that prompted him to agree to the wager. Now he was trapped in a situation that was really his own making. Alain had given him an out, and he hadn’t taken it. He hadn’t really wanted to take it. His concerns were still prominent in his mind. He ruined relationships. He was actually quite good at it. He lacked the ability or the desire to make a commitment, and eventually normal people wanted more than great sex. They wanted the sort of easy friendship and companionship he already shared with Alain. Sex never led to companionship—it wasn’t unreasonable to think that sex would destroy the friendship he actually cherished and had tried to cultivate. But it was difficult to think about that when Alain looked at him with knowing eyes and flirted with the younger man between them. It was even harder when Marc took one bite of the crème brulee and promptly made a sound of ecstasy that only belonged in a bedroom. “I told you, you would like it.” Reaching across, Alain sank his spoon into Simon’s dessert and brought it full up to 46

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Simon’s mouth. “Your turn.” Do not let him feed you. Do not let him feed you. Despite the very prominent voice of warning in his head, Simon obediently parted his lips and allowed Alain to feed him the sweet dessert. He couldn’t stop his own small moan of delight as the crème brulee melted on his tongue. Alain smiled at him as he pulled the spoon away, and Simon’s annoyance was momentarily banished. “You’re an artist, Alain.” “I think this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Marc effused. Alain leaned in and whispered something in Marc’s ear, for once too low to be overheard. The effect was immediate, however. Marc gasped, and more pink rose in his cheeks as he glanced furtively at Simon. Simon felt a small twinge of guilt at getting Marc caught up in the middle of this, but if Alain was right—and he had no reason to believe Alain was wrong—that’s exactly where Marc wanted to be. There were worse things that could happen to a young man than a night of the richest food, the finest wine, and mind-blowing sex. Not that Simon had been considering how mind-blowing the sex could be. “What are you whispering in his ear?” Simon asked in English. To his credit, Alain didn’t pretend to be offended. “I simply suggested that nothing could compare to more carnal treats,” he replied, in his accented English. “He’s the one who 47

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immediately thought of you.” He reached for his wineglass with a smile. “Not that I can blame him.” “Oh, I don’t blame him. I blame you. Remind me to never agree to another wager with you.” Alain took a small sip, his gaze thoughtful as they rested on Simon. “If you’d like to call an end to this, you may. I won’t hold it against you.” Simon focused on his dessert, taking another small bite. Alain’s concoction was far too rich and sweet. It could only be savored in small amounts. “You mean, we’ll pretend the wager never happened?” “What are you talking about?” Marc asked, his pleasant smile never leaving his face. Simon switched back to French. “The sweet nothings Alain keeps whispering in your ear.” “Our host is of the opinion that I’m compromising your virtue.” Alain’s attention never wavered from Simon, his tone still amiable. “Perhaps you should explain to him what he doesn’t quite want to see for himself.” For a moment, Marc looked confused. Simon was ready to correct Alain’s assertion, to try and soothe his guest’s concerns, when the young man focused his soft eyes on him. “Do you not know how much I admire you?” he asked. “Because I do. Very much.” Simon faltered, and he was tempted to just focus on the food in front of him, and then focus on making coffee, and then cleaning the kitchen. “Well, I appreciate that, Marc. I like you, too.” 48

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A slight weight settled on his knee beneath the table. Marc’s hand was long and slender, but the path it took along the top of Simon’s thigh weighed more with each inch. “Alain has just given me courage. I would never have thought I’d have a chance with a man such as yourself.” It was one thing to rebuff Alain—and that hadn’t exactly been easy—but it was quite another to push this earnest young man away. Especially with Alain looking over Marc’s shoulder. “A chance?” “A chance.” He smiled around the word, even as his hand crept higher, closer to Simon’s semi-hard cock. “You’re a man of the world, you’ve traveled, you’ve experienced things I’ll only get to dream about. I’m sure you could have your pick of partners.” His fingertips slid deeper between Simon’s thighs, caressing with every word. “But I’d like the chance to thank you for choosing to spend the day with me. It’s the least I can do. The very least.” By the time Marc reached the final syllable, Simon was fully erect. He could fuck Marc all night, and all he had to do was agree to share him with Alain. Which would mean seeing Alain’s strong, naked body, admiring the corded muscles. It would mean seeing Alain bend Mark over the table, or a chair. But it wouldn’t mean touching Alain. They didn’t need to touch to give Marc what he wanted, what he was asking for. It wasn’t anything worse—or anything more—than he had done with other men in other cities and other times. Simon cupped the back of Marc’s head, noting in a distant way how soft his hair was. He smelled the dessert and the 49

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alcohol on his breath, and his soft brown eyes never left Simon’s face. With a soft sigh, he touched his lips to Marc’s. Marc whimpered at the first contact, opening up to Simon without prompting, without guile. His hands left Simon’s lap to press, hot and fluttering, against his chest instead. It took only a slight shift in his position for Marc to rise from his chair, and an even smaller one to get the young man seated across his lap. Distantly, he heard a chair scrape across the floor. He knew it meant Alain had risen from the table, but he didn’t want to have to break away from Marc’s mouth to determine that for sure. Glass clinked against glass. He thought he heard water run, but then Marc squirmed against his arousal and Simon didn’t hear anything anymore. Not until Alain spoke up. “We should finish dessert off our young friend here. I think my brulee will taste even sweeter then.” Marc lifted his head, his mouth already slightly swollen. Simon briefly considered carrying him into the bedroom, but dismissed the idea. He didn’t want to move. He wanted Marc to stay right where he was, grinding against his cock. Instead of standing, he grasped Marc’s shirt and pulled it over his head, exposing his perfectly defined chest, his flawless skin, and his dark, flat nipples. Simon ran his fingers down Marc’s body, caressing the flesh from his neck to his waistband. He reached for the brulee with his other hand, then smeared the dessert over his nipple. Marc hissed, arching into the contact. His eyes glittered 50

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when they met Simon’s, and his tongue snaked over his lower lip. Without looking away, he cupped the back of Simon’s head and pulled him forward, not stopping until Simon licked along the edge of the sweet. “Oh, yes,” Alain murmured in the background. His hands appeared at the periphery of Simon’s vision, circling the other nipple before tweaking into a taut point. “Does he taste as good as he looks, Simon?” Simon answered with a soft moan, loath to take his mouth away from Marc’s body for even a moment. As soon as he cleared the dessert from his skin, Alain’s finger appeared in Simon’s line of sight, spreading more of the morsel on Marc’s nipple. His tongue briefly touched Alain’s salty, rough finger, and then he was tasting Marc’s smooth skin once again. Fingertips dug into the back of his skull, holding him tight to Marc’s body. When a second set skimmed over his cheek, he glanced up to meet Alain’s gaze, dark and heavy. The other man didn’t smile. If anything, he looked as serious as Simon had imagined the night before on the bench. But the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable, and Simon couldn’t look away as he bent and licked a path up the side of Marc’s neck. Marc shuddered, his head dropping back, his eyes fluttering shut. Simon felt the other man’s cock straining against his jeans, and he fumbled with the zipper, pulling it down to give Marc some relief from the pressure. His cock was slick and hot, fitting perfectly against Simon’s palm. He bit down gently on Marc’s nipple, and his cock twitched against Simon’s hand. 51

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Marc’s moan choked in his throat when rough fingers folded over Simon’s. “We mustn’t let the boy come too soon,” he heard Alain murmur. His hand tightened, adding a new kind of pressure to the young man’s shaft. “We have hours to enjoy him.” “I can…come again…” Marc panted. “Of course, you can.” Alain’s shoulder brushed against Simon’s, his free hand smearing brulee over the other nipple. “But it’s more fun watching you not.” Simon chased Alain’s fingers with his mouth, following the trail of dessert over Marc’s body—across his nipple, up his chest to the hollow of his throat. Marc’s pulse pounded an erratic tattoo under his skin, thrumming against Simon’s tongue and his hand. The warmth from Alain’s palm spread through Simon’s arm, tendrils working up his shoulder and into his chest. “Alain is very bossy,” Simon said, his tongue darting out to catch a bit of the sugar he had missed. “He thinks it his place to tell everybody what they need. Unfortunately, he’s always right.” Hot breath fanned closer to Simon’s ear. “Words you should take to heart, perhaps.” “Alain also likes it when people stand up to him,” Simon continued, studying Alain from the corner of his eye. “So if you want something, be sure to speak up.” Alain snorted, but a smile slanted across his mouth as he straightened. Simon missed the heat of his hand, but together, he and Marc turned their heads to watch Alain pull his shirt 52

