I am a journalist. It was a great story - a story so unbelievable that I still found it hard to believe even though I'd seen hard evidence with my very own eyes. Seeing tomorrow's news today wasn't exactly a common everyday affair. Sure it sounded like something utterly made up, some thing you'd see in the National Enquirer. Regular everyday man receives tomorrow's newspaper a day earlier. The stuff of imagination.. and it was all true. And I was giving it all up for the love of a blockhead. Sweet, charming, intelligent, handsome but a stubborn blockhead all the same.

The idiot. Flipping open the file on my table, I ran a finger down his picture on the front. My dark-haired hunk. Making a play for a straight man would be disastrous to the extreme and I certainly wouldn't recommend it but Gary Hobson had to be the exception for me. Try as I might, I found I couldn't resist a taste of those gently pouting lips to see if they really were as sweet as I imagined.

They were. Even better than rich, dark Godivas - and that's saying a lot especially for a reformed chocoholic like me. Of course, being the disgusting gay pervert that I was, a chaste kiss just wouldn't cut it for me so I too much more than that. How could I possibly resist? Dark-haired, handsome, sexy... Gary would have driven a saint to sin, slowly but relentlessly. To other people he certainly didn't exude sex appeal in spades but in my eyes, he was a damned sex god. Hey, what did other people know anyway? Perhaps it was a combination of his irresistibly sweet 'aw-shucks' look and that all-around-good-boy charm about him. Perhaps it was his incredible, melting brown eyes. Perhaps it was his tight, firm ass. All he did was lean over to wipe the table and I felt like wiping the table with him. Of course I didn't try all that hard to resist him either. All I wanted to do with him was tear off that conservative suit and have wild monkey love in all the variations he and I could dream up.

But that one night of incredible, blistering mindless sex - well, for me at least - had proven more than our poor hero could bear. For a practising homo like me, it had been wonderful, a definitely welcome break from my chaste self for the past six months. But for irresistibly straight Gary, it must have come as a mind-numbing shock that he had played with a penis other than his own.

It was barely 24 hours since I'd left his bedroom. The morning after the deed, poor Gary was a puppy-eyed, shocked, near-incoherent bundle of nerves. Seeing the stunned look on his face, I decided to give him at least some time to think before pouncing on him again. Although I enjoyed keeping him on teeterhooks, hanging around making him nervous certainly wasn't going to help in my objectives. And I was definitely going to pounce again. Sure, he hadn't leapt into my arms at first but when we really got going.. Yum! That man had some pretty slick moves for an innocent lil kid from Indiana. Pure vanilla at first but once the man got into it, there was something definitely interesting there.

So after he slipped into the bathroom - to hide probably - I made my quick exit, leaving a note for him. He needed time and space to think - and I needed time to recoup my losses and plan my next attack.

So for the fifth time in as many days, I was hanging around McGinty's nursing my drink again. Mentally checking through the number of times I'd been here, I decided that I was definitely going to ask for a frequent customer discount. After all, not only was I practically living in the bar, the owner and I had a fucking great time last night and I thought that it deserved some credit at the least. A quick smile tugged at my lips as I thought of what Gary's expression would be like if I told him that.

My smile grew wider as I saw the good man himself popping his head through the office door. As usual, he'd changed into his trusty bomber jacket and generic buttoned-down shirt - the better to save the world obviously - and he looked bitably sexy. His brown puppy-eyes swept the room cautiously and carefully. It left me in no doubt of what he was looking for when he saw me sitting at the bar. His face immediately drained of colour and it looked as if he might be in need of CPR. I certainly wasn't averse to giving him some mouth to mouth.

It was with some glee that I beckoned him over with a curl of my finger and a sly, suggestive wink. Even before I did it, I knew it was mean but I loved it. Almost instantaneously, his face balked and he had that deer-in-headlights look again. There was no doubt that he was just a second from running away.

So I made sure I got his attention - and everyone else's in the bar. "Hey, Gary!" My carefully raised voice had several heads turning. Everyone except Gary who tried hard to pretend that he hadn't heard what I was saying. Turning his face away, he prepared to make his escape as he started backtracking his way to the back door.

So I decided to try sterner tactics. "Oh, baby don't be mad at me. Last night was a real eye-opener but-"

Those words certainly got his attention. His dark eyes widened and he stared at me in shock. Did I really think that the man moved slow? It was barely seconds before he quickly rushed over to my side. "Damn it. Keep it down!"

"I can't, sweetheart." My voice was still louder than normal and several people in nearby cubicles turned to focus their attention on us. For a man like Gary, it must have been the equivalent of being thrown naked under a hot spotlight. The look on his face was evidence itself. "We were great together."

"Stop. It." he gritted out softly.

