Chapter 9

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A few hours later, or at least judging by the time on the large grandfather clock in the bedroom, Drake woke in an empty bed.

Stan and Ross’s empty bed.

He ran his hand over his eyes, rubbing sleep from them. He could hear the sound of the shower in the master bath, so he imagined that’s where Ross had gone.

What the fuck was he doing anyway?

He was fucking a guy who’d just barely broken up with his boyfriend. And really, they probably hadn’t broken up, it was just a fight. Once again he was Ross’s rebound fuck and he felt like a piece of shit.

Because that’s what you are.

Every time Ross snapped his fingers, Drake ran to his side like a puppy. What was it about Ross that he just couldn’t seem to let go?

When he’d first met Ross, the man had been sweet and cute, and easily wormed his way into Drake’s heart. Everyone’s really. The stunningly gorgeous, vivacious, clever young man had been very popular. And Drake had fallen hard.

It had been Ross’s decision when they were college boyfriends, and Ross the first and only guy Drake had loved, to end their relationship. Over a stupid jealousy thing. Ross had always been a bit of a flirt and Drake hadn’t liked it. Ross decided they were better friends than lovers and, at the time, Drake had reluctantly agreed.

Over the years, Ross had changed. Or maybe Drake noticed his selfishness, his petulance more than he used to notice. What once had been charming had turned annoying. Except he still couldn’t seem to shake his feelings for Ross, and here he was once again.

He got out of bed and pulled on his jeans. It was nearing evening, and Drake figured he probably ought to head home. But first he wanted some answers out of Ross. It was easier to talk to the man when he wasn’t crawling up Drake’s body.

Turning the knob of the bathroom door, Drake walked inside, noting Ross stood under the shower spray in a large glass shower. It was one of those fancy, expensive ones with handmade peach-colored tiles, and clear etched glass. Probably could fit six people in there.

Ross turned and smiled. “You’re awake. Why don’t you come join me?”

Drake barely resisted rolling his eyes. The last thing he needed was another sex fest with Ross. And he didn’t kid himself that it would be anything else.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Talk? Can’t that wait until later?”

“Why should it?”

“‘Cause right now I’d rather you come in here and fuck me.”

His stupid cock liked the sound of that because it swelled in his jeans. Forcing his brain to override his cock, Drake sighed.

“What happened between you and Stan?”

Ross sniffed and turned his back, showing his perfectly tanned ass to Drake. Of course he’d done it on purpose. It wasn’t a natural tan. Ross went to a tanning place, but it was still sexy all over.

“Ross?”

Ross shrugged. “I got horny while he was on a business trip.”

“So, you got someone else to fuck you and Stan found out?”

“He came home early, the bastard. He caught us.”

Though Ross hadn’t turned around, Drake knew he was pouting. He could hear it in his voice.

Jesus.

“I’m surprised he didn’t throw you out,” Drake said.

Ross sniffed again. “He wouldn’t. He won’t, Drake. Not ever.”

Unfortunately, Drake figured that was probably true. Stan was more hung up on Ross than Drake was. And it really was pathetic.

“When’s he coming back, Ross?”

Ross turned off the water and opened the shower door. His wet dark hair was plastered to his head and water droplets dotted his face. He looked like a movie star or a Greek god.

“I’m thinking tonight,” Ross said as he rubbed a big fluffy white towel all over his body, making Drake harder still.

Drake forced himself to think through the haze of lust, knowing full well Ross was playing him on purpose. “And you don’t think he’s going to find out about us?”

Ross shrugged. “He’s the one who walked out. He knows I’m not a saint.”

“Jesus, Ross. How long have you been cheating on Stan, anyway?”

Striding past him, naked, Ross went to the other side of the bedroom to the closet. “It’s not like I’ve got a new lover every damn day, Drake. Just, you know, when Stan’s not available, sometimes I get lonely.”

“Didn’t he just walk out on you yesterday?”

“Yeah, so?”

Drake sighed. “He was barely gone ten minutes and you were calling me to come over and service you.”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I don’t know what else to call it.” Drake couldn’t help but feel a healthy dose of self-loathing. He picked up his shirt. “I’m going home.”

“Okay, but I’m coming with you.”

“What?”

Ross rolled his eyes as he pulled a tank top over his head. “I can’t be here when Stan comes back, Drake.”

And Drake realized he was getting really sick of Ross’s games. Especially since they always seemed to use and hurt people.