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free from his waistband. “Do you do this often?” Marc asked. Simon wasn’t sure who he directed the question to, but his gaze was transfixed by the sight of Alain’s exposed chest as he stripped away his shirt. Simon couldn’t blame him. A light dusting of dark hair highlighted the flat nipples, the occasional silver strand only making it more delicious. Alain might work around food all day, but he hadn’t let his indulgences wage its war with his body. He was as firm and toned as a man fifteen years younger. “Boss people around?” Alain said with a gleam in his eye. “Always.” Simon flexed his fingers, squeezing Marc’s shaft until Marc squirmed against him. His own cock throbbed in response, and he wished Alain would take the initiative about that and free him from the constraints of his pants. “But never like this.” Simon nipped at the skin beneath Marc’s ear. “You’re our first.” “Which makes this memorable in more ways than one.” With his shirt dangling from his fingers, Alain walked around the table for the front hall. “Don’t have too much fun without me. I’ll be right back.” Marc frowned as Alain disappeared. “Where is he going?” Simon didn’t have to look to know where Alain went. “Condoms.” He wrapped his arm around Marc’s back and gently pushed on his chest until he leaned back against Simon’s arm. As soon as Simon had enough space, he reached between their 53

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bodies and quickly unzipped his pants. A sigh escaped him before Marc shifted forward again, smashing their mouths together. Simon was too surprised to respond immediately, but he couldn’t remain frozen for long as Marc’s tongue probed his mouth. The young man’s hands were clumsy in their eagerness. His short nails scratched along Simon’s stomach as he reached down to find his erection, but each rake sent new fire into Simon’s veins. Alain’s hands were rough like that. Rougher. He still felt the calluses against the back of his fingers. When Marc pulled up the shaft, Simon wondered if it would feel different if Alain did it. Then he didn’t have to wonder at all. More pressure constricted around his cock. More heat. He tore away from Marc’s mouth, gasping for air, to see Alain crouched beside them, covering Marc’s hand just like he’d done Simon’s. “You started the real fun without me,” he chastised. “Marc is the real fun tonight,” Simon reminded him, but he didn’t push Alain’s hand away. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—do anything to discourage the unbelievable pressure. He wanted to bury his cock in somebody and at that moment, he didn’t quite care who it was. “You shouldn’t forget that.” “With a prick like this? Impossible.” Alain grasped the long, slim column of Marc’s erection and tugged, shifting their bodies so that their groins were more closely aligned. He pumped them in tandem, slow glides so achingly tight that Marc groaned. With each stroke, their cocks neared each other, until Alain pressed the two shafts 54

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together, using one broad hand to wrap around both of them. “And two is even better.” The tip of Alain’s tongue appeared at the edge of his teeth. He wet his lower lip, and his nostrils flared. Bowing his head, he licked around one velvety crown, then the other, before dropping his jaw to suck both into his mouth. “Oh, God.” In Simon’s surprise and pleasure, he automatically reverted to his native tongue. “Alain, you know this is against the rules…” Alain’s cheeks hollowed, increasing the pressure around Simon’s sensitive head. His slick skin slid against the tip of Marc’s cock, making them both shudder. His tongue was as rough as his hands, and yet, more gentle. “But don’t…don’t stop…” His words were stifled by the return of Marc’s mouth. Hot, greedy kisses twisted everything inside Simon’s head. He couldn’t separate the exquisite texture of Alain’s mouth from the sure sweeps of Marc’s tongue, and the more each took what they wanted, the less Simon needed that separation to happen. He’d promised to share with Alain. Alain might be bending the rules a bit, but he hadn’t abandoned their original aim. Simon cupped Marc’s sac, squeezing his balls gently each time Alain’s tongue danced over their heads. Marc didn’t break the kiss, his chest expanding and contracting as Marc took deep breaths through his nose. The heat of their mouths combined with the several glasses of wine made Simon heady. It was just the sort of feeling he used to seek out as a younger man, but hadn’t experienced for years and years. 55

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He buried his other hand in Alain’s hair, cupping the back of his head. It was the only place he could reach, but he was beginning to understand that it wasn’t the only place Simon wanted to touch Alain. The thought of stroking Alain’s cock, of tasting the pre-come on his smooth skin, only made him more light-headed. Alain tried to take more of their lengths into his mouth, but succeeded in only swallowing a few more inches. It squeezed the two tips together, tighter than anything Simon had ever felt, and just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to take any more, Alain pulled back. The absence of his mouth and hands almost made him cry out. Only the fact that he still had a firm grip in his hair kept Alain from pulling completely away. “I don’t think our young friend came here for a simple blow job.” Alain curled his fingers over the back of Simon’s and pushed his hand farther. Marc’s pants made it tight, but somehow, Alain still managed to find the clenching hole. “You both want something else, don’t you?” A simple blow job? Simon would never characterize what Alain just did as a simple blow job, but he wasn’t going to deny that Alain was right. As Alain guided his fingers deeper, into the tight heat, the blow job moved further and further from his mind. Marc needed to be bent over the table, his face pressed into the tablecloth, his fingers clawing at the edges, as Simon finally slammed into him. He claimed Marc’s mouth in a hard, quick kiss, then pulled his hand away. “Stand up.” 56

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Marc obeyed, so eager, so excited. Alain straightened, too, and Simon noticed for the first time that he’d stripped out of the rest of his clothes when he’d gone for the condoms. His erection jutted from a thatch of dark hair, thicker than Simon had expected, the head fat and swollen. His mouth watered. It watered even more when Alain pressed to the young man’s back and pushed his pants out of the way. “Lay down,” Alain murmured in Marc’s ear. He stroked the slim shaft, swiping his thumb over the tip to bring it wet up to Marc’s mouth. “I think you will be a much better dessert than anything I could create.” They pushed the flatware out of the way, and for once, Simon was unmindful of the danger. Marc moved to lower his stomach onto the table, but Alain stopped him and prompted him to turn around. He stretched out on the table, his perfect cock pressed against his stomach, his body long and lithe and deserving of all the attention Simon could spare. Simon quickly divested himself of his clothes, eager to be free of the uncomfortable material. Their gazes locked on him as soon as he was naked. Marc’s eyes were wide and appreciative, but there wasn’t just appreciation in Alain’s gaze. There was something far more hungry. And even proprietary. He knelt at Marc’s head. Smoothing his hands down the young man’s bare chest, he licked along his ear before saying, “Bend your legs. Show Simon your pretty ass.” Marc did as he was told, his breathing growing more 57

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labored. “I hoped something like this would happen.” He smiled at Simon. “I’m glad you’re going to be my first.” He had suspected as much, despite Marc’s age. There wasn’t much of an opportunity for young men to find dates in the village. Marc’s best chance would have been to go to Paris, where he could have found dozens of men, ready and willing to take what he was so freely offering now. But Marc deserved better than an anonymous fuck in a club on a weekend in the big city. For one thing, an anonymous fuck in a club wouldn’t appreciate just how amazing Marc’s ass was. Simon lowered himself to his knees and gripped Marc’s cheeks, pulling them apart to completely expose his hole. He blew warm air across the clenched muscle, and then circled it with his tongue. He’d make sure Marc wouldn’t feel anything except pleasure. Alain never stopped talking. Soft words, coaxing and intoxicating, echoed all around them, through Marc’s body, into Simon’s skin. The young man quivered and moaned, but neither of them would have stopped Alain, even if they were capable of doing so. Each caress he stole along Marc’s chest might as well have been on Simon’s. By the time Marc’s hole was wet and stretched, ready for more, Simon scorched with the desire to feel exactly what Marc was. “Tell him you want it,” Alain said softly. “You want his cock inside you, yes?” “Oh, yes. God, yes.” Marc’s gaze burned as it locked with Simon’s. “Please. Fuck me.” This time it was Alain’s blue eyes that went straight 58