Leaning closer, I took the chance that he wouldn't hit me in public and whispered sotto voce. "No can do, sweetcheeks."

He gave me a push. "I am not ready to talk about it yet."

"Well, you'll have time to get ready cause you're having dinner with me. Tonight." Without a qualm, I'd thrown an ultimatum at him hoping beyond hope that he'd cave in and drop straight into my arms.

For a minute, he stared back at me unblinkingly. A moment passed as he assimilated the challenge thrown at him and he gave me his answer. "No."

"You know that's just impulse talking, Hobson," I replied coolly. Part of me feared that was what he really wanted but that was a really small part. The bigger part of me just plain wanted him. Damn the consequences for once. This was the man that I wanted in my life and I was going to fight for him if I had to.

But Gary turned out to be a harder nut to crack. As stubborn as ever, he had a petulant look on his face that I wanted to kiss away. Closing his eyes and looking away, he mumbled out, "I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. Let's forget it happened."

"I'm sorry." To his relief, our rapt audience had turned to other things and I started speaking softly again. "I can't."

"Try please." he begged, those puppy-dog eyes turned pleading.

Those eyes. God knows they'd haunted my dreams at night. How could I possibly put down in words what I felt for him? "You know I love you, Gary."

Earnest proposals obviously werent't the way to Hobson's heart. Obviously a shot of whiskey and a roll on the bed was the right way. Nothing like getting a man through his dick. Obviously seeing the thoughts in my head, he shot me a glare. "Stop it."

"I won't stop without a fight."

"Don't," he whined. "Please."

The man was obviously not going to be moved. It was obvious that I was getting nowhere and I figured drastic action was needed. It was time to bring in the big guns again. "Oh, baby, just because we did it 6 times last night isn't anything to be ashamed about."

He stared at me. So did the eyes of the other customers. I was pleased to note that even Marissa who had come in the front door was standing agape. While I was about to congratulate myself on my technique, I decided that the man needed more persuasion. As I was about to continue.

"Shut up. I'l go."

"Staring at your plate isn't going to make me go away, Gary." For the past half hour, he had spent the time staring down at the floor, at the windows, at the menu, anything rather than look at me and I smiled with amusement. Mr Hobson was out on his first gay date and he obviously didn't know what to make of it. Time and again, he'd look furtively around when the door swung open to admit a new customer and heave a sigh of relief when it wasn't anyone he knew. Part of me wanted to tell him that it didn't matter because no one would be able to guess that this was a date - two guys out for a quick bite certainly wouldn't arouse any comment - but the dark, perverted side of myself enjoyed his discomfiture. That was the part that had to add mischieviously, "You are out on a date with the man you just fucked with. Live with it."

"You.. you.." In reply, he just glared impotently at me. At that moment, I bet if I listened close enough I probably would hear his teeth grinding. The disgruntled expression on his face only added to his charm.

The very fact that I had chosen this particular restaurant had me grinning like a fool. It was one of the spots that I frequented for the food, the ambience and the fact that the owner of Fiorelli's was one of my best friends. Mama Fiorelli was the matriarch of a large thriving brood, made a mean lasagna that was out-of-this-world, had a low tolerance for stupidity and had an uncanny ability to read a person from one discerning look. Rarely did any of my dates ever make it this far. The lucky few who did enter the lair of Fiorelli had been summarily chewed up and spit out by Dragon Fiorelli - long forgotten also-rans.

This time however, the results were markedly different. One cool, discerning look at Gary Hobson and Mama Fiorelli had practically signed an adoption form. His strong frame had seemed deceptively small as he had been enveloped enthusiastically in Maria Fiorelli's ample bosom and his tanned cheeks kissed with passionate fervour which still had him blushing.

"Jake! Stop tormenting him!" Maria's voice broke through our silence as she came bustling from the kitchen, her arms laden with trays of food. Despite her impressive size, she moved easily and deftly through the crowd of tables, edging through the throng of white-clothed tables on the sidewalk. "You let the boy eat!"

With a grace that belied her size, Maria descended upon our table and piled plates of steaming pasta in front of Gary. The food was enough to support Caesar's army across the Alps. I looked on with a barely suppressed grin as Gary's handsome face took on a look of desperation. "Believe me, Maria, I am trying to."

Looking up from the sinful amount of food on his plate, Gary's face turned red again as Mrs. Fiorelli pinched his cheeks again. "Ah, you are a handsome boy. But you need more meat on those skinny bones. How else can you handle a man like Jake if you don't put on some weight."

"Handle Jake?" In a hurry to explain himself, his voice came out in a boyish squeak that had me chuckling. Turning to shoot a quick glance at me, his face turned redder and he stumbled over a reply. "I am .. I.. Jake and me.. We..."

