Table of Contents

~ Acclaim for Tara Lain ~

~ Look for these titles from Tara Lain ~

Copyright Warning

~ Dedication ~

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

~ About the Author ~

~ Also by Tara Lain ~

~ More Romance from Etopia Press ~

~ Acclaim for Tara Lain ~

“I’ve read a lot of series over the years. Some of them I’ve liked more than others, but I can honestly say that Ms. Lain’s Balls to the Wall series is one of my favorites! She has a knack of writing humanly flawed and fabulously sexy men who really live and breathe off of the written page.”

—Top2Bottom Reviews, 5 Stars

“Tara's men are always absolutely delightful and atypical, which makes them even more interesting.”

—Lena Grey, Rainbow Book Reviews, 5 Stars

~ Look for these titles from Tara Lain ~

Now Available

The Balls to the Wall Series

Volley Balls Book One

Fire Balls Book Two

Beach Balls Book Three

Snow Balls Book Four

“Trex or Treat” Halloween Heat IV

Hearts and Flour

Tara Lain

Copyright Warning

EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Published By

Etopia Press

1643 Warwick Ave., #124

Warwick, RI 02889

http://www.etopia-press.net

Hearts and Flour

Copyright © 2013 by Tara Lain

ISBN: 978-1-939194-60-2

Edited by Nancy Cassidy

Cover by Amanda Kelsey

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Etopia Press electronic publication: January 2013

~ Dedication ~

To the people of Laguna Beach who hold out for quirkiness, diversity, and love against all odds! Thank you for inspiring me every day.

Chapter One

Micah Truveen shoved some grated raw apple into his mouth and chewed. Sweet, with a little pucker. Umm, like a kiss. He stuck his hands in the mashed dates and nuts mixture, smooshed, scooped, and began pressing it into the pie pan he had sitting on the prep counter. Raw apple pie would follow raw zucchini lasagna with dehydrated onion tomato bread. What a perfect Valentine’s Day dinner. Dharmaram would be thrilled. Good nutrition made for hot sex, and Micah was ready for both. They’d been a little light in the sex department lately.

A musical voice came from behind him. “Hi, Micah. Can I have two ounces of wheat grass, please? Also a small green juice and a side of red quinoa.”

Micah glanced out the serving window at Annie. Attractive, fortyish, dark-haired, she came here every morning before she went to work at some big ad agency. “Be right with you.” He set aside the pie. He’d finish it later. The morning rush was officially underway at The Place when Annie arrived. Seven a.m. and she needed her healthy fix. He rang the cash register. “That’ll be eight-fifty.”

She handed over a ten, and he made change. She smiled and gave back all of it in the tip jar. “Are you going to do that Healthy for Life class soon?”

He flipped his flop of dark hair out of his eyes. “Yeah. I’ll post something on the bulletin board in the next couple days. Wish you could come to the Raw Valentines class today.”

She shook her head. “Me too, but I have a meeting. Will you post some recipes?”

“Sure. Tomorrow.” The Place was literally that. The Mecca for a lot of the Laguna Beach health food crowd—and that was a big group. The bulletin board announced everything from vegan cooking classes to the latest yoga retreats. Micah always moved Dharmaram’s poster to the front on the board so everyone would see his yoga classes first.

Micah popped a large spoon in the vegetable barley soup pot, did a quick stir, and turned down the heat, then went to the flat of wheat grass he had propped on one of the deep refrigerator shelves. With a knife he hacked off two handfuls. He’d sell most of the flat to his regulars before noon. A lot of people in Laguna were serious about feeding and detoxing their cells with all those vitamins and chlorophyll.

He started the wheat grass juicer. It whirred and squeaked as he fed it the bright green blades of grass. The place smelled like a mowed lawn in two seconds. Delicious. He scooped out the quinoa then turned on the big juicer. He handed Annie her wheat grass through the serving window. The Place only had about nine small outside tables and the same number inside, but it did a huge walk-up business.

Annie downed the intense green liquid in one swallow, made her usual face like she’d just chugged a shot of whiskey, and then smacked her lips. She sat on one of the benches, and he went to make her juice. Kale, spinach, broccoli, and a few carrots for taste. He called her a wuss for needing the carrots, but he admired her dedication to her diet. He was lucky to have such great customers. Some people called them Micah’s devotees.

He packaged up Annie’s quinoa and put a top on the juice. He knew she’d wait an hour after her wheat grass before drinking anything else. That was the protocol he taught to get maximum benefit.

He leaned out the serving window. “Here Annie—what the hell?”

She looked up at him with big brown eyes. Her cheeks bulged hamster-like and the huge godforsaken cupcake she held poised in front of her face sported a large missing piece. Frosting clung to her lips like cocaine on an addict’s nose. “Mmmpfff.”

“What are you doing? My God, you can’t follow wheat grass juice with white flour and refined sugar. What are you thinking?”

She swallowed twice and finally got her massive bite down her throat. “It’s a Charismatic Cupcake, Micah. It’s a new shop down on PCH and their cupcakes are like the best thing you ever tasted.”

He frowned. “I don’t care if it’s blessed by the Pope, you can’t eat it now.”

She grinned. “I bought two last night and I thought I could resist this morning but, ummm, I just couldn’t. Oh God, it’s a combination of coconut and lemon and everything I love.” She took another bite. Damn, he should turn away. The woman was about to have an orgasm on his patio bench. His frown deepened.

She swallowed and sighed. “I figure the wheat grass cancels out the sin.”

His eyebrows squeezed together even harder. “It doesn’t work that way and you know it.”

She flashed him a big smile. “Lighten up, Micah. I’m good most of the time. Maybe you should try getting a little bad now and then.” She licked her fingers, grabbed her food from the counter, and blew him a kiss. “See you tomorrow, darling.”

He stared after her as she walked down the steps to her car parked at the curb. Most of the time? She was good most of the time! Shit. He felt like someone just hit him in the head with a baseball bat. Good nutrition wasn’t about most of the time. Jesus. The body constantly produced new cells. Give them one excuse to alter that DNA negatively and you were on your way to disintegration. Annie knew that. He’d taught her in classes and conversations over kale and spinach juice. You are what you fucking eat. It was just that simple. Cupcakes weren’t food! God, kill me now.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. OK, smile. Deep happy breath. Dharmaram hated it when he ranted. “Hi, sweetie.”

“Hi, Micah. Uh, what time are you coming home?”

Hmm. He really wanted to go buy a great Valentine’s Day present for Dharmaram after work unless he could get off earlier. “I’ll probably be a little late. I’ve got the cooking class. I’ll let Jennifer close The Place, but I have some errands to run.” Man, he loved Valentine’s Day.

“Oh, OK. See you later then.”

“See you. Kiss, kiss.”

“Yeah.” Dharmaram disconnected.