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through him. “You heard the boy, chéri. Fuck him.” Simon grabbed one of the condoms and ripped at the foil with his teeth. Endorphins flooded his system, and he was mildly surprised his fingers didn’t shake as he unrolled the condom down his shaft. Marc’s chest rose and fell rapidly, a sign of his arousal, but Simon thought it might also indicate his nerves. He wanted to reassure Marc that it wouldn’t hurt, but that would probably be a lie. His eyes fell on the bottle of lube next to the condoms, and he almost smiled. Of course, Alain had been fully prepared. He poured a healthy amount into his palm and coated the condom, then used what remained on his fingers to slick Marc’s waiting hole. “Are you ready?” Simon asked thickly. Mark nodded. “Yes. Please.” Simon aligned his cock with Marc’s ass, then pushed the head past the resistant muscle. There was a moment when he thought Marc might push him away, but then he wrapped his legs around Simon’s hips and silently encouraged him to continue sliding forward. Alain’s eyes glittered. He licked his lips, his gaze locked on the junction of their bodies. The farther Simon sank into the tight, trembling channel, the more Alain straightened, forced to stand in order to keep on watching. His rapid breathing matched theirs. Dropping his hand to his cock, he fisted his length, squeezing it just as hard as he’d squeezed Marc’s. “He wants your cock, too,” Simon said gruffly. He was 59

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shocked by the sound of his own voice. “Don’t disappoint him.” “Please,” Marc echoed. He turned his head, reaching blindly until he found Alain’s hip. Cupping the back of the man’s head, Alain guided his cock closer, running the wet tip along his lips until they shone. Simon couldn’t look away. As glorious as it felt sinking into Marc’s tight ass, it was even more so watching him chase after more of Alain. “You’re not disappointed, are you?” Marc shook his head at Alain’s question. His lips parted. The sigh of satisfaction as Alain pushed inside rattled through all three of them. As soon as they were both completely buried in Marc’s body, they both froze. Simon needed a moment to adjust to the muscles gripping his shaft. He needed to give Marc a chance to adjust to him, to stretch around his width and length. But more than that, Simon needed the chance to simply admire Alain’s body, and the way Marc’s lips closed around the base of his cock. He simply had an amazing body, made even more distinctive when compared to Marc’s smooth features. But then he needed to move. The pressure around his cock was just too much, and he felt the need for friction in every nerve-ending. He slid out of Marc’s body with a moan, and almost immediately thrust forward again. Marc’s cry was muffled by Alain’s cock, but it still sliced through Simon. Alain’s fingertips fluttered over the sculpture of Marc’s face. The gentleness surprised him. Simon knew it shouldn’t. 60

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Those hands were capable of creating magic. He’d eaten some of the most delicate delights they had ever made. And yet, seeing Alain caress the flawless skin made him itch to know what Marc was feeling. Calluses would scrape over his body. They’d tickle. They’d elicit shivers until Simon wondered if he could come just from imagining them. While Simon set the tempo with his ass, Marc set the rhythm with his mouth. He was the one who bobbed up and down the thick length. He was the one to suckle at the tip. He was the one to reach around and cup Alain’s ass, to drag him even closer. Both Simon and Alain groaned when Marc’s throat bulged from swallowing him down. Marc may have been inexperienced, but he was enthusiastic. He opened himself to every sensation and everything Simon and Alain wanted to do to him. Simon tried to keep his rhythm slow, even careful, and he might have been able to stick to that sort of tempo, but for two things. Marc very obviously wanted more—he wanted as much as he could get. He moved with each thrust, pushing for more. Simon almost thought he would fuck himself on Simon’s cock, if Simon had allowed it. The second problem was Alain. The sight of him seared to Simon’s mind. More and more desire coursed through him, and a part of Simon wanted to mute that desire any way he could. Even if that meant pounding into Marc. Cries came from Marc’s throat with each drive into his body, but they remained subdued by the cock filling his 61

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mouth. His nails dug into Alain’s flesh, drawing a hiss from the other man. With his lip curled back, he stretched the short distance necessary to run his palm down Marc’s cock, over his balls, to scissor his index and middle fingers around Simon’s shaft, sinking into his hole. “Is he as sweet as you thought he would be?” Alain asked, his voice rough with desire. “Yes.” Simon dragged his gaze from Marc’s body to meet Alain’s eyes. “Sweeter.” The space between his fingers narrowed, but Alain didn’t look away as he forced Simon to feel more and more. Marc’s body shook, from sucking, from fucking, and Simon gripped his thighs in order to readjust his angle. Marc cried out, tearing his mouth away from Alain. “There,” he panted. “More of that.” Alain slid his hand up to stroke the young man’s shaft. “Make him come. I’ll bet he screams.” Simon made sure not to change his angle, and he hit Marc’s prostate again and again, in rapid succession. He could feel the pleasure growing in Marc’s body, especially when Alain began stroking his cock in short, hard jerks. Marc’s head hung off the edge of the table, his now-empty mouth opening and closing with each gulping breath. Without breaking his tempo, Simon covered Alain’s hand, applying more pressure to Marc’s shaft. That was the final touch he needed. And he did scream, the sound ripping from his throat. As stream after stream of come coated Marc’s stomach, Simon felt his own groin tighten, his balls pulling tight against 62

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his body. Alain freed his hand from Marc’s cock and brought his come-coated fingers up to Simon’s lips. His tongue darted out, and as soon as he tasted the salty fluid on Alain’s rough skin, his cock jerked against Marc’s walls, and pleasure crashed through him. Marc dove for Alain’s cock, but through his haze, Simon was only partially aware of just how vigorously he was sucking away. It was Alain’s groan that gave away his orgasm. His hand cupped the back of Simon’s head, and without the capacity to fight him, Simon felt himself pulled forward, both of them angling over Marc’s body until their mouths crashed together. Simon should have expected that, and maybe he had, a little bit. He certainly didn’t have the energy or the desire to push Alain away. Alain’s tongue slid against his, moving deeper into his mouth, exploring the curves and the boundaries. Simon returned the hard caress, his teeth scraping against Alain’s lips, his tongue soothing the skin he aggravated. For a very brief moment, he forgot about the third body between them, aware only of the fact that Alain was an amazing kisser. Only Marc’s hands pulling at theirs was able to separate them. Simon caught a glimmer in Alain’s eyes of something he couldn’t quite identify, but then Alain was bent over, devouring Marc’s mouth as well. “And you didn’t even have to come to Paris to get a taste of just how good it could be.” Straightening, Alain dragged his fingers through the remaining fluid on Marc’s stomach and 63

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lifted them to Simon’s mouth again. “I think it’s been a most magnificent night, don’t you?” Simon didn’t have the excuse of Mark’s constricting, writhing body pushing him closer to orgasm. He didn’t have the excuse of a heady sense of power. He didn’t have any excuse at all, and he knew he should turn away from the offered fingers and not offer Alain any more encouragement. Instead, he licked the pads of Alain’s fingers clean, like they were coated in the sweetest delicacy. “Most magnificent,” Simon murmured. “Marc?” “Yes.” He sighed with his whole body. “Magnificent.”

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CHAPTER 5 As tempting as it was to keep the young man the entire night, Alain knew it was impossible. It was a tight-knit community. Simon had to live here. Marc would be discreet, and his parents would likely suspect, but the last thing Alain was going to do was make it unnecessarily difficult for his friend. Which meant he took Marc home before midnight. And he avoided his kiss when he pulled up in front of his home. For all his youth and innocence, Marc handled it with grace. “You and Simon…” He shook his head, his wide smile finishing what his words could not. “You’re coming in for the fireworks and festivities tomorrow, right?” he said instead. 65

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“It’s not Paris, but we still know how to throw a party.” “We’ll see.” He had no idea what Simon had planned, if Alain had interfered too much already. For as far as he knew, Simon was going to make him drive back to Paris as soon as he returned, for daring to take as many liberties as he already had that evening. “But if we do, you’ll be the first to know.” Marc smiled and climbed out of the car. He waved as Alain drove away, but already Alain’s thoughts were on the cottage and the man he was returning to. The man he’d finally been able to touch, to kiss, to taste as he’d wanted for so very long. He didn’t regret a moment, though he knew he had run a serious risk. That wasn’t what Simon had agreed to. He’d agreed to share, not let Alain kiss him. Or touch him. Though both were more explosive than even Alain had anticipated. When he pulled into the driveway, all the lights were out in the house. Alain frowned, but as he pocketed his keys, he saw a slash of yellow across one of the trees near the rear. The back light was on, overlooking the garden. Simon must be there. He found his friend sitting at the table in the garden, now changed into sweats and a T-shirt. Alain had never seen Simon dressed so casually before. It was almost more intimate than seeing his naked body. He had a glass of wine in front of him, though it looked untouched. He glanced up when Alain stepped into the garden, but his face didn’t reveal his thoughts. In fact, it was impossible to read him at all. “Sit down. Would you like some wine?” 66