Stealing a glance at the both of us, from the barely concealed grin on my face to the look of confusion on Gary's face, Maria smiled to herself. True love never did find a smooth path. "No need to explain, my boy," Mrs. Fiorelli laughed. "Just enjoy!"

Giving our hapless man another hearty pat on the back that almost had him toppling, Maria disappeared into her kitchens. Faced with the generous amount of pasta in front of him, Gary suddenly smiled. "I will never finish this."

It was a compliment of sorts since I had never seen Maria dole out her special sauce on those she deemed unworthy and it seemed as if Gary had gotten an extra helping. "You had better if you don't want to know what Maria does to the people who don't appreciate good food," I warned him as I took up my fork.

Bringing his attention back to Maria reminded him of her earlier comment and he shot me an accusing glare. "You told her we're together."

"I didn't tell her, Gary. She just assumed. You're a good-looking man, I am a voracious man-eater. She made an assumption," I replied calmly. "Look, it won't make what happened go away if you ignore it. We had sex last night - pretty great sex by my estimation and it seemed as if you enjoyed it too." It was an understatement. The night before was an Olympic-sized spectacle of homosexual sex that deserved an award all of its own. My vanilla boy, Gary Hobson had turned into a voracious, insatiable tiger once his clothes - along with his inhibitions - had been shed and I still had the clawmarks down my back to prove it. Of course, I made sure to leave marks of my own on the broad expanse of his back. Blood rushed down to my groin as I remembered trailing my tongue down the curve of his spine down to his delectable ass.

"I can't think about it," he mumbled stubbornly.

The man was pouting again and at that moment, I seriously considered jumping over the table and showing him exactly what had happened last night but I doubted that Maria would appreciate that sort of scene on her table. Mama Fiorelli might be tolerant of homosexuality but I doubt she'd enjoy a display of deviant sex in her trattoria. To compensate, I imagined sticking my tongue down Gary's throat. "Why not?"

"Because I don't .. I have never.."

"You can't say you didn't like it, Gary," I told him simply.

This time he couldn't quite look me in the eye. "No, I can't."

It was a landmark of sorts since I never expected the clean-cut country boy to admit as much. Pleased that I had finally received some sort of assent, I decided to go easy on him. "Why are you worried? You had sex with me. It's not the end of the world. Do you expect thunder and lightning to rain down upon you?"

The notion was so ridiculous that he looked back at me, a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes. "I know it's not. It's just..." Gary struggled with his reply, biting his lip nervously.

"Gary." I reached out my hand for his. Perhaps I had been a tad impatient in getting the man to open up to me. After all, it had only been three weeks since I'd known him - and barely a gay or two since we'd burned up the sheets and thrown open the doors to his closet. The poor guy must be in severe denial and all I could still think about was how wonderful he would look dressed only in a shy smile on my bed tonight. That smooth, surprisingly muscular body stripped naked, his light golden tan contrasting with the pure satiny white of my bedsheets. His dark hazel eyes turning opaque as he moaned out his surrender.

He looked down at my outstretched hand and back at me. "Jake, I'm not gay."

It was at the tip of my tongue to contradict him but something in his eyes made me change my mind. Taking pity on him, I stopped him. "Let's not put a label on it. Did you like what we did last night?"

"Uhh.. no?"

Bending my laser-beamed gaze on him, I said with a smile. "You don't lie all that well so don't bother, Gary."

"It's not a lie. I just..." Under my scrutiny, he fumbled and blushed again. "I was drunk. I really can't remember. Perhaps I did but I -"

"Gary."

It had been a long time since I'd perfected what my colleagues dubbed my impenetrable X-ray vision. Dictators, serial killers and slick lawyers had broken down before me. Shiny, spit-clean Midwestern boys didn't stand a chance. In seconds, Gary crumbled under my glare and blurted out his confession. "All right! Yes." Almost immediately, he covered his face with his hands. "Omigod!"

Patiently, I pried his hands away from his face. "So what's wrong with that? Are you secretly homophobic or something?" I shrugged carelessly.

"No!" he said quickly. "No, I'm not but.."

"But what?"

"It's difficult .. I can't explain."

"Try me."

That brought a frown to his eyes. "I knew you'd say that."

"Then you should have an explanation all ready, right farmboy?" I teased him, hoping to get a rise from him.

Despite his best intentions, his lips started to quirk up in a smile and there was a twinkle in his dark eyes. He lifted his fork to pointed wave it threateningly in my direction. "That's gonna earn you another punch."

Glad that he'd finally started talking instead of staring mindlessly at the menu, I grinned in return. "Try it and we'll end up wrestling on the floor.. and you know how that ends up."

Talk of the night before had his face turning red. "Damn it, Jake."

"We had sex. Accept that."