What could he get his lover that would be special? What Dharmaram really wanted was a Rolex, but that was a bit rich for Micah’s wallet. He did OK with The Place, but he gave a lot of money away to charity. Saving whales and big trees and rhinos cost a bunch. He sighed. He loved buying presents for people. Yes, he knew it was his subconscious making up for all the things his mother never bought him, but he loved it. Still, spending that kind of dough on a watch was kind of irresponsible. Even if it was for the kind of love of his life. Of course, Dharmaram probably wouldn’t buy him anything. He’d plead poverty. It always seemed like his yoga studio did OK, but whatever. Maybe he’d just take Dharmaram shopping for new clothes. He always loved that. Micah glanced at the serving window. Three people stood in line.

“Hey, boss.” The voice came from behind him.

He glanced back at one of his six employees who kept The Place going. “Hi, Jen. Perfect timing. Want to take over here while I handle the inside tables? I need to set up for the class later.”

“You bet.” She pulled off her jacket, revealing skinny, tattooed arms in her tank top. It might have been February, but cooking in the kitchen and serving the walk-up customers made for hot work.

Micah walked through the door at the back of the kitchen that led into the small interior restaurant. Most of his customers chose the outdoor tables if the weather was nice. He didn’t have a view or anything—the ocean was two blocks away—but it was a really pleasant spot to eat with big umbrellas over the tables and heaters for when the air got cool. By comparison, the inside space was a little darker, but still cheery and comfortable. He held his cooking classes there too. Right now the dining room sported pink and red decorations that the girls had thought up on the tables. Three customers lingered over herb tea and smoothies.

Micah looked around. “Anybody need anything?”

Tim Croner shook his head and kept staring at his tablet computer. The man spent way too much time playing online, but he didn’t seem to care that the radiation could affect his DNA. Oh well.

Micah started putting out utensils on the counter at the back of the room where he did his demos.

Two hours later, he’d served about ten customers in the back of the restaurant, plus made up the ingredients for the raw Valentine’s dinner he planned to teach his students. He set out chairs around a long table where the raw foodies could experiment and taste.

“Hey, Micah.” Allie, one of his best customers, filed in for the class.

“Great to see you. Take any seat.”

Jill and Bill came in holding hands. Yes, their names were a joke and, at fifty-some years married, they’d heard it a lot. Micah smiled as they grabbed two of the seats with their backs to the window. The three pals everyone called “the girls” laughed their way through the door. Molly, Song, and Consuela formed their own United Nations and a great cross-section of California ethnicities. But they were all Valley girls at heart.

Song giggled, “So I said, like, what the hell, I mean, like, what did the guy want from me? It was like our first date, you know?”

Consuela flashed Micah a big white-toothed smile. “Hey baby.” She knew he was gay, but that didn’t stop her flirting. People always told him that his customers had crushes on him, which he thought was plain funny considering he was a skinny gay guy.

“Hey guys. Get comfortable and I’ll go get our stuff, OK?”

Song looked up. “Ooh, what are we making?”

He grinned. “Raw lasagna. It’s delicious. You’ll love it.”

“One of your mama’s recipes?” She nodded to the picture of his mother on the wall.

“Oh, no, not really.” He glanced at the photo of an attractive, dark-haired, youngish woman he kept there for inspiration. He just didn’t tell his customers that she was an inspiration for what not to do.

He bumped the swinging door to the kitchen with his hip and grabbed the bowls and pans he’d use to make the raw lasagna mixture. Holding a stack in place with his chin, he used his free hand to pick up the bowl of raw zucchini and back his way through the door. “OK everyone. Get ready for a…” he turned toward the group “…healthy and sexy Valentine’s—shit!”

Pans clattered and zucchini bounced on the polished concrete floors like so many green phalluses. “Molly, what in the hell are you doing?”

Molly’s wide eyes flashed unbridled innocence as she held the huge pink-frosted cupcake up to Song’s brazen red lips. “Me?” The squeak barely carried the two feet between them.

The clatter and mess had no effect on Song’s single-pointedness. She stuck out her tongue and swiped toxic, food-colored sugar and cream straight into her mouth. Her eyes closed and she seemed to drift into an orgasmic haze strangely reminiscent of Annie that morning. She sighed. “Oh…my…God.”

Micah set down the rest of the pans on the table. “You are not serious.”

Consuela put her hands on her hips righteously. “I told her, like, ‘Don’t do it. Don’t be eating cupcakes in front of Micah,’ but she wouldn’t listen.”

In front of him? “What does she eat when I’m not around?”

Consuela laughed. “Don’t even ask.”

Micah stared. That pink garbage disappearing into Song’s mouth looked obscene. Who the hell was leading his customers astray?

Deep breath. He gathered up the fallen vegetables, went into the kitchen to wash everything again, and started the class. The group leaned over the table as he showed them the preparation of the raw ingredients and how to use spices to create unique flavors and mix ingredients so even the most dedicated lovers of animal products wouldn’t miss the cheese or the meat. Still, after two defections from righteousness today, it was hard to summon passion.

“You OK, Micah?” Jill cocked her head at him as the others layered ground nut cheese and walnut meat over zucchini slices then alternated a spinach layer.

He nodded. “Yeah. Fine.”

She went back to layering.

The words slipped out. “Have you ever tried those cupcakes, Jill?”

She gave him an indulgent smile. “I’ve gone into the shop a couple times, but I haven’t succumbed yet. I probably will for Valentine’s Day though. They really are beautiful. If they taste as good as they look—”

Song sighed. “Oh, they taste even better.”

Jill laughed. “In that case, I’ll have to give in.”

Micah frowned. “Valentine’s Day is just another chance to show that you can make raw vegan food taste great.”

Consuela got her righteousness on. “That’s what I keep telling them.”

Molly shoved an elbow into Consuela’s ample midsection. “Oh, come on. You had all the frosting off that lemon cupcake when we were watching TV.”

“Did not.”

“Oh, then who ate it? The cat?”

Micah took a deep breath. They were just customers. They didn’t have to live like he did. “Where the hell did this cupcake store come from?”

Song looked up from her layering. “Quentin started it with his grandmother.”

“Quentin who?”

She shrugged. “Just Quentin. He owns the place.”

Consuela giggled. “He’s even prettier than his cupcakes.”

Song sighed again. “And when he bends over to get cupcakes from the case in those tight jeans, I mean…oh my.”

Micah tried to control his face but no luck. “So you buy cupcakes so you can see this guy’s ass?”

Molly put her messy hands on her hips. “Of course not. The cupcakes are extraordinary. Magical really.”

Song grinned. “Yes. And so is Quentin’s ass.”

Well hell!

Micah dragged himself through the rest of the class. The students went home with lasagna to serve at their Valentine’s dinner the next day. Yeah, with cupcakes for fucking dessert. It was stupid to feel so defeated and betrayed. He couldn’t expect others to live up to his standards. Dharmaram told him that all the time.

He took a deep breath. He was going shopping. Maybe he’d just bite the bullet and buy Dharmaram that watch or some other extravagant piece of jewelry.