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Alain nodded and went into the house to fetch a second glass. When he returned, Simon hadn’t moved, and he took the seat opposite him at the table, already fearful of how this might play out. “Marc extended his thanks again for the evening,” he said as he poured out his wine. “He asked what our plans were for tomorrow.” “I thought we would spend the day and evening in the village. Did he indicate he wanted to see us again?” Alain leaned back in his chair, slipping out of the light in order to hide the disappointment in his face. He’d known, of course. He’d suspected Simon would take this route. That didn’t mean he hadn’t still raised his hopes slightly. “He seemed amenable to it, yes.” He sipped, grateful for the warmth the wine provided. “But he understands it’s up to us. Or you, rather.” “I think I’m going to need a longer refractory period than just a single night. That wasn’t…anything like I had expected.” He couldn’t help but smile a little. “Marc was certainly an eager student.” “Yes, he was. Marc was exactly what I expected. Other parts of the evening were unexpected.” This was where he should apologize. Alain knew it. But he didn’t want to. The last thing he was, was sorry. “If I made you uncomfortable, you should have stopped me.” “Yes, I should have.” He sipped the wine thoughtfully. “I 67

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probably should have done things differently. I can’t, don’t, blame you for what happened.” Alain took a long, silent breath. Perhaps things were not as bad as he feared. “I don’t regret it,” he confessed. “But please don’t blame yourself, either. We were caught up in the moment. It happens.” “Yes, but never quite like that. Not to me, at any rate. And I don’t think you were caught up in the moment. I think you got what you wanted out of the evening, but what I don’t understand is why. Why come here now, Alain? Why come to me?” “You sell your charms short.” “It’s not about my charms, Alain. I don’t need you to reassure me that I’m really lovable and great and we can be happy together. I need you to answer my question. What has changed for you?” Alain bought a few more seconds by taking a long sip of his wine. He owed Simon the whole story. As his friend, he should have told him from the start, though he’d hoped to sound less pathetic by not. But if he wished for anything to continue, he knew the time had come. “Last winter, I got an offer from an American to buy Rêver.” “What happened? Are you considering selling it now?” “No, I turned it down. He wanted me to step away from everything, leave it behind without looking back. He tried to argue that a man of my age should be enjoying life, not killing himself over it.” He smiled in the darkness. “I don’t think he 68

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particularly cared for the split lip he flew back to America with.” “Did you assault him because he said you should be enjoying life, or because he insulted you by offering to buy the most important thing in your world?” “Because he implied that if I didn’t enjoy it now, it would be too late.” “Well, you aren’t getting any younger, my friend.” “Maybe not, but I don’t plan on leaving any time soon.” Alain rubbed wearily at his eyes. The euphoria from the evening was starting to wane, leaving him tired and wishing he could crawl into bed, preferably with Simon’s warm, solid body at his side. That wasn’t going to happen. It might not ever happen. That left him even more tired. “I know this sounds like one of those awful midlife crises, but it’s not. Ultimately, I’m not unhappy. I’m just…lonely.” “I don’t think it sounds like one of those awful midlife crises. I think this is as good a time as any to reevaluate your life and the decisions you’ve made. I’m just…I’m concerned you’re just looking for something that’s convenient for you.” Alain snorted. “You think it’s easier to pursue something with a man who lives two hours away from Paris? Someone who hates my home with a passion? There’s nothing convenient about that.” “You’re right. It’s amazingly inconvenient. How did you plan to split your time between me and Paris?” “A few days here, a weekend there. Or vice versa. I know you like your solitude. You’d probably enjoy the break from 69

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my company.” The further implication of Simon’s question sank in, however, and Alain tilted his head to regard him curiously. “You don’t act as if it’s such an awful thing anymore. That it’s something you might even consider.” “I never thought it was such an awful thing. It would be an awful thing to lose your friendship. It would be an awful thing to push our relationship until it breaks. Don’t you think that could have happened tonight?” “Honestly? No. Because I would have stopped the moment you told me to. I still would, chéri. I would never force my attentions where they are unwanted.” “I know you wouldn’t. Which is the problem, Alain. I’m not sure if your attentions are unwanted. I don’t mean that to be a source of…false hope. I mean that quite literally.” Alain bowed his head in acquiescence. It was more than he’d expected. “But you enjoyed yourself tonight, didn’t you? I did. And not simply because of Marc.” “I did enjoy myself. It was the most amazing night I’ve had since…well, probably since I was Marc’s age. And I guess this means you don’t have to cook for the rest of your holiday.” He chuckled. “I don’t have to. But I will. Because I like the look on your face when you take that first bite.” Simon smiled for the first time since Alain had returned. “I appreciate that, because it’d be a real shame if we had to subsist on my amateur efforts.” “You look like you’ve managed just fine without me. As much as that pains me to admit.” 70

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Simon’s smile widened. “Maybe I’ve learned a little something from you over the years.” He became more somber, his attention going back to the wine. “I guess I still don’t quite understand what you want for the two of us. Friends with benefits? Or more of a commitment?” He had to tread lightly. Simon already didn’t quite grasp why it was Alain had shown up on his doorstep. He wasn’t the one who had been looking at his life for the past eight months and found it lacking. Discovered that the man he wanted most was one who wasn’t within arm’s reach. “If I admit a commitment, would that make a mess of it for good?” “I don’t think it’d make a mess of it for good. It might reveal you to be an old fool, though. I don’t mean to, but I always disappoint people who want a commitment from me. I get bored. I get restless. I get annoyed. I don’t want to do that to you.” Alain laughed. “If I haven’t driven you away at this point, I don’t know what I could possibly do to make it happen. There’s a reason you’re my oldest friend. I think that reason is exactly why we’d be so good together.” Simon finished his wine and reached for the bottle, before reconsidering and pushing the bottle aside. “I…I’ve got some thinking to do, yet. I should probably turn in for the night.” With a nod, Alain rose. “That’s probably wise for both of us. Especially if you’re going to make me get up at such an ungodly hour again.” Simon stood and gathered the glasses. “Of course I am. 71

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We want to make the most of the festivities, don’t we?” Alain grabbed the bottle and followed him inside. “Whatever you wish.” He clapped a hand between his shoulder blades, a sign of friendship he refused to back away from. “I shouldn’t complain, I suppose. Our walk into the village today certainly reaped a reward I didn’t anticipate.” “I don’t have to keep an eye on you tomorrow to make sure you don’t pick up on any more innocent boys, do I?” “This village has more than one?” Simon grinned. “There are a few I have been pointedly ignoring.” “You fared well corrupting young Marc. I think you’ve discovered a secret talent.” “I’ve always known I’ve had that talent. But I’m modest. I try not to show off too often.” His laughter filled the kitchen. He had to resist the urge to bundle Simon into his arms. “If your thinking keeps us friends instead of something more,” Alain said, “I’m dragging you into Paris. You’re going to show off for me properly there.” Simon laughed. “I suppose I might have a few more tricks up my sleeve to show off someday.” He stepped out of the kitchen, then paused and turned back to Alain. “Pleasant dreams. I have a feeling I shall have some.” His smile warmed, and he could only nod as Simon disappeared. His dreams would indeed be pleasant. He just hoped Simon’s were nice enough to merit further discussion of their futures. 72

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Because the more time he spent with the man, the more certain Alain became he was the one.