He chuckled. "I am not being easy, am I?"

Leaning back on my chair, I crossed my arms and stared coolly at him. "Well, I'd certainly prefer it if you were."

His ears turned red again. "Can it Jake."

The quick return made me smile again.

"I'm being an ass... but so are you." Letting out a sigh, he leaned forward and spoke. "You see, the reason I have been avoiding... well, hell, I haven't seen myself as gay. Since I was a kid, I've never.. I-I.."

"But you haven't exactly had a good relationship with anyone, have you?" I pointed out.

"Yes. And how do you know.. " Gary tilted his dark head, his smile faintly amused. "Don't tell me.. Marissa, right?"

The fact that Mr Wonderful here couldn't keep any relationship going on past three months certainly wasn't one of the best kept secrets around. With the secrets that he held close, he obviously found it difficult to confide in anyone - which obviously botched up most of his affairs. The fact that he couldn't maintain any of his past relationships pleased me since I was certainly different from the other ladies and dammit, I knew his secret and it was fine by me. No way in hell was I gonna let such a catch go just because of a damned inconvenient paper. "Yes. And I checked around."

"Checked up on me? What else did you find out?" His smile turned sly and he raised a dark eyebrow. "Found anything interesting?"

The sexy, sly grin he was shooting me had me returning his smile. "Are you flirting with me, Hobson?"

"And what if I am?" he replied cockily.

"Good."

Those sexy lips turned grim and he pulled back, shaking his dark head all the while. "Well, I am not. I really am not!"

His churlish vehemence had me smiling.

"Stop smiling, dammit!"

"I can't help it." He looked flustered, frustrated .. and so damned cute I wanted to stick my tongue down his throat. And if I wasn't positive that he'd punch my lights out - or at least try to, I probably would have done it. As it was, my cock was hard and wide awake in my pants and all I could think of was a dark-haired man with a perfect ass. "I still want to fuck you, Gary."

My plain words had his cheeks burning but I could see from the way his breath hitched and those puppy-dog eyes dilated that I had hit a particular nerve. Taking a moment to compose himself, he replied in a stage-whisper. "Can we just lay off this subject please? I was drunk, we had sex, I enjoyed it somewhat... But it's not happening again. Ever. End of discussion."

Disgruntled young hunks obviously got me hot. For a moment, I wondered what deviant quality was in my personality make-up that had me getting hungry at the sight of angry, hot men and consoled myself with the fact that even my cutest interns had never given me the urge to tear down their khakis and slurp up. It had to be Gary. I raised one dark brow. "You sound pretty sure of yourself."

Pointedly ignoring me, he looked back down on his plate. "I am eating right now."

The dinner last night certainly hadn't been the huge success I'd hoped for. I'd hoped to have had Gary Hobson naked and cock-hard on a silver platter by midnight but that hadn't come true unfortunately. But then I hadn't given up. Of course I hadn't. Jake Evans hadn't become a top notch columnist by giving up right from the beginning. Sure, making Gary love me wasn't the same as pounding down doors in search of new leads but determination had always been one of my strengths. Some - undoubtedly Gary would be of that number - would have called it bone-headedness. Anyway, I had a full box of newly bought Trojans sitting on my dresser just waiting.

After my last come-on had failed - and the man had purposefully avoided any drink that smacked vaguely of alcohol, he'd hastily excused himself just after the main meal. Escape would have been a better word. Citing the newspaper as an excuse he'd escaped down the street before I could reach over to tie him up. As my parting shot, I'd risked a quick grab at his amazingly cute tush and given a quick squeeze which had earned me a quick gasp and a muttered curse. It had also given me the opportunity of seeing Gary utter his first swear word in front of me. Getting a rise out of the man certainly perked up my mood considerably.

It was a new morning and I'd gotten up with fresh purpose and a perpetual hard-on after last night's heated sexual excapade with Gary Hobson. Unfortunately, it was only in my dreams that Gary had begged me to fuck him on his bar counter. His firm, muscular legs thrown over my shoulders, his dark, handsome face smirking at me, that sweet, tight male ass just waiting. Gentleman that I was, I'd obliged him. Thoughts of Gary had me shifting my arousal in my boxers.

While I pondered over the merits of Gary's incredible ass, I ambled absently over to the kitchen hoping to prepare a quick snack. The milk carton in the fridge led to thoughts of farm-fed boys which inevitably led to thoughts of my own farmboy. For a man who seemingly didn't work out at all, the man had an incredibly well-toned, almost enviable build. Must be all the running around saving lives in the streets of Boston since I'd never seen him step into a gym before. Flicking on the small radio in the kitchen, I rummaged in the refrigerator and unearthed a piece of pie and some cold ham. A familiar Shania Twain song started playing and I had to smile to myself as I bopped to the catchy tune. Yeah, I certainly am gonna getcha good, Mr Hobson.