He stuck his head in the kitchen. Jen was almost finished with her shift and Kathy had come on to take over. She was not only his best worker, but also his good friend. He smiled at her. “If you guys are OK without me, I’ve got some shopping to do.”

Kathy nodded. “I’m fine. Winter’s definitely here. No big rush. Can you pick up the juicer at the repair place while you’re out?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Good idea. See you tomorrow.” The afternoon sun made him squint as he walked out the back door. South Coast Plaza held many shopping treasures, and he was in the mood to buy them. His customers might have let him down, but he had the best boyfriend. Hell, you couldn’t put a price on love.

* * *

Micah stashed his bike in the shed behind the house. He couldn’t stop chuckling. Dharmaram would be so happy. Micah fingered the wrapped box in his pocket. The bracelet that rested inside was pure gold and engraved with abstract shapes the salesman had told Micah were dolphins. That sold him, of course. It cost a bundle, but he didn’t care. He loved it. The look on Dharmaram’s face when Micah gave it to him tomorrow would be worth twice the price. He knew it.

At least he was home early tonight so maybe they could watch a little TV and snuggle. Tomorrow, Micah would start prep on the meal in the early afternoon. He wanted to blow it out. Candles and flowers. Good china and silver. Well, he didn’t really have good stuff, but he’d bought a new deep pink tablecloth that would set off his plain white plates and make them special.

He fit his key in the lock and stepped into the kitchen. Funny, the lights were off. Dharmaram usually turned on every light in the house when he got home. Maybe he’d had an extra class to teach this afternoon and hadn’t thought to mention it.

“Merwaor.”

Micah paused and let Furtwangler step onto his shoulder from the top of the refrigerator. He scratched the cat’s chin. “Hi guy. How you feeling?” Like the glacier for which he was named, at seventeen Furtwangler was slowly disappearing. One of the only good things to come out of Micah’s time with his mother, Furtwangler was still a great cat.

Micah turned on the light and slipped his shoes onto the shoe rack. He pulled the package from his pocket. “Where shall I put this so that our nosy roommate won’t find it, guy? What do you think?”

“Merwaor.”

Micah glanced up at the high glass-front cabinets in the kitchen. Good thought. Dharmaram hated to cook, so if he was left alone he’d never open a cabinet. Just graze in the refrigerator on whatever Micah had left for him.

Holding on to Furtwangler with one hand, Micah stood on tiptoe and opened the top door. He slid the present behind the teapot that he used for herb infusions. He really wanted to give the bracelet to Dharmaram tonight, but he’d force himself to wait. It would be more special tomorrow.

He walked through the dark dining room into the living room. No lights. He turned on a low TV-viewing light. “Stay here, guy. We’ll watch some TV, OK?”

The cat slithered off his shoulder to the comfortable, cotton velour-covered couch and Micah headed down the hall to the bedroom.

“Umpf.”

Micah stopped.

“Ohhhhh.”

Shit, was that Dharmaram? Had he hurt himself doing his damned backward bending pose again? He took two more steps.

“Oh, oh, oh!”

What was wrong? Micah ran the last seven steps and threw open the bedroom door in time to see a large bare ass in the air and a very big dick shoving its way into the pink butt hole of the guy Micah had just spent five hundred dollars on. “Shiiiiiiit!”

“Un, un, un.”

Micah stared. Clearly the fuckers were too far gone to stop so he was privileged to watch his so-called lover moaning in orgasm while some guy as big as a tree grunted over him.

His whole body felt cold, frozen. Strange how the mind works. Sure he should be watching his own heartbreak, but all he could think of was that this tree trunk was the kind of guy Dharmaram really liked. He’d always said he loved Micah’s slim, hard body, but obviously the redwood here was enough of a man to get to top Dharmaram while Micah had always been forced to bottom. Micah had told himself he loved being the receiver but, the truth was, he liked to top and Dharmaram never let him. Shit, he never let him do a lot of things. Maybe thighs like an elephants were needed to hold down that perfect ass.

The mammoth rolled to the side and Dharmaram raised his head, looked at Micah, and then flopped back to the pillow. “Well shit. You said you’d be late.”

What the fuck? “Late? Late?” The ice melted and heat rose up Micah’s spine until he saw red—just like in the stories. “Obviously, I’m seriously late in realizing that you’re a fucking cheating asshole. You live in my house, eat my food, and let me buy you presents”—the bracelet flashed across his mind and he wanted to kill—“and all you can say is ‘I said I’d be late.’ You flaming son of a bitch!”

The elephant man sat up. “Maybe I better go, huh. Let you work this out with your boyfriend.”

Micah wanted to throw himself across the room at the guy, but even in this pissed condition he had some self-preservation. The guy outweighed him by a hundred pounds. “Yeah, you go.” Suddenly, everything got clear. “Yes, go and take him with you.” Micah pointed at Dharmaram’s still supine body. “He’s no boyfriend of mine. Get the hell out of here. I’ll send your stuff.”

The yoga teacher sat up. Always so graceful. “Oh, come on, Micah. So I cheated once. BFD. Sometimes I just want a poke in the ass and from somebody new. So what?”

“So what?” Had he really believed this man was the love of his life? Shit yes. Then why was he giving up on him so easily? Good question. “Get out of here.”

For the first time, Dharmaram looked worried. “C’mon. Where would I go?”

“I don’t care.” And amazingly it was at least half true. “Take your toothbrush and get the hell out of my house.”

Dharmaram’s wide, dark eyes got watery. “Come on, baby.”

Micah shook his head. OK, here came his heartbreak. Heat pushed behind his eyes. No way. He gritted his teeth. “Get out now.” He looked up at Dharmaram’s chiseled face. “Now. Out. Now. Or so help me, I’ll call the cops and tell them you’re trespassing.”

“They’d never believe you.” But at least Dharmaram scooted off the bed toward where tree man was buckling his belt on his jeans.

Micah took a step forward and grabbed the clothes lying on the floor at the foot of the bed. He threw the yoga pants and shirt at Dharmaram, who caught them with his face. Micah clenched his fists. “Get your clothes on your body and get out. You can pick up everything else from the porch tomorrow.”

Dharmaram pulled on his yoga pants commando over that hard-muscled, downward-dog of an ass. Micah didn’t want to look. How many hours and days had he mooned over Dharmaram’s perfection? Well, the guy wasn’t perfect any more.

Dharmaram pulled his T-shirt over his head. “You’ll see this differently tomorrow.”

“No, I won’t.” He stared at the handsome, dark-haired man who was now his ex. “I think I knew you’d been cheating, but I didn’t want to believe it. I believe it now.” Sad, but the truth.

Dharmaram threw up his hands. “Hell, Micah, if you weren’t such a perfectionist prick, you’d be a half decent boyfriend, but shit on a stick, you shove that green crap down my throat all the time and give perfectly good money to save furry things that nobody needs anyway. Get over it, man.”