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CHAPTER 6 Alain woke with golden sunshine burning through his eyelids. He blinked once and rolled onto his side, burrowing deeper into his pillow. Simon’s guest bed was as comfortable as his back in Paris. It was amazing to think that he’d slept so heavily— His eyes opened. The light filtering through the curtains was far too bright to be early dawn. If he had to guess, he’d think it was eight or nine. Reaching for his watch on the nightstand, he had to squint in order to see the time. Nine-twelve. Alain frowned. They were supposed to go into the village 74

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early. Why hadn’t Simon wakened him? Without bothering to get dressed, Alain padded out to the kitchen, to be greeted by the rich scent of brewing coffee. The back door stood wide open, music drifting from the garden. “Simon?” “Perfect timing,” Simon said, stepping into the doorway. “I just finished laying out your breakfast.” “Breakfast?” His head was clear. He couldn’t have misunderstood. “I thought we were going into the village.” “I went into your room this morning to wake you up, but then I thought you deserved to sleep an extra few hours. So I went down to the market myself.” “You didn’t have to do that.” Though he was oddly pleased that Simon would go to such extremes. “Is there anything I can do?” “You can sit down and eat breakfast with me,” Simon said, gesturing at the chair. “Did you sleep well?” Alain followed him back outside, his eyes widening at the food waiting for them. A bowl of fresh fruit salad rested in the middle of the table, while each plate held a golden omelet, puffed high with red peppers, mushrooms, and cheese. Croissants and butter sat between their place settings. His mouth watered. “I slept great,” he said, taking the nearest seat. “You went to a lot of trouble.” “No, it wasn’t too much trouble.” Simon poured a cup of coffee. “Well, it might have been a little trouble. But I was up 75

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very early this morning, so I thought I could make the most of my time.” “Well, this guest very much appreciates everything you’ve done.” The croissants were warm, so warm the butter melted as soon as it slid off the knife. The silence that settled between them as they dug into their food was far more comfortable than he’d expected, considering the events of the night before. Had he imagined it? No, but maybe he’d imagined Simon’s reaction afterward. He wouldn’t be acting like this unless… He wanted to forget it ever happened. That had to be it. Simon was putting the entire incident behind him. The croissant didn’t melt quite so quickly on his tongue then. “It won’t take me long to shower after we eat,” Alain said. “We can still be in the village at a decent hour, in spite of my lazy start.” “Actually, I was hoping we could stay in and have a more private celebration. Take it easy.” Simon tore a chunk off his croissant and seemed to really savor the flavor and texture of the pastry. “Unless you were looking forward to going into the village.” He arched an eyebrow in surprise. “No, I was simply looking forward to spending the day with you. Are you sure?” “Oh, yes, I’m sure. I don’t have the sort of energy I used to. When I was younger, I wouldn’t think twice about fucking all night, partying all day, and then staying up all night again, but I’m not that young anymore.” 76

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“Fucking all night?” His mouth twitched. “What, did you sneak Marc back into your bed after I retired?” “My point exactly. It felt like all night. Or maybe that’s just because I didn’t stop thinking about it for a moment.” Alain set the rest of his croissant aside in order to pick up his fork. He shouldn’t be excited simply because Simon had given so much thought to their evening with Marc. It had been pretty incredible. But the fact that he’d gone to so much more trouble this morning, with Marc nowhere to be seen, could lead a man into making assumptions. Assumptions that would hurt in more ways than one if he was wrong. “I hope that means your dreams exceeded your expectations,” he said lightly. “I didn’t really get any sleep. I told you last night I had a lot of thinking to do. That’s why I was up so early.” “Ah, well, then it’s just as good we’re keeping this private today.” His fork sank through the fluffy eggs. “But now you have to let me pamper you the rest of the holiday. And if you argue with me, I’ll tie you to your chair so you don’t have a choice anymore.” “You can pamper me, if it makes you happy,” Simon said mildly. “No need to break out the cuffs and the ropes. The only thing I ask today is that we are in the garden after sunset. I’ve arranged for a wonderful fireworks display.” Alain chuckled. “I’d sit out here with you, even if a freak rainstorm soaked us through to the skin.” He smiled, unable to resist. It felt too much like it had before all the tension had arisen between them with his offer. “Though I can’t say that 77

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wouldn’t be interesting.” “It would be, but then we’d both catch colds and spend the next several days laid up and miserable. Not that I would have a problem being laid up with you.” He paused in mid-chew. Simon looked completely at ease, tearing pieces of his croissant as he watched Alain’s obvious confusion. “This thinking you did last night…” Alain chose his words carefully, unwilling to look either desperate or idiotic for hoping for the best. “It sounds like you might have reached some conclusions.” Simon grinned. “I wondered when you’d catch on. Yes, I’ve reached a few conclusions, about you and about us. Actually, I didn’t reach conclusions about you.” Simon’s face turned thoughtful, and he abandoned his croissant. “I thought about me, and all the shitty things I’ve done to people over the years. And I wondered why it was I wanted to protect you from that, no matter the cost.” His heart pounded against his ribs, demanding an exodus. “And did you come up with an answer?” “Quite simply, I care about you too much.” “I care about you, too.” Setting his fork down, Alain took a risk and reached across to settle his hand over Simon’s. “And for the record, you don’t have to protect me from anything. Nobody knows you like I do. I wouldn’t have come here if I thought you could scare me away.” “I can’t scare you away because you’re too stubborn. The more I tried, the harder you would dig in your heels, on 78

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principle.” Alain smiled. “I’ve never heard any complaints from anybody who’s felt my heels digging in before.” “Before we get to the point of testing that claim, I’d better finish what I wanted to say. I won’t relocate back to Paris, but I will consent to long weekends and holidays. I don’t want to live with anybody, but I would like to move your bags in the master suite. And if any other American offers to buy Rêver, the first thing you do is pop him in the nose, because it’s my favorite place to dine in Paris, and it wouldn’t be the same without you.” Every word that fell from his lips was another wish finding life again. All Alain had ever wanted was the chance. He knew—as much as he knew anything—that he and Simon would be good together. They would be better than good. They complemented each other in ways no other people did for them. But Simon was a careful sort. He was right about his commitment issues. He’d always argued he wasn’t really going to be staying in France, that one day he’d likely return to England, but the time had passed and here he still was. Small steps. Careful steps. That was what worked with Simon. Alain had known that from the start. If Simon was willing to take one of those in committing to long weekends, to sharing a bed when they were together, it was as much as he knew he could ask for. Curling his fingers through Simon’s, Alain lifted his hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the palm. “I would only ask for one more thing.” He didn’t wait for Simon to press. 79

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“Exclusivity.” “Exclusivity?” Simon waited a beat and then nodded. “Absolutely.” Alain beamed. “You won’t regret it, chéri.” Now that he had Simon’s hand in his, he didn’t want to let go. He nibbled at the heel before using the hold to lean closer. “Though if you find the need to invite young Marc for a little diversion, I can’t say that I’d object.” “I have a feeling that after last night, I won’t need to invite Marc for a little diversion. I think he will knock on our door without any prompting from us. You won’t be tempted to go astray by young waiters in tight pants?” “Our door. I like the sound of that.” Unable to resist, Alain stretched the last few inches to brush his mouth across the corner of Simon’s. “And no, I won’t be tempted. You’re all I’ve been able to think about for months now.” “Oh? I think I’m flattered. But that’s not true for last night, was it?” The scent of Simon’s aftershave filled his head, made it swim. Alain’s mouth watered to taste more than he had, but he held back, settling for skimming his lips over the strong jaw. “It’s true,” he said softly. “Marc was a wonderful little morsel, but I did it for you. For the chance to get to see how magnificent you are without you needing to be self-conscious that I was there. You are extraordinary, you know. I’ve always thought so.” “You are, too. I mean, I’ve always thought you were one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. But I had no 80

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idea…” He skimmed his hand over Alain’s shoulder and down his back. “I can honestly say I saw you in an entirely different light.” His mouth hovered at Simon’s ear. “Then that makes our bet the smartest thing I ever did. Do you know why I slept so well? Because I imagined myself in young Marc’s place. I was quite jealous of him, you know. All that attention of yours he got.” “If you’ve had enough to eat, I’ll be more than happy to give you all the attention you need.” Alain didn’t want all his hard work to go to waste, but Simon didn’t seem concerned about the fact they’d barely touched his wonderful breakfast. He stood and pulled Simon with him, coming around the edge of the table to press their bodies together. “A kiss first.” He licked his suddenly dry lips. He shouldn’t be nervous. He’d kissed Simon the night before. “To seal the deal.” “That sounds much better than the traditional handshake,” Simon murmured, gripping Alain’s shoulders. The scent of coffee and roses surrounded them, mingling with Simon’s aftershave to create a heady bouquet. Simon tilted his head, but Alain didn’t close the final inch between them. He wanted Simon to do this on his own. He wanted Simon to obliterate whatever barriers still stood between them. He didn’t have to wait for long. Simon’s firm lips found his, his tongue probing the corner of Alain’s mouth. He’d waited too long for this. An eternity. Alain realized 81