This was after all only the beginning.

My prayers were answered when I heard a series of quick, hard raps on my door. Setting down my half-finished glass of milk, I walked towards the door to open it when I heard a familiar voice calling my name. Surprised that he had come all this way - and even more surprised that he knew where I lived - I unlatched the door.

"Hobson, now this is certainly a surprise. I-"

"My God." The look on his face was a study of emotions. He looked distraught, stressed up and all flushed like he'd just run ten blocks to my apartment. His dark hair stood on all ends, his jaw had a faint five-o-clock shadow, his cotton shirt was buttoned haphazardly and he still looked incredible. "Jake! You're.. okay. Thank God."

"Shouldn't I be?" I replied with some surprise. It was as if Gary had leapt out of bed to come running over. Although I could flatter myself that the man had gotten a serious yen for me this morning, I doubted that was the reason for his early, wholly unprecedented visit. There was no way my squeaky clean country boy had come running out to my apartment before 7 in the morning for a quick, satisfying fuck but I could certainly hope.

"You're okay, you're not hurt," he said again, as if confirming a suspicion. It took a moment or two as his dark hazel eyes scanned me up and down before his chiseled features changed dramatically. With a flourish, he tore his paper out from his back pocket and waved it in front of me. "What the hell were you thinking? Are you crazy?"

"Cool your horses." Slightly taken aback by his sudden explosion, I took a step back, putting my hands up in surrender. Coming into the foyer, the man didn't remain still but kept moving about in one place and it was almost dizzying. "Now, that's a novel way of greeting. Did they teach you this in the farm, boy?"

His features darkened. "Stop the jokes. This is no laughing matter." Again, he flapped the paper before my eyes. "How could you even think of doing this?"

It was an experience seeing Gary Hobson deal with stress. For some reason better known to himself, the man was overcome with emotion and he didn't seem to be handling it all that well. Literally choked up with what he was feeling, he was almost incoherent trying to explain himself, stumbling over his words as he huffed out his answer. Kissing him would be a satisfying, legitimate way of calming him down in a hurry but I doubt he would agree. "Doing what? Drinking milk?"

"Drowning in Lake Michigan!"

"What?"

"Dammit, you're not going to do that for me!" Gary yelled suddenly. Shoving me back, he kicked the door shut behind him and forced me forward, back against the front hall closet door. "Even if I have to lock you up at home."

"Do what? What the hell are you talking about?" Although I tried to move away, Gary cornered me against the door, blocking my way. For a lil fella, he was pretty strong. Part of me - the stupid part - wanted to throw him off to prove some inborn, primeval sense of male dominance but the other part of me just plain enjoyed the feel of his agile, athletic physique brushing intimately against mine. Still caught up in the heat of the moment, Gary seemed oblivious to the fact that he was plastered to me like wallpaper - and my erection was starting to stir. Heat radiated from his body, as did the soft scent that I associated with him, sunshine, sweat and all Gary Hobson. It was a feeling that I could definitely live with.

"You were going to kill yourself!" he said loud enough to wake the neighbours. Luckily enough, my walls were thick and sound-proofed to tune out the noise of the city.

Trying to pacify him, I spoke to him as reasonably as I could. As far as I could tell, suicide certainly hadn't been in my itinerary this morning and I wondered what had gotten into him. "What do you mean?"

"It's in the papers. You tried to kill yourself."

"Killed myself?" The very novelty of the idea, the sheer amazement that followed his words caused me to stare in amusement. It was such an improbable idea out of the blue that I couldn't help chuckling. "And did you read that I got abducted by aliens too?"

The laughter in my eyes made him even angrier as he gritted out in reply. "You drowned yourself in Lake Michigan."

"How sordid." Although he repeated what he'd said, I still found the idea amusing and smiled. "What? It's in the papers? Did I look absolutely fabulous at the wake?"

"Jake, this is not a joke." Annoyed at my playful reaction, he shoved his paper at me, scowling all the while. "Yeah, it is. Take a look at this! Journalist takes the plunge."

"Couldn't they have thought of a more interesting byline?" I complained. Taking the paper from him, I scanned through the page he'd turned to. It was tomorrow's paper again and I wondered whether the man ever read today's paper. Perhaps that was his problem, too obsessed with tomorrow to enjoy what was going on today. His hand gestured at a column that had me smiling instead. "Gary, I think you should get your facts straight first. Have you read the whole article?"

He grabbed the other section of the newspaper to see for himself. "What the-"

"Read it. Johnson is finally taking the plunge. My pal is getting married, that's it." As I read through the article, it seemd to me that it wouldn't be newsworthy at all if not for the fact that Johnson was marrying a socialite scion of one of America's richest families. Marrying money and fame always made news. "Why? You want to attend the wedding? I've got an invitation around here somewhere." I turned and waved towards the study where I kept my letters and stuff.