Micah sighed. So there was the truth. Micah stuck out his hand. “Give me the house key.”

Dharmaram frowned so deep the creases should be permanent. No such luck. He fished in his pocket and pulled out the key on the pretty butterfly keychain Micah had given him. With a flick, he tossed them on the floor.

Micah glanced at the keys. “Just leave.”

And he did. Dharmaram, the guy of Micah’s dreams, walked out the bedroom door with redwood man. Micah heard him say, “Can I stay with you until I find a place?” And the tree answered, “Nah, I live with my mom. She doesn’t like me to bring guys home.”

Laugh or cry? Micah followed them to the living room. Dharmaram’s perfect ass retreated out the front door. Micah slammed it. So much for angry gestures. Shit. He pushed his back against the door and slid to the floor.

So there it was. The rat-crap ending to an otherwise rat-crap day. And more. The end of a dream. How long had he known or at least suspected that Dharmaram was cheating? Months? Hell, they’d only been together a year. When they’d met at that health food convention, Dharmaram had said all the right things. Change the world by changing consciousness. Find the union of body, mind, and spirit. Dharmaram could change people’s minds while Micah transformed their bodies. Together, they would create the new generation of more perfect humans. But only a few weeks later, Micah had noticed Dharmaram’s very perfect eyesight when it came to ogling the surfers that walked past the house to get to the beach in the morning. Micah made excuses for him. After all, they weren’t dead. Looking didn’t hurt anything. Yeah, right.

And here he sat. Alone. Dharmaram didn’t want him. His customers didn’t want him.

He let his head drop forward. That was OK. He’d taken care of himself all his life. He could keep on doing it. Deep breath.

He stood up and walked to the kitchen, turned on the juicer, and piled in some spinach, kale, and parsley.

“Merwaor.”

Micah looked at Furtwangler, who’d jumped onto the counter. Still flexible after all these years. The old cat bumped his head against Micah’s hand to get a scratch.

Maybe someone needed Micah after all.

Tears ran down his face.

Chapter Two

“Mmmmpf.”

“Merwaor.”

Micah slid a hand from under the covers toward the ringing phone and got a furry head instead. He raised his face. Shit. Ten o’clock. The middle of the fucking day. Of course, he hadn’t been able to sleep until the middle of the fucking night. Too busy shoving Dharmaram’s crap onto the porch.

He patted the cat and grabbed the phone. “Yeah.”

“Hey, boss man. Where’s my juicer?”

Shoot. “Hi. Sorry. I’ve got it in the car but I overslept.”

“We’re really busy this morning. We could use two juicers. You OK?”

“Yeah. Kind of. Dharmaram and I split up.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“I know, I know.” Kathy hated the yoga teacher. Called him a user. A failing everyone had seemed to see except Micah.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this, sweetheart. Don’t worry about the juicer. Take your time. We’ll be fine.”

“Thanks. But I’ll get my shit together and bring it over there within the hour.”

“Okey dokey. Take a deep breath.”

“You mean like a yoga breath?” He barked a laugh.

“Anything but. See you in a bit.”

He hung up, got up, and padded into the kitchen. Furtwangler followed on his little cat feet. Micah gave the cat some great homemade food he’d concocted on the weekend and the fuzz-bucket fell to it. Of course, he gave the cat meat. That was felines’ natural food, unlike humans. Micah was sure he could keep the old guy around until he passed twenty with enough good nutrition and love.

Yeah, love keeps us alive. Tears filled his eyes again. Shit. No blubbering.

He showered, threw on some ratty jeans and a T-shirt, and let Furtwangler into his enclosed space in the back yard. It gave him lots of sunlight and butterflies to chase while keeping the coyotes away.

He started toward the front door and paused. Hell, there he was. Through the window Micah saw Dharmaram carrying some of his crap across the yard to big, honking, gas-guzzler of a truck. An attractive woman, probably in her mid-forties, followed him, hauling another armload. Micah recognized her. One of Dharmaram’s most devoted students. The woman took three or four classes a week. Maybe she was helping Dharmaram out? Giving him a ride?

Micah peeked through the curtain. Dharmaram went back for one last load, pushed it into the back of the truck, then walked to the driver’s side, gave the woman a big kiss, and took the keys. She giggled, crossed to the passenger side and got in. So the bastard had switched to women in his quest to get someone to take him in. Micah hoped he couldn’t get it up. Of course, Dharmaram’s cock got hard at the thought of money, and this woman probably had a bundle from the look of that vehicle.

Micah dropped the curtain. Done. Over. So much for fucking true love.

His phone rang and vibrated in his pocket. He should enjoy it. That might be the most action his cock got from now on.

He took it out and looked at the phone screen. Yancy. He clicked. “Hey, buddy. What’s up?”

“I just heard a rumor from Kathy. Is it true? Is it splitsville with you and fuckface?” Yancy didn’t like Dharmaram either. Why hadn’t Micah listened to his friends?

“Yeah. Done. He just pulled the last of his shit off my porch.”

“Good. Then you’re ready for anti-Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, hell no.”

“C’mon. You can’t be clinging to that happily-ever-after crap now. You just devoted a year of your life to a using loser who never appreciated what he had.”

“Oh, thanks for the reminder.”

“Just the truth, buddy. Come on. Come to the party tonight. I’ve got a boatload of talent waiting to suck your cock.”

Whoa. Micah’s cock leaped at the suggestion. Even with a boyfriend, nobody had sucked Micah’s cock in months. Dharmaram had just hammered his ass once a week and called it a sex life. “I don’t know.”

“I do. A night of meaningless sex in the name of anti-Valentine’s Day, right? Screw cupid and all manufactured holidays. Let’s prove that fucking makes the world go round.”

Micah stared at the coffee table where until today there had sat a beautiful piece of Murano glass that a wealthy friend had brought him from Italy. It was one of the few expensive things Micah owned that didn’t involve food or nutrition. No one could have taken it except Dharmaram. Maybe the bastard had sold it weeks ago and Micah hadn’t noticed. “Sure, I’ll come. What time shall I be there?”

* * *

He could still back out.

Micah walked his bike up on the lawn of the big home on the top of the hill. His heart beat fast from the pedal up the slope, but man, Yancy had a prime spot. Private, with a view to die for. Tonight, however, the view seemed to be low priority. All the windows were draped or shuttered. Yeah, and Micah knew why. Yancy’s anti-Valentine’s Day party was infamous. A big gaggle of gay men got together to say phooey and fuck-off to all the hearts and flowers bullshit of the holiday while sealing the deal with a ton of mindless sex in Yancy’s hot tub, sauna, pool house, and miscellaneous bedrooms. Or so Micah had heard. He’d never made the party despite the fact that he and Yancy were close friends. Everybody knew that Micah believed in love. Yancy, not so much.

He’d left Furtwangler sleeping on his bed and Micah could go home to him right now. But hell, he could use some sex, mindless or otherwise. Plus, he didn’t have to participate. He could just watch. No, that sounded bad. But he didn’t have to fuck anybody if he didn’t want to. Yancy said so.