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now that the kiss the previous night hadn’t counted. It had just been a tease of what everything could be, because this, this soft exploration, this sweet intoxication of tongue touching to tongue, was what he wanted to drown in. His arm curved around Simon’s waist. Alain had been hard since kissing his hand, but feeling Simon’s thick erection nudging against his hip made him ache. He hadn’t been lying about his dreams. Images of being splayed across the dining room table with Simon between his legs filled his head again. He didn’t bottom often, mostly because he seemed to attract youthful men eager to serve, but the thought of being at the mercy of Simon’s pounding cock left Alain shivering. They broke apart gradually, their mouths fused together for shorter periods of time, until Alain gasped for breath, his forehead touching Simon’s. “I thought about you in Marc’s place, too,” Simon admitted softly. “But not on the table. We should go inside.” Alain didn’t have to be told twice. Keeping their hands entwined, he led Simon out of the sunshine, blinking once to adjust to the dimmer light inside. His pace didn’t falter as they navigated through the kitchen, but when they reached the junction in the hallway, Alain hesitated. “Whose room?” Simon pulled him toward his closed door. “Ours.” Alain was glad he walked behind Simon those last few feet. It hid his buoyant smile. Nothing had ever sounded so good. Ours. 82

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He pressed behind Simon the moment they crossed the threshold, wrapping his arms around his hard waist in order to nuzzle against his neck. There was so much he wanted to say, so many sentiments he wanted Simon to hear, but the emotion overwhelmed him, making him unable to do more than lick and kiss along the sinewy neck. Simon dropped his head forward and covered Alain’s hands with his own, squeezing his fingers gently. He took a small step toward the bed, and Alain shuffled behind him, his mouth never leaving Simon’s salty skin. A few steps brought them to the side of the bed, and that’s when Simon spun around in Alain’s arms. Alain expected another kiss, but Simon bypassed his mouth and kissed his cheek, then his temple, and then moved down to his jaw. Each brush of contact was almost fleeting, yet seemed to burn Alain’s skin. He massaged the firm muscles in Simon’s back. Each one danced beneath his fingertips, as much evidence of the shared desire as the arousal still pressing into his hip. It wasn’t enough to feel Simon’s lips. He needed to taste as well. Alain tilted his head only enough to allow Simon the room he needed to explore, and set out to savor even more of the man’s hard lines. He nibbled at the hollow of Simon’s throat, licked over his Adam’s apple. He inhaled each scent, shivered with each breath. Only when he needed more did he grip Simon’s hips and start the long slide to his knees. “I think you’ll find my oral fixation extends far beyond food,” he said as he nipped at Simon’s chest through his shirt. 83

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“I think you’ll make a similar discovery,” Simon replied as Alain’s mouth moved to his stomach. Once he was kneeling, Simon tugged his shirt overhead, revealing the muscled chest Alain had so enjoyed staring at the night before. “I can’t wait to find out what makes you tick.” Alain gripped his hips. Simon wore loose-fitting khakis, but they still couldn’t hide the thick line of his erection. Leaning in, Alain mouthed it through the fabric, sinking his teeth in slightly as he went from the tip all the way to the base. “I’m a simple man.” His mouth returned to Simon’s stomach, and he traced the navel before licking upward again. “All I need is quality.” Simon ran his fingers through Alain’s hair before caressing his neck, his jaw, and his cheek. When Alain scraped his teeth across Simon’s stomach, he gasped and his fingers curled into Alain’s face. “The last thing I would ever call you is simple.” “As long as that means you’re intrigued enough not to leave before you’ve figured me out.” Alain glanced up as his fingers came to the fly. Simon’s eyes shone, unwavering, his breath quickening as Alain popped the button and slid the zipper down. The wet tip poked out the top of Simon’s briefs. Without looking away, Alain leaned in and dragged his tongue over the glistening slit. Simon’s breath hissed as he sucked air between his teeth. He pushed his briefs out of the way and pulled the foreskin back with two fingers, gently holding the base of his head while Alain continued to explore with the tip of his tongue. “Last night…I think your mouth is what I’ll remember the 84

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most.” Alain smiled. “It’s one of my best features.” He licked around the velvety crown, his tongue flicking over Simon’s fingers. Reaching between Simon’s legs, he cupped and caressed the other man’s soft sac. “Especially since it lets me savor someone as delicious as you.” Alain ran the very tip of his tongue down the underside of Simon’s shaft, tasting his entire length before refocusing on the head. He was determined to know each inch of Simon. How every bit of him felt. How every bit of him tasted. “I think you’re determined to make me regret that we haven’t done this sooner.” “Ah, my secret’s out.” Alain rolled the balls between his fingers, letting his thumb slide to the soft skin behind them. His mouth closed around the head, sucking hard until his lips met the loose grip Simon still maintained. The weight of Simon’s hand on the back of his skull made Alain moan. He’d do whatever Simon asked, whatever he ordered. He’d beg at this point, if he had to. Part of him actually craved that very opportunity. Simon slid his fingers down his shaft, until he was holding the bottom of his cock. He pushed on the back of Alain’s head with the other hand, gently, but firmly, guiding him farther down his length. He didn’t stop pushing until Alain’s nose brushed against the light hair at the base. Alain didn’t release Simon’s balls, but his grip tightened as more of Simon’s cock slid against his tongue. Simon moaned, swaying forward slightly. Alain tasted a hint of pre-come at the back of his 85

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mouth. So many of his fantasies had started just this way, but now that Alain was on his knees, Simon’s hot skin pulsing beneath his fingertips, Simon’s hotter hands gripping his head, Alain realized nothing his imagination had conjured had come close to the reality. It had forgotten the small gasps that were really more moans than breaths that Simon made when he slid back up the length. It had left out the weight of the thick shaft against his tongue, how easy it made it for Alain to mold over and around the taut skin in search of the throbbing vein that ran along the underside. Hell, it had left out that delectable vein altogether. He sank down the length a second time, just a little bit faster. He pushed against the circle of strong fingers at the base, hungry for every inch, but when Simon didn’t move out of his way, Alain retaliated by letting the edge of his teeth scrape over the sensitive flesh as he sucked back to the tip again. The third time he swallowed the shaft, Simon moved his fingers out of the way, allowing Alain to finally take the entire length. He relaxed his muscles and let Simon fill his throat. Simon moaned, his fingers tightening on the back of his skull, and he held Alain in place for several seconds. Alain swallowed around the head, using the muscles in his throat to massage the sensitive flesh. Each time Simon moaned, the sound went directly to Alain’s groin. He took him all the way again, and again, each time holding him as deep as he could go for seconds longer than the 86

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last. The scent of the coarse hair at the base of Simon’s cock drove Alain crazy. He honestly believed that the first time he got Simon stretched out on a bed, he was going to spend hours feasting on each inch of his body. He’d bite along the twitching muscles of his abdomen. He’d lick over the powerful chest. And when he was all done, he’d sink his tongue into Simon’s ass until the other man begged to be fucked. Then he’d make him wait just a little bit longer. Because the best results only came from infinite patience. “Alain…” Simon’s voice was rough and low, and Alain didn’t know if Simon was trying to get his attention, or just adding a new dimension to his moans. “God, Alain…” His mouth reached the crown, but before Alain could move again, Simon took his shoulder and forced him back. Alain looked up with curious eyes, and Simon answered his unspoken question by dragging him back to his feet. “I want my turn, too.” He didn’t have time to take a breath before Simon crushed their mouths together. The earlier restraint was gone. In its place was raw hunger, pointed and hot. Simon thrust his tongue past Alain’s swollen lips, demanding a response, only to make a sound in the back of his throat that was almost a growl when Alain immediately gave him what he wanted. Alain’s cock throbbed. He was more than happy to give Simon a turn. But his mouth was too sweet and too intoxicating to abandon just yet. Simon hooked his fingers around Alain’s shorts and pulled them down his hips, freeing Alain’s stiff cock. He caught his 87