"That's not what I was talking about." His eyes widened as he finished the article. "That was not the story there!"

"Oh yeah?" I replied skeptically as I continued staring at the same words over and again.

"It's true. It was here.. I could.. you'll see here on page 2." Stunned, he flipped the page to the page to confirm what I'd just said. The article remained unchanged although I started wondering whether he was certifiably delusional. Had the man taken one drink too many last night? "What the... I could have sworn that... They said you'd jumped into the river!"

The dismay in his voice had me smiling. "And why would I do that? There's a pool in the building if I needed a swim. Olympic-sized, you could come over in a pair of skimpy Speedos and make me happy."

He gritted his teeth. "Stop kidding around."

"It really said that? Odd. Why would I kill myself?" I shrugged easily.

"Isn't it obvious? It's because... " His ears reddened as he realized what he was trying to say. "You. Me. Uhh..."

The confusing diatribe he'd given me earlier started to make more sense and I grinned. "I see. Love unrequited. Bitter rejection and all that. Ending my sorrows in the river. Baby, I wouldn't kill myself for you, that would really put a damper on my plans for us. Anyway, I don't give up that easily. I've got a nice lil suburban home planned out with white picket fences and a lil golden retriever."

"Shut up. You're sure about this?" His green eyes looked at mine searchingly. "No jokes. No funny comments."

"Trust me, I won't. Promise. Do I seem like a suicidal maniac?" The man still looked undecided so I decided to tease him a little. "I'm definitely not suicidal when it comes to you, Gary, but the jury is still out on the sex maniac issue."

"You sure?" he tried again.

Turning arond, my gaze searched the room. "Look, do you want me to swear on a stack of Bibles? I think I've got one somewhere..." A lapsed Catholic, I doubt I could find the Good Book anywhere in my living room but I could have sworn I saw it a week ago lying somewhere in the bedroom.

When I turned back to him, he was biting his full lower lip in doubt. I wished I could do the same. "Maybe."

"Believe me, Hobson. I wouldn't risk my life over such a thing but I am touched that you came rushing as soon as you possibly could. Never knew you cared."

"Should have let you drown," he muttered to himself.

"But since you're here." I waggled my eyebrows suggestively as I took a step closer to him.

"Stop that." Suddenly aware of the danger he'd inadvertently put himself in, he backed away suddenly wary. The look on his face had changed dramatically from the fiery, mentally unbalanced avenger to the nervous, adorable stud I knew so well. Surprisingly I liked them both just as well. "Well, Jake, you're alive. You're healthy. You're not going for an unhealthy swim. I am leaving."

As I saw him turn to leave, I couldn't help baiting him. "Coward."

His muscles tensed. "I've got work to do."

The man was leaving in a hurry but I wasn't worried especialy since I had my winning card in hand. "Gary, I've made some breakfast. You could stay rather than take your usual Chinese or some hot dogs by the corner."

"How the hell do you know about.." Darting a quick glance over his shoulder, he stammered in reply. "I don't! There are still.. I need to go."

I watched him go with a smile. Although I hated him leaving my place, I sure liked seeing that cute butt move. In his hurry, he had forgotten one important thing. A quick glance through the paper confirmed the fact that there weren't any pressing emergencies anywhere in the city and its environs. So, the butter-wouldn't-melt-in-his-mouth Boy Scout had lied. Thoughts of extreme punishment came to my head. Gary Hobson strapped up on the rack, that smooth, athletic physique stripped to his pristine white shorts as I punished him with my wet tongue. Such a bad boy.

The man was as predictable as the newspaper that obviously landed in front of him and I could have set my clock on his arrival. The knock on my door came five minutes later as expected.

Throwing aside manners and convention, he swung open the door in his haste. "Uhh.. "

Standing with my arms crossed and the paper in hand, I faced him. In the time he'd gone, I'd managed to pull on a pair of sweatpants over the boxers I wore earlier. "I'm still holding your papers."

"Can I have it back?"

"Do I get a kiss in return?" I taunted him with a wicked smile of my own.

His answer was immediate - and damned predictable. "No!"

"Too intimate?" I shrugged carelessly. "How about a quick mindless, nameless fuck then?"

He glared at me. Obstinate as always, he remained standing at the doorway, obviously afraid to enter the depraved lair of the sex-crazed, hunky-farmboy-devouring homo-demon. Although I had to admit that he had reason to worry. Looking at him standing there, his handsome face all flushed, his hazel eyes full of nerves, that tall, athletic physique in leather jacket and jeans, I wanted to peel his clothes off and jump his bones so bad.