OK, here goes.

He propped the bike against a tree and locked it, then walked up to the front porch and rang the bell.

The door flew open. Yikes. Someone grabbed his arm, and it took a second to realize it was Yancy doing the grabbing. Just that quick, he was inside Yancy’s foyer and the door was closed behind him. Yancy pushed Micah’s back to the wall and spoke in a low voice. “You made it. I was afraid you’d chicken out. Good, you’re not too late, so only a few guys have paired off. You can still pretty much have your pick.”

“It’s not that easy. I think the other guy has to agree, too.”

“Well, hell, who wouldn’t choose you? Look at you.”

OK, so Micah kind of knew that people thought he was good looking. He couldn’t see it himself. He was tall enough, but kind of skinny and mangy looking. His dark, almost black hair would not stay out of his eyes. His lips were too full and cheeks too lean. Using his bike as transportation made him fit—hell, he even had a six-pack—but altogether he looked like a survivor from a desert island. He grinned at Yancy. “You didn’t choose me.” He was kidding. They’d always been friends, but no sparks had ever flown.

Yancy took him seriously. “I can’t help it that I’m addicted to giant weightlifters and linebackers. If I could look at a guy under two ninety-five, I’d look at you.”

Micah laughed. “And you’d only be off by a hundred and fifty pounds.” He looked across Yancy’s shoulder into the living room beyond. Music played and the voices and laughter sounded louder now that he paid attention. “So what’s going on in there?”

“Lots of pickings.”

“Not sure how I feel about it.”

“Don’t worry. Take your time and see if there’s anything to your liking. This is a no-obligation event.”

Micah took a deep breath. “OK.”

“C’mon.”

Yancy led him into the living room, which on another occasion would have looked out over the ocean and the city lights of Laguna. As it was, the long drapes hanging over the cathedral windows were pulled tight. And it wasn’t hard to understand why. Most of the maybe fifty or so men stood in groups talking and flirting with drinks and some food in their hands. But on one chair, two guys were kissing like they could clean each other’s tonsils, and a glance down the hall showed a man leaning against the wall while another dude sucked him off. The orgy was beginning. Shee-it. Watching was sexy. It was hard to force his eyes away from the public blowjob. Hard being the operative word. The room even smelled like sex, and his cock was turning into a steel rod in his jeans.

Yancy led him to a bar. “What’ll you have?”

“Red wine if you’ve got it.”

“Of course. I even have the organic wine with no sulfates, just for you.”

“Hey, thanks man.”

Yancy poured some deep red wine into a stemmed glass and handed it to Micah. “Want me to introduce you around?”

“Naw. Let me wander a little.”

“OK, but no hiding.”

“Just want to get the lay of the land.”

Yancy clinked his glass to Micah’s. “I’m more concerned about Micah getting laid.”

He looked around the room. “What about rubbers? Are these guys using them?”

Yancy grinned. “I hand them out by the barrelful.” He reached in his pocket and, true to his word, produced a string of six condoms. “I want you to use every one.”

Micah laughed and his cock did its happy dance just at the thought. “No worries.”

He sipped his wine and walked over to the door to the patio and looked out. Wow. Heaters surrounded the huge pool and men took full advantage, skinny-dipping in the blue water. Bare asses ran along the pool deck, and two guys fucked against the far edge of the deep end while two other guys looked on with their cocks completely erect. Whoa. He needed some of that action. He really did.

He’d taken one step out when he caught a glimpse of a person walking by him in the dining room. Crap. Was that a woman? One of his hands reached down and covered his cock, which was funny since at least ten guys outside were naked and Micah was fully clothed. He turned and saw the skirt move into the kitchen. Good grief. Was it someone from the caterer? What could she possibly think of this orgy? She probably went in the kitchen to escape through the back door.

No way he was going to get naked with a woman hanging around. He wanted to see if she was gone. He skirted a group of chatting guys and one man grabbed his arm.

“Hey, you looking for me?”

The man was tall, clean-cut, and really good-looking. Micah tried to remember how to flirt. “I could be. I just have to get something in the kitchen.”

“Well, don’t forget where I am, OK handsome?” The guy leaned over and pecked Micah’s lips with his own.

It had been awhile. Micah grinned. “I’ll remember.” He didn’t really need to go after the woman, but what if she needed help? He pushed through the swinging kitchen door and found a couple caterers laughing and gossiping quietly in a corner. Yeah. Bet they had something to talk about. And there, back to him by the sink, was the woman.

As he looked at her now, Micah realized there was no way that she could be a caterer, unless she owned the company. The red dress was silk and those four-inch stilettos would have paid his mortgage for a month. She wasn’t real tall. Even with the shoes, he guessed she’d be a little shorter than his six feet. Very slim with just a slight rounding at her hips, strong, lean legs, and willowy arms in the long-sleeves. And a mane of golden hair fell over her shoulders. The color looked real but well-tended, like it cost a bundle to keep that silken shine.

Why the hell was Micah staring at her? Unlike his erstwhile boyfriend, he had no interest in women in any sexual or romantic sense. Never had. But what was she doing here?

She filled a glass from a spigot of filtered water. Her head went back so he assumed she was drinking. Suddenly her head turned toward him, and he was staring into brilliant blue eyes. “Did you want some water, too?”

Her voice was soft and low. A lilt suggested moonlight and magnolias.

“Uh, sure. Yes. I’d like some.”

She reached into a cabinet like she owned the place, pulled out a glass, and filled it from the spigot. Micah watched the play of muscles across the low back of her dress. Then she turned with the water glass extended. Man, what a beauty. Delicate, sculptured features—wide eyes, soft lips, a pointed chin—all surrounded by the velvet blanket of smooth gold hair.

Micah stared and…stared. Beautiful face. Beautiful Adam’s apple.

“You’re a guy.”

She…uh…he smiled. “Of course. Why else would I be here, sugah?” The “why” sounded like “wha” and the “I” like “ah.”

Micah grinned. “Excellent question. You’re quite convincing as a woman. And very beautiful.” Jesus, his body didn’t care what the guy was. Total turn-on.

“Thank you, kind sir. So are you.”

Micah stuck out his hand. “I’m Micah.”

He took it. His skin was so soft Micah could barely feel it except for the warmth that flowed straight to his balls.

He smiled. “I’m called Queen.”

“But you’re not a queen are you? I mean a drag queen?”

He smiled. Hell, it was practically demure. “No. Just a man who likes to wear women’s clothes sometimes.”

Micah was out of his depth here, but man, he felt willing to drown. “Like a transvestite?”

Queen sipped his water. “I prefer to avoid labels. I only get the chance to dress up occasionally. And I’m perfectly happy in men’s clothes as well.”

Micah smiled. “It’s confusing.”

He looked up through his lashes, which were darker than his hair. “How so?”

“I’m not usually attracted to women.”