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breath, not exhaling until Simon finally fisted his shaft. His hands were rough from the days he spent in the garden, and warm, and felt perfect against the smoother skin of his cock. Alain’s knees felt a little weak, and he almost hit the floor again, but Simon’s arm kept him upright and supported. His mouth moved away from Alain’s, and he bit and sucked at his chest and shoulders through Alain’s thin T-shirt. With a frustrated grunt, Simon lifted his head and tugged at the shirt. It soon joined Alain’s shorts on the floor, and Simon’s eyes were bright with appreciation as his gaze moved up and down Alain’s body. He was not a vain man. He knew he wasn’t the best looking to walk into a room, or the one with the best body, though he worked hard to keep his love of food from settling on his frame. But when Simon looked at him with such naked lust, Alain felt desirable, like he could stand amidst a group of a hundred men, and Simon’s eyes would still track back to him. That Simon would still look at him with such admiration, such desire. His fingers trembled when he reached out to skim his palm over Simon’s shoulder. “Come,” he said softly, gripping his arm. He guided him down until they both sat on the edge of the bed, then pulled until Simon lay on top of him. Fire burned in the pit of his stomach as he cupped the back of Simon’s neck to bring their mouths together. “I’ll finish what I started one of these days, you know. You’re not going to deny me, chéri.” “I wouldn’t dream of denying you.” He felt Simon’s smile 88

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against his lips. “Again. But I didn’t want to spend myself on your mouth. Not this time.” “Do you have condoms?” Better to ask now than to be so far along, it would hurt to have to stop. “Or do I go to my room and get some?” “No, no need to go anywhere.” Simon rolled to his side, blindly reaching for the nightstand. He tugged the top drawer open and seconds later, a row of condoms and a bottle of lube appeared between them. “I may not get a lot of company up here, but I stay optimistic.” Alain chuckled. “And now poor Marc won’t benefit from the fruits of your thoroughness.” He caressed a flat nipple, watching it visibly tighten. “Because I plan on being there if we ever invite him back.” “Nobody but you gets to benefit from the fruits of my thoroughness,” Simon promised, pushing himself to his knees. Hs positioned himself between Alain’s legs and ran his palms down Alain’s chest, momentarily curling his fingers in his thick mat of hair. He brought his hands lower, his thumbs brushing over Alain’s navel, before his fingers met at Alain’s cock. “Which means you’re going to have to visit me often.” Alain stroked Simon’s thighs, unable to keep his hands to himself. “Long weekends, you said. Holidays.” Everything was probably written in his eyes, but he didn’t care. “But I’ll come whenever you wish. You don’t even have to ask.” Simon smiled with his eyes. “If I don’t ask, how will you know when I wish to see you?” He snorted. “You expect me to make sense when you’re 89

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touching me like that?” He groaned when Simon trailed a broad thumb down the length of his shaft. “Just tell me what to do. I’m yours.” “When was the last time you were fucked?” “Not for years. Three, I think. When that American from New York insisted on meeting me.” “I better take proper care of you then.” Simon gently nudged Alain’s legs farther apart and slipped his fingers behind Alain’s sac. He curled his fingertips, stroking the sensitive skin he found there until Alain was ready to squirm away and beg for more at the same time. Before he had the chance to make up his mind, Simon sought out Alain’s ass, his nails scraping across the tight ring of muscle. Alain grabbed the back of his thighs and pulled his knees up to his chest, exposing himself further to Simon’s attention. He was rewarded with a soft smile and a hard scratch, hard enough for his muscles to clamp down in anticipation of what was to come. “When you thought of me in Marc’s place…” Alain gasped when Simon pressed a single fingertip into his channel. He was going to be even tighter than either of them expected. “Was it slow and gentle, or did you pound into me like you did him?” Simon worked his finger deeper into Alain’s passage. “Oh, both. I imagined that I’d start out slow and gentle…” As he spoke, he began pumping his wrist, demonstrating exactly what he meant by slow and gentle. “But then, I figured you would make me want to pound into you.” 90

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His brow cocked. “Make you? You think I have that kind of control over you?” “I think you have your ways of getting what you want.” “My powers of persuasion—” He choked when one finger became two. It burned and ached, more than he expected, but Simon maintained the same careful pressure, never pushing harder than Alain could handle. He twisted his wrist when he stroked in, stretching the passage, and Alain exhaled when he pulled out, wondering how much of this he could actually take before he started babbling like a teenager on his first date. “You’re the one who drives a man to distraction,” Alain panted. “I only do what I have to, what you make me need.” “Have you already forgotten that I had a front row seat to your machinations?” Simon smiled and pulled his fingers from Alain’s body. The air left his lungs in a rush, and for a moment, he relaxed against the bed. Until he saw Simon cover his fingers with lube, and his muscles began to tighten in anticipation. “Very well done. No wonder you manage one of the finest kitchens in Paris.” Alain would have responded to that, but the sudden chill of the lube took his breath away. Simon started with two fingers this time, keeping Alain nicely stretched as he spread the lubricant deep into his channel. For the moment, Simon seemed to be done with talking, too. Alain watched Simon’s cock twitch each time he pumped his wrist. To fight the urge to clamp down around Simon’s fingers, Alain let go of his legs and grabbed the condoms. He kept his 91

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knees up as he tore one free, but as the sound of foil ripping filled the room, Simon grasped his ankle and pulled them down, inching further up in order to take the condom away from him. Alain held it back. “You’re not denying me the right to put this on you.” As if to prove his point, he sat up, trapping Simon between his legs. He was too close not to kiss him, and both men moaned when their mouths met again. Alain rolled the latex down the thick shaft. He wouldn’t be surprised if he came within seconds after getting filled. Simon pushed him back to the mattress without taking his mouth from Alain’s. Their tongues danced around each other, and all the time, Alain was aware of the fact that the tip of Simon’s cock pressed against his ass, waiting to slide inside him. Alain gripped Simon’s arms, clinging to him as desire made his body tighter. Simon began to move his hips forward, slowly pushing the head past the slick muscle. Once the tip stretched his opening, Simon paused and lifted his head to study Alain’s face. He wasn’t sure what Simon was looking for, but he must have seen it because he thrust forward, sliding the rest of his length into Alain’s passage. Alain cried out, arching away from the bed. None of Simon’s attention had prepared him for this, for being filled so completely, for searing at such temperatures. He clutched at his arms, his nails digging into the hard muscles. It was more exquisite than anything he’d imagined, and he pulled blindly, needing to feel Simon’s weight smothering the rest of him as well. 92

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Their mouths clashed. Neither instigated any other movement, but their teeth and tongues were desperate, ravenous for the other. Alain slid his grip around to Simon’s ass, but it was the wrap of his legs around the man’s flanks that made Simon groan into their kisses. “See, chéri? Digging my heels in here is much better, yes?” “Yes, yes, much better.” Simon peppered his face with small kisses. He had switched to English, and Alain wondered if he always lost his French when he was fucking. “Gonna move now.” Simon caught his breath and eased back, each inch as exquisite as when Simon filled him. But now, he felt empty. Waiting. He pulled Simon back, groaning as he thrust forward again. The rhythm they set was erratic at first. Alain wanted him in as badly as Simon wanted to take his time pulling out. Soon enough, though, the thrusts evened out, slow, deliberate drives into his body that made both of them gasp. Alain particularly loved how Simon’s balls slapped against his skin. The slight sting heightened each sensation, leaving him trembling and breathless as Simon continued to rain kisses. “Do you…still want me to pound into you?” “Oh, God…please.” He tightened his hold. His heart thundered in anticipation. “Do it. Please…” With a final hard kiss, Simon straightened and gripped Alain’s knees. The first thrust from the new angle was as slow as before, but by the third and fourth times Simon moved his hips, the rhythm began to pick up speed. Alain arched his back 93