It was just too damned interesting baiting him. "Then was that a no?"

"What!" Deciding to take a step, he moved towards me with a hand out. "Give me the paper."

For the first time since I'd met him, I retreated as he came forward to claim his newspaper. "I said no. No paper for you."

"C'mon. There's a... fire.. in... uhh.. the docks.." Stammering out his words, he couldn't keep his puppy-dog eyes on mine and his gaze wandered.

"You're a lousy liar, Gary. I flipped through the papers. There are no more emergencies. You can have the paper back if you stay for breakfast." It was a wild shot as Gar might just as well stalk out my door. But I knew his pervading sense of responsibility wouldn't let him do such a thing. After all, who knew what I'd do with the paper in my hand? Of course, I'd probably just burn it but then again, how would Gary know that? For all he knew, I could put it up on primetime news and have his face on the covers of all the magazines before he could even turn.

"I-I.." The poor man looked utterly undecided, torn between his nagging conscience and the instinctive regard for his safety.

Obviously fear for his modesty was overriding his conscience. Shoving the paper down the back of my pants, I let out a sigh. "Look, I am not going to attack you, Gary. I do have some modicum of self control." Although that certainly didn't rule out seduction and getting the man as tipsy as all get out.

"Said the spider to the fly," he muttered to himself.

The dry comment had me laughing.

"Come on, Gary. I don't bite." My eyes twinkled. "Not unless you ask me to."

"Breakfast only?" Gary said in confirmation. Distrust was written all over his face but he found himself in a bind.

"Breakfast." Granting him that promise was easy enough but I still kept my fingers crossed behind my back. Sure there were no thoughts of slurping him up for breakfast but what about lunch?

"What've you got?"

Left to me, I'd have had some peanut butter and jelly. But I tossed that plan out into the dump. After all, the way to a man's heart was through his stomach and nothing was too good for the man I loved. Since the day I'd met Hobson, it always amazed me that I could say it so easily and so quickly. My parents had fallen in love quite as easily but cynic that I was, I always assumed that love at first sight was never for me. I always thought I would never subscribe to that dreamy, rose-tinted notion but Gary Hobson had certainly knocked me flat on my heels, with my old ideals in the dust. One look at those sad puppy-dog eyes and I was literally building castles in the air.

Squatting down to look into my cupboards, I started taking out some flour for breakfast. Stealing a glance behind, I grinned at Gary. Even crumpled and messed up from bed, I still found him near irresistible but I wasn't going to tell him that. The man would certainly run like a scared little doe at any such suggestion. "By the way, you look terrible."

"Thanks." He answered seriously with a trace of the grump but I could see the beginnings of a laugh in his eyes. "You can thank me later for trying to save your life."

"Oh, you know I'd love to thank you in a thousand ways." There was a devious glint in my eye that left no doubt of what I had planned.

Gary had already made himself confortable on kitchen table but at that comment, he turned to me, that sexy lower lip twisted in a sneer. "Can the sex talk. Please."

"Go take a bath," I tossed back at him as I continued my search for the cinnamon. It had been a long time since I'd made my famous waffles and it was guaranteed to melt in the mouth. I just hoped it was enough to melt his defenses, and his pants right off. I had a pack of Trojans just waiting in my bedroom.

"You know I'm not falling for that."

Damn. The thought certainly hadn't been in my head but since he put it in there, erotic, explicit images started reeling through my mind but I managed to stem the flow long enough to answer him. Marshalling every iota of control I had, I turned to him with a cool, disinterested look. "Gary, do you seriously think I'm going to jump you in the shower? I do have some self-control but if you're that worried, you can lock the door."

He blushed. "It's not that... it's.."

Cleverly, I kept my smile hidden. "The towels' stacked up in the bathroom closet."

The waffle mixture was in a bowl ready to be toasted, I had orange juice freshly squeezed, and all I could think of was a pair of hot buns in the shower waiting to be tasted. It was official. I am Jake Evans and I'm a sexaholic. It would have worried me but since my addiction only extended to a certain sexy brown-eyed stud, I figured I was safe. Even as I stirred in some of the spices into the bowl, I could imagine slurping up the sweet little morsel sudsing in my shower. Running my hands eagerly down the smooth, well-muscled torso, slick with soap and water, tracing the hard swell of his tight pectorals and the ridges of his six-pack.

The imminent arousal in my pants stirred in reaction to my thoughts and I smiled to myself. Since when had I ever not given in to impulse? Dropping the towel I had in my hand along with my juice, I stalked towards my prey. It had been barely ten minutes but Gary was well into his shower by the sounds of it. Unlike me, he didn't go into instant divalike mode in the relative privacy of the bathroom, belting out the latest chart-topping hits but I knew of a surefire way to coax out some cries from him.