“Ah, but I’m not a woman.” He took Micah’s hand that wasn’t holding the glass and pulled it to his crotch. Not demure at all. And oh baby. A big hard lump pressed through the silk against Micah’s palm. Whatever that thing was that drag queens wore under their clothes to disguise their cock, Queen wasn’t wearing it. Micah squeezed gently and Queen’s eyes closed.

“God, I have to stop thinking of you as a woman.” He squeezed again and a soft moan slipped out of Queen’s lips. “This doesn’t feel at all feminine.”

Queen leaned forward and raised his lips to Micah’s ear. “Why don’t we go somewhere, uh, more public?” His eyes glanced over Micah’s shoulder.

Shit. He’d forgotten about the caterers. Surely they were pre-approved by Yancy. Still. He took Queen’s hand and walked out of the kitchen door.

In the living room and out by the pool the party had gotten into full swing. A guy leaned over a footstool and two other men took turns hammering his ass while he wailed and other guys stood around stroking their erections. Just as Yancy promised, the condoms were flying. Holy shit. Micah had never seen a porn movie this out of control.

But God it was sexy! Palms-sweating and cock-aching sexy.

He tightened his grip on Queen and pulled him to the hallway. The hall made a turn, and Micah bumped into a guy leaning against the wall while another guy deep throated his cock. Transfixed, he stared at the cock disappearing into that wet mouth and then reappearing all shiny and dripping. Both men moaned and mewled as they worked. Micah’s balls tightened and black dots floated in front of his eyes. It felt like he was getting the blowjob. Could a human be this turned on and survive?

He looked at Queen who stared just as fixedly with a little smile on his lips. His blue eyes flicked up to Micah’s. “Do you like that?”

“Hell yes.”

“My, so do I. Want me to blow you?”

Keeerap. In twenty-six years of being gay, he’d never gotten such a direct invitation. “Yes.”

Queen smiled like he’d just asked Micah to a garden party. He pulled on Micah’s hand, skirted past the very involved couple, and peeked into the first bedroom they came to.

“Unh, unh, unh. Oh baby.”

Queen looked up and smiled. “No privacy there.”

The next bedroom door was closed and locked. They looked into the third and found six guys on a king-size bed all sucking on each other. Micah trembled. If he stuck his hands in his pants and jerked off nobody would even care. Except maybe Queen.

The beautiful guy stepped in front of Micah and pushed him against a closed door at the end of the hall. “This place is busier than a billy goat’s ass in a pepper patch. Looks like we don’t get privacy, sugah.” Queen dropped to his knees, ripped down the zipper in Micah’s jeans, and had his throbbing, straining cock out of its hidey-hole and into his mouth on the count of three.

“Holy shit!”

“Ummmm.” Queen sucked like a pool cleaner. Oh. My. God. No way Micah could last more than a second. Never, never had he received head like this. Those red-painted lips left pink stains on his cock as it slipped in and out of Queen’s mouth. His tongue caressed the head and tickled the frenum as those lips did a vacuum move on Micah’s shaft. Oh God, never let it stop.

But no. He didn’t want to come like this. He knew what he’d been missing and, damn, he wanted it. He ran his hands through Queen’s silky hair. “Wait. Wait. Can I fuck you? I’ve got condoms and lube.”

Queen’s blue eyes looked up. He popped Micah’s cock from that fantastic mouth. “Most gentlemen seem to prefer oral.”

“Yeah, well I’d really love to fuck you if you’re into it. Otherwise, suck me and then I’ll suck you.”

Queen stood up, smoothing the red dress over a very prominent bulge. “You certain?”

Jeez. Why did he want to explain? Micah pressed both hands to either side of Queen’s beautiful face. “I don’t know if you care, but I’m not promiscuous. I’ve been with one guy for a year and before that was a long dry spell. I just came to this party because he cheated on me and we split. I was pissed off and wanted to do something stupid. But the idea of fucking you is about the sexiest, most incredible thing I’ve ever thought of. If you’ll have me.”

Queen smiled. “And you’re about the sweetest thing I ever did see. In case you care, I’ve never been to one of Yancy’s parties before. I’m new in town and mostly just wanted to wear my dress somewhere safe. But I think getting fucked by you, darlin’, would be the best thing ever.”

Micah’s smile was so huge it stretched his cheeks. “Come on.”

“Where?”

Micah reached back and opened the door he was leaning against. He glanced inside. Yes! “It’s a bathroom and I didn’t think I heard anyone in it.” He pulled Queen into the large slate-floored room with the long wooden vanity and bowl sinks. Micah closed and locked the door after them. “There. Alone at last.”

His cock, still sticking out of his jeans, throbbed and bobbed. Funny, he felt kind of shy now by himself with this beautiful creature.

Queen stepped in front of him and took two small steps to press his hips against Micah’s leaking cock.

Micah chuckled. “Careful. Don’t want to stain your beautiful dress.”

Queen’s lips came up by Micah’s ear and one hand grasped Micah’s dick. “I want you to stain me and muss me. Ride me and put me up wet, darlin’.”

“Shit.” He grabbed Queen’s head and closed his mouth over those luscious lips. Oh sweet. Queen melted against Micah and wrapped his arms tight around Micah’s waist as his mouth opened and received hot tongue. Sweet God, could he get deep enough? Micah pressed his tongue in and out, in and out, while their hips surged together. Micah ripped his mouth away. “Oh God. Gotta fuck.” He pulled lube and condoms from his back pocket as Queen turned around and bent over the counter. Micah gasped at that red butt pointed at him. Fast. He pulled the dress up over Queen’s back and found a gorgeous, hard-muscled ass outlined by a black and red thong. “You are kidding me. That is so gorgeous.”

“You like, sugah?”

“Sweet crap. You’re beautiful.”

“Then get that cock in me, darlin’. I’m dyin’ here.” Queen reached back and pulled at the thong. Oh God. The red lace slid down slim muscled thighs and two gorgeous, pearly white, completely shaved balls fell down in the space between his legs.

Micah could barely breathe. “You weren’t kidding about being a man.”

Queen raised a hand to his front and pushed a big dripping cock down between the balls so Micah could see the head and several inches of shaft. “That man enough for you?”

What possessed him? Micah leaned over and kissed that silky butt, then spread those taut cheeks and insinuated his tongue between them to rim a tight pink hole. The taste was clean and musky. Nicer than he ever could have dreamed.

Queen whimpered. Micah pulled back. “That’s where I’m going to put this baby.” He pulled his jeans down to his ankles along with his briefs and stepped out of them. Queen gazed over his shoulder while Micah stroked himself like a porn star. What had gotten into him?

Queen handed him a condom and lube packet he’d opened with his teeth. Micah fitted the condom then poured some lube in his palm, scooped two fingers worth, and pressed it into Queen’s puckered hole.

“Ooooh, yes.” The pretty butt waggled. “More please.”

He pressed in while Queen moaned. God, it was hot and tight. He might pass out. “I gotta get in there.”