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off the bed, rising to meet each hard slam. Alain’s eyes rolled back with the quickening tempo, but he wanted to see Simon. Wanted to see the pleasure on his features. His forehead gleamed with sweat in the morning sunshine streaming through the open windows. A matching glitter was in his eyes, hungered and bright. Alain had always considered Simon one of the most handsome men he’d ever known, but now, in this moment, in this light, with the tendons in his neck tense from holding himself back, with his arms flexing from how tightly he held onto Alain’s knees, he was glorious. “Harder,” he begged, heedless of the entreaty in his voice. “Come on, give it to me.” Simon wrapped his fingers around Alain’s shaft, stroking it in time with his pistoning hips. The more Alain asked for, the more Simon gave, moving faster and harder. It wasn’t long until Alain lost the power of speech. And then he lost the ability to breathe. Everything in the room narrowed to Simon, and his cock, and strong fingers. Simon shifted his angle just enough to hit Alain’s prostate. Everything burst. Light, shape, color. Alain slammed his head back into the pillow as his skin crisped from the heat rushing through him. Simon’s name split the air. Simon never ceased pulling on his cock, and as each rope of come coated his fingers, his grip grew slipperier, wetter, slicking each inch of sensitized skin until Alain felt like he would come again, just from that. Distantly, he heard Simon shout, but there wasn’t anything vague about the final drives into his body. Simon tore into his 94

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clenching hole, holding him so tightly Alain was sure there would be bruises. He didn’t stop him. He couldn’t. The world still tumbled around and inside until he had no choice but to scramble to pull Simon down. Their mouths slammed together, their tongues winding around each other. Simon’s hips kept moving until his cock stopped twitching, and the kiss gradually slowed. Finally, Simon was completely still above him, except for his ragged breathing. Their foreheads touched and Simon smiled. “Was it like you expected?” So many answers clamored to be given voice. In the end, one word encompassed them all. “Better.”

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CHAPTER 7 Simon had always appreciated good food, and had spent most of his adult life seeking the finest culinary experiences in the world. He thought nothing of traveling dozens, even hundreds, of miles out of his way because he had heard of a chef who could work magic with ingredients as exotic as Kobe beef or as common as pork chops. But as Simon sipped black coffee on his garden bench, he knew he had never had a meal as noteworthy as the one Alain had just prepared for him. He had taken basic ingredients Simon kept in stock, and the few items Simon had purchased that morning, and presented a meal literally worthy of a king. And that had been after he spent most of his afternoon and 96

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evening attached, in some way, to Simon. They had both rested after that morning, shaping themselves around the other, becoming acquainted with the weight and texture of each other’s bodies. Simon might have dozed in that time, but he could only remember holding Alain and marveling over the fact that he was holding Alain at all. Afterward, they had showered, and Alain had demonstrated that he was just as talented in the shower as he was in bed. When they were dressed once again, they briefly discussed going to the village for the rest of the celebration, but both men preferred to remain where it was quiet. And private. When Alain announced he would cook dinner, Simon had expected something simple. And maybe Alain had served him something simple. But Simon had felt strangely sentimental over the meal, as though it was marking something between them that hadn’t been acknowledged with their lovemaking. Simon hadn’t tried to put the feelings into words, but he thought they were palpable, and maybe Alain was experiencing the same thing. Simon sipped from his coffee and listened to Alain in the kitchen. Their kitchen? Now, Simon supposed, it was. They were going to share the lives they had built separately, though Alain had been such a large part of the life Simon had always thought he was living alone. He suspected this change wasn’t going to be as earth-shattering as he had first feared. A cupboard opened and closed. A moment later, Alain appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands on a tea towel. “Do you want dessert? Or some wine, maybe.” 97

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“Wine, please. There should still be a bottle in the fridge.” Alain disappeared again, leaving Simon to stare out at the purples and oranges streaking across the horizon. The sun was almost all the way down. The village would start the fireworks as soon as it was dark enough, but this was the first time he’d given the celebrations much thought since they’d decided to stay in. Alain had consumed nearly every moment. His eyes went to the doorway again when Alain returned. He carried two glasses of white wine and handed one to Simon as he sat down next to him on the bench. “I can’t even remember the last time I watched fireworks on the Fourteenth,” he commented, stretching his arm across the back of the bench. “This might be the first time since Rêver opened that I haven’t been there.” Simon nearly passed over Alain’s comment without acknowledgment before the significance struck him. He should have known Alain was dead serious about his announcement purely by virtue of the date he chose. “Are you worried about the restaurant? I wouldn’t hold it against you if you took the time to call Claude.” Alain didn’t move. “Claude needs to know I trust him. Which I do.” He leaned sideways to brush a kiss across Simon’s temple. “I don’t have any intention of moving from this spot until it’s time for us to go to bed.” That was fine with Simon. Perfect, in fact, because there wasn’t anywhere else in the world he wanted to be at that moment. It wasn’t difficult to share the bench with Alain, to listen to the sounds of the distant celebration, or to drink the 98

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sweet wine. “You won’t be disappointed by the fireworks. And thank you for dinner. I think it was one of the best meals I’ve ever had.” Alain’s long fingers made random patterns along Simon’s shoulder, mindless and relaxing. “I have to confess, it’s nice to have someone to cook for. Someone who isn’t interested in judging whether or not they’re getting their money’s worth.” Maybe that was the difference Simon hadn’t been able to identify before. “You haven’t cooked just for the love of cooking in awhile, have you?” “I haven’t had time. Or someone that mattered enough for me to make the time.” “I’m glad I’m that somebody. But you should know that whenever somebody eats your food, regardless of the price, they’re getting their money’s worth.” A smile played on Alain’s mouth. “You are very good for my ego. If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep you around for awhile.” “I don’t mind at all. And I’m sorry about my earlier stubbornness about the issue.” The arm around his shoulders tightened slightly, Alain’s warm body pressing more closely. “I took you by surprise. The important thing is, we’re here now.” Surprise was an understatement, but Alain was right about what was important. He had been up all night, but ultimately, the decision had been a remarkably easy one. No matter how he looked at it, a life without Alain simply did not hold any 99

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appeal. More than that, a life without Alain would lack the spark and vibrancy Simon had become accustomed to. Simon would just have to be diligent about breaking some of his own bad habits. He rested his head on Alain’s shoulder just as he heard the first loud boom of the fireworks. He glanced up to see a shower of red and blue sparks, gently falling back toward the earth. “When are you going back to Paris?” “Monday morning. Claude will have a heart attack if I stay away longer.” “Make it Monday afternoon.” “For you? Of course.” An explosion of green and white blossomed against the night sky. “You could come with me, you know?” Simon nodded, knowing Alain would feel the gesture even if he was watching the fireworks. “I haven’t gone to the city in months. I think it’s a good time for a visit.” “It’ll help convince Claude that I’m ready to let him have more responsibility with Rêver.” Alain cupped the side of Simon’s face to tilt his head toward him. His mouth descended in a soft kiss. “He’ll see how distracted I get with you, and beg me to leave before I burn the place down.” “Well, I’m convinced,” Simon said lightly, before responding with a kiss of his own. His lips were sweet with wine, and already delightfully familiar. Simon liked Alain’s mouth more each time they kissed, and he thought he could spend a great deal more time exploring it. When he pulled 100

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back, red and blue light flashed on Alain’s face, casting shadows over his eyes. “If you’re kissing me, you’re not paying attention to your first fireworks display in years.” Alain chuckled, his fingers tightening. “That’s not really any contest, chéri.” His mouth returned, firmer, more demanding. The curl of his arm around Simon’s shoulders practically pulled him onto his lap, but Simon didn’t protest, hunger he recognized all too well stirring at the thickening prod of Alain’s cock. Alain kissed him long and hard, his tongue taking what Simon so willingly offered, but it was the thundering of Alain’s heartbeat that betrayed just how much he needed Simon. Behind him, the fireworks increased in intensity, a rapid series of cracks and pops disrupting the usual peace of the countryside. Simon barely noticed the display, more caught up in the way Alain felt and tasted beneath him. He’d go to Paris with Alain, and if his old friend and new lover kept kissing him like that, he’d go anywhere else Alain wanted him. Because of Alain, everything old was somehow new again and the world looked like a different place.

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JAMIE CRAIG Jamie Craig is the collaborative efforts of Pepper Espinoza and Vivien Dean. Both successful authors on their own, they began working together in early 2006. Pepper lives with her husband and cats in Utah, where she attends graduate school, and Vivien resides in northern California with her husband and two children.

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