After all his time in the big, mean city, promises still meant something to the good old boy and it was with some small satisfaction that I found the bathroom door carelessly unlocked. A small tug of guilt in my conscience was shoved deep down as I cautiously nudged the door open. Hiding out with a handheld camera in wartorn Iraq had taught me the value of silence and I employed it now as I sneaked into the bathroom for a gratuitous peek.

My pulse speeded up into overdrive as I was treated to a view of his naked back as he was turned to the shower. It was as I imagined it - and better. Running around with his paper had done the work of hours of gymtime for Gary. Sleek and tightly muscled, he had the build of a swimmer or a gymnast. The breadth of his wide shoulders tapering down to a trim waist and then bursting out again into high, tight globes of muscle that could only be termed a bubble-butt. And then those strong, muscular legs that powered him through the streets of Chicago. As he lifted his arm, the muscles of his arms flexed and bunched together.

There was only one word for it. "Hot."

"Shit! What are you.." In an instant, Gary swivelled around, his dark eyes wide and dilated with shock. Realization came slowly into his eyes. Like a beautiful gazelle, he was being relentlessly stalked by a hunter and he knew the inevitability of the chase.

With a cool aplomb that I didn't possess, I lazily kicked the door behind me to close. "Cool your jets, lil hunk."

"I-I... get out!" Backing away, he retreated to the other side of the small shower stall, barely three feet away. Water cascaded freely down his superb physique and I wondered what I could do with the tight brown nipples crowning his pecs. Already hard and pleasantly erect with the cold, resembling small penises that I wanted to get my wet lips on.

"I don't think I'll be doing that, Gary." Hamming it up, I smacked my lips in appreciation even as he searched futilely for an escape. It was the only route left for him. With my superior height and weight, a purely physical brawl would only leave him at the losing end as he'd learned before. "Mmm.. mmm.. You look really good, Gar."

"Oh my God." His hands dropped to his crotch protectively but even those large hands couldn't quite conceal such a hefty piece of meat. I had some really definite plans for that cock. Dropping the soap unheeded to the floor, he lifted one hand to state his demands. "Give me the towel."

Throwing a glance over my shoulder, I noted his clothes neatly folded over the sink, far enough from him and the towel hanging off the rack. Slipping the towel off the rack, I held it firmly in my hand and dangled it before him. "Come and get it, stud."

Since demands didn't make me anymore compliant, he tried begging. "Jake, please."

"Shy suddenly? I've seen you naked before." And he looked even better than he did clothed.

The heat of his embarassment flooded his cheeks. "Look, it's not happening again."

"I disagree," I replied with a cool smile. Running my covetous gaze down his delectable naked form, I noticed Gary's dick having a predictable reaction of its own to the tense situation. "And it seems so do you."

"Dammit. This can't be happening," he muttered half to himself, his hands shifting desperately to cover his growing erection.

The sight of Gary's hardening dick only got my pulse jumping in anticipation as I recalled having that delicious piece in my mouth. Perfect length, perfect girth. The steel hardness, the pulsing heat within, the salty sweet pre-come. Licking my lips, I tossed the towel around my neck and started peeling of my own tee. "The forbidden is always exciting, isn't it - especially for a good boy like you?" Tossing the towel behind me, I stepped forward into the stall.

"Damn it, Jake." Still trying to keep a grip on the situation, he backed himself against the wall. "You said you weren't going to jump me in the shower."

My T-shirt was left on the floor. "I lied. Sorry."

"Get out!"

He tried to shove me away but I used his arms to pull myself nearer. It was one of the few times I thanked my ancestors for giving me linebacker genes with muscles to spare. As he tried to put up a wet struggle, I wrapped my arms tight around him, trapping his own wriggling hands behind him. Despite his incessant complaints, his heavy erection twitched against mine through my already wet pants. My soap and his musky scent had mingled together and I drew my head down into his neck to breathe it in, taking little bites as I did so. "You smell great. But then you always do."

"Get away from.." It sounded almost like a whine from him and I felt like a monster.

Keeping him still, I rubbed myself against his naked body, relishing the delicious feel of his warm, wet skin against mine, the muscular solidity of his muscles against my body. My hands crept down to rest on the fantastic mounds of firm, muscular asscheek and as I gave them a squeeze, he released a soft, strangled moan. "Shut up."

"Please leave."

"See why I love you? Still so polite." I laughed as I bit lightly into the soft shell of his ear and he shivered in response. "A man steps into the shower to ravish you, do unspeakable acts to you and you say please."

"The breakfast will get cold."

I grinned wolfishly. "Let's start with dessert." With that, I leaned in and claimed his half-open mouth, thrusting my tongue in to shut him up. It worked.