“Yes, darlin’, yes.”

Micah slathered his cock and pressed against the hole. Just as he pushed, Queen shoved back on him, and in one flash his dick buried to the hilt in sweet hotness. “Holy shit!”

And then they just rutted. He couldn’t push hard enough and it seemed like Queen felt the same. They banged against each other, balls flying.

Oh God, he wanted to see Queen’s face. “Wait.” He pulled out and Queen wailed. Micah turned Queen’s body around and lifted him up on the counter, ripping the thong off and throwing it on the toilet lid. He dragged Queen to the edge, grabbed his own cock, and positioned it.

Queen got the idea. He put a hand on Micah’s dick and pushed it into his ass then wrapped his legs, still wearing four-inch stilettos, around Micah’s waist. Micah held him up and began to thrust wildly. Queen’s cock rubbed against Micah’s belly, leaving hot trails of precum. His eyes closed, red lips parted, and the golden hair flew around his head as Micah hammered and hammered.

Micah screamed. Hell, who cared? Half the house was screaming. “Oh God, this feels so good. So good.”

“Yes, darlin’, Yes. Fuck me. Fuck me. Oh sweeeeeeet.” Hot streams of cum burst out of that very masculine cock all over Micah’s belly and shirt. He wanted to lick it off.

Fire! Straight from his balls into his cock and out in jets of semen, pouring into the condom buried in the hottest ass he’d ever known. His vision went dark then light, and the orgasm seemed to spread from his cock to every cell in his legs and arms. Sweet God, it wouldn’t stop.

He fell forward to get Queen’s butt back on the counter so he didn’t drop him, then pressed his face into that lightly perfumed neck. “What have you done to me?”

The soft, sultry voice murmured, “Just a little Southern hospitality, sugah.”

Breathing. No easy task. He kissed Queen gently below the crystal earring dangling from his lobe. “Any chance you’d like to go home with me and do that again?”

Not sure why he’d said that, but he could use a lot more sugar.

Silence.

Micah pulled back and looked into those blue eyes. They looked what? Wary? Sad? Micah tried a smile. “Sorry if I overstepped.” He gently pulled his happy, depleted cock from that pink, shiny butt and disposed of his condom.

Queen shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. But I actually have to go. I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Another date?”

He frowned. “No, nothing like that.”

Hell, this was supposed to be a one-nighter. Or a not-even-one-nighter. He should let go. Still. He tossed the condom. “Any chance I could see you again?”

Micah got fixed with a steady blue gaze surrounded by mascaraed lashes. “Do you have something to write with?”

Micah patted his pockets and shook his head.

Queen grabbed a piece of tissue then reached into the front of his dress and pulled out a lipstick. He wrote a number on the tissue and carefully folded it. “This is a private number. My life is complicated. I may answer or not. Either way, I loved meeting you and I loved this.” He leaned forward and kissed Micah gently on the lips. “Why don’t I go first, darlin’?” He bent down and grabbed his panties from the toilet top, tucked them in with the lipstick, gave a small wave, and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Micah looked down at his dangling cock and bare legs.

What in the hell had just happened?

Chapter Three

Queen walked into his bedroom and kicked off his stilettos. Oh lordy, he wasn’t used to them and his feet were aching. But hearts on fire, what a night. One for the record books for sure.

He unzipped the dress and tossed it in the basket of dry cleaning he kept at the back of his closet exclusively for Queen clothes. A front snap took care of the padded bra and the panties tucked into it. It had been sexy driving home with his bare cock brushing the silk of his dress. Of course, compared to his hook-up with that hot guy, Micah, everything paled in sexiness.

Would he call? Did Queen want him to? Hell’s bells, he didn’t need any more complications in his life. He created enough of his own. But, oh my, that man was hot. Hard, hard, hard to resist.

He sat at his dressing table and carefully removed the blonde wig. His very best. Everyone thought it was real. He put the wig on the stand and then stood and carried it to the back cabinet of his walk-in closet and tucked it away. Who knew when he’d get to pull it out next?

Back at the dressing table, he creamed his face to take off the makeup and ran a comb through his head of wheat-colored curls. He stared at his bare face. Even with no makeup and his own hair he knew he could pass for a girl. Not such a glamorous one as Queen. More of an ingénue. He took out the earrings and put them in his jewelry box. Time for a shower.

After a quick wash off, he pulled on his khakis and a white long-sleeved shirt and walked through the condo to the back door. The down vest hung on a hook for a quick grab, and he headed out across the walkway to the next-door condo. He glanced at his watch. Only eleven. My. He felt like Scrooge or something, living a whole bunch of lives in a few hours.

He put the key in the lock and entered the kitchen. The sound of the television drifted in from the parlor. He walked toward it. “Hi, NeeNee. Sorry to be so late. Ready for bed?”

Mary Beth Allerton Darby looked up from her place on the sofa. “Hi darlin’. Did you have a good time tonight?”

“I did, thank you, ma’am. Someone got their hair done today.”

His grandmother patted the curls she had passed on to future generations. The wheat color shared space with a lot of silver, but the face-framing style looked young and current. “Thank you for noticin’.” She patted the sofa and put the volume on mute.

“Come tell me about your evening.”

Oops. He hated lying to his grandmother, but that wasn’t as bad as being a disappointment. “I went to a party at a friend’s house. He called it anti-Valentine’s Day. For all of the people he knows who are unpartnered at this time of year.”

“How very cynical of him.” She laughed. “But I am delighted that you are making friends. How did you meet?”

“At a coffee shop.” The Shell gay bar probably served coffee. “We struck up a conversation.”

“How nice. But you left the party early. I could have gotten myself to bed. I am still fully capable.”

“I know, dear, but I enjoy helping you. Humor me.” And it was true. Mary Beth pretty much defined his heart. She was the only parent he’d known since he was small. How he wished he could have been the man she wanted him to be. But that train had left. So doing small things for her was the best he could manage.

“Why don’t you invite him over some time?”

“Umm. It’s not a close friendship, dear. I wouldn’t want to expose you to someone I barely know.” Like a rich gay guy who threw Valentine’s Day orgies.

“You know best.”

“Time for bed?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful. And you get some rest too.” She put her hand on his cheek. “You look a little tired.”

Oh my, if she only knew.

* * *

Oh no, not Tim Croner too.

Micah tried to look nonchalant, sitting on the bench as he stared across PCH at the line outside Charismatic Cupcakes. At least ten people waited patiently to be poisoned. The place was a veritable cesspool of bad nutrition that bunches of his customers were queued up to dive into.

Shoot. He’d planned to walk over, slip surreptitiously into the store, and try to get a look at this paragon of an owner that the girls had told him about. Maybe Micah could explain to this Quentin what he was trying to accomplish with his regular customers and how eating a cupcake in the middle of a feeding and fasting cycle would undo a lot of good work. Maybe the guy would listen. Huh, fat chance.

But no way was he going in there if his customers were hanging around. The four lane road between him and the shop made seeing into the window pretty much impossible, but he got a good look at the people anxiously waiting outside for the white flour and sugar bombs.

Oh hell, no use obsessing. He got up and started walking up the block toward The Place. Speaking of obsessing. Should he or should he not call Queen?

He stopped walking. Just thinking of the guy made Micah’s whole body tingle. He’d never had an encounter like that. He’d never had an orgasm like that. Not even close. It was like there was sex and then there was Queen.

Micah glanced around. It seemed like people should be able to tell what he was thinking about just from looking at him. He could still feel that hot mouth on his cock and the tight perfection of Queen’s ass. Yeah, and if he kept thinking about it, everyone would be able to tell what he was thinking from the eight-inch erection sticking out his pants.

He started walking again. Had he really hooked up with a transvestite? Hell, Micah was a regular guy, not some exotic sex fetishist. And why was he even considering calling Queen for another meeting? What would his customers say? They’d all known Dharmaram. That relationship made sense, since his ex was a yoga teacher and Micah was a natural food expert. They matched. Well, no they didn’t actually, but in theory they matched. But Queen? Everyone would think Micah had lost his mind.

Whoa. Way ahead of himself here. Queen might not even answer if he called. The pretty man had said his life was complicated. That was another thing Micah did not need. He’d been there and done that since he was a kid. No more complications required, no way.

* * *

Queen pulled up in front of the low building on Glenneyre Street. “Have a great class, dear, and call me when you’re ready to go home.”

“I will, thank you.” Mary Beth opened the car door.

The phone in Queen’s back pocket, the private phone, buzzed. Damn. His fingers itched to look.

It buzzed again. His grandmother turned toward him. “Aren’t you going to answer your phone?”

He grinned. “Actually, it’s my extra phone. I mostly give the number to people I may not want to talk to.”

“You wicked boy.” She grasped his arm. “See who it is.”

Oh my. He pulled the phone from his pocket and stared at the number. “I don’t know who it’s from. I should forget it.”

His grandmother cocked her head. “Darlin’, you seem concerned about that call.”

He sighed. “I think it’s someone I met at the party, but I’m not sure.”

Her pretty face lit up. “Well go ahead and answer. I’m dying of curiosity.”

Hell’s bells. He clicked the phone. “Hello.”

“Queen?”

“Yes.”

“Uh, this is Micah.”

“Yes.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry. I guess I called at a bad time.”

“Yes.” Why were his silly hands shaking? “I mean no. Hold on.” He put his hand over the phone. “NeeNee, it’s my friend. So you go to class and let me chat a bit, OK?”

She fluttered her eyelashes. “Is it a good friend?”

Oh dear. “None of your business, you naughty matchmaker. Off with you.”

“OK, but I want to hear every detail after class. I’ll call when I’m ready to go home.”

“Have a good yoga class.”

She got out and closed the door.

Queen watched her walk away then uncovered the phone. “Sorry. I had someone with me.”

“Part of that complicated life you spoke of.”

Queen frowned. “Yes.”

“Does your life allow you to maybe have dinner with me tonight?”

“Tonight?” His voice squeaked.

“Sorry, I know I should be a gentleman and give you more notice but…hell, I really would love to see you again.”

Queen raised an eyebrow. “See?”

“OK, there’s no doubt I would love to have sex with you again, but I thought maybe we could have a date and get to know each other a little.”

Now there was a minefield. “Do you want me in boy clothes or girl clothes?”

Micah laughed and the sound vibrated through Queen’s balls. “It may ruin my reputation as a good gay man, but wear the girl clothes if you want to. I might not recognize you any other way.”

Well, well. “Where and what time shall I meet you?”

“I can pick you up.”

Oh no. “Meeting is better.”

“OK. Do you know where Dizzy’s is?”

“I can find it.”

“I’ll make a reservation for seven thirty.”

“See you then.”

Queen hung up and looked in the rear view mirror at his curls and the delicate face that reflected many generations of fine old South Carolina breeding. Finally, it had happened. Quentin Makepeace Darby the Third had lost his frigging mind.

* * *

Two hours later, Quentin aka Queen, pulled up in front of the same low building. Mary Beth wasn’t outside, so he parked and walked in. Passing through a small reception area with a desk and a rack with some yoga clothes displayed, he looked through a door into a large open room with hardwood floors, one mirrored wall, and not much else. Right now the floor was covered with a potpourri of people, old and young, fat and skinny, all sitting on yoga mats facing a handsome young man who stood at the front, looking sleek and fit in black tights and a slim T-shirt that said “Dharmaram Yoga.” Mary Beth sat cross-legged, looking trim and far less than her eighty-three years, on her own mat about halfway back in the room.

The teacher said, “Practice your focus technique over the next two days and we’ll have a short meditation after we finish postures on Friday. Remember, don’t strain, just relax into your poses.” He placed his palms together and bowed. “Namaste.”

The students got to their feet and repeated the gesture to their teacher. “Namaste.”

Quentin grinned. Mary Beth looked like a seasoned veteran even though she’d only been in the class a few weeks. She glanced back and he waved. Smiling, she gathered up her mat, turned, and then exchanged a few words with a man standing beside her. She smiled up at the tall, white-haired gentleman. Interesting. She laughed and then threaded her way through the mats and people to Quentin’s side.

He gave her a one-armed hug. “You look very serene and meditative, ma’am.”

She gave a little curtsey that looked cute in her baggy cotton pants. “Thank you, kind sir.”

“And who is your handsome friend?”

“Oh, that’s George. He’s helping me catch up on some of the postures they learned before I joined the class.” Nonchalant, but he swore she blushed a little.

Quentin looked up at the instructor who was gazing toward them intently. “You like your teacher?”

Mary Beth gave the yoga teacher a nod and a little wave then said sotto voce, “He’s staring at you because you’re so good looking. He seems to have diverse tastes.”

“Oh, how so?”

“Currently, I’ve see him with an older woman who is also one of his students, but I used to see him with a good-looking man.”

“He must know a lot of people, dear.”

She raised her eyebrows. “In this case I think ‘know’ in the Biblical sense might be more accurate. Anyway, he’s a good teacher and knows a lot about instructing beginners like me. He just weirds me out a little.”

Quentin bleated a laugh then slapped a hand over his mouth. “I do not believe you just said that. You must be hanging out in questionable company, young lady.”

She gave him a sassy glance. “The nice thing about being a lady is you can get away with so much.”

Laughing, he guided her out to the car and helped her in. “So, shall we go to lunch before I take you home?”

“That would be lovely. But first, I’m dying to know about your call. I don’t want to pry at all if it’s personal. But I must admit to being a might curious.”

He knew she meant it about not prying. Sadly, his whole life was personal. “Not much to tell. The call was from a man I met at that party. We seemed to have a lot in common, and he asked if I wanted to get together, like for a beer or something.”

“I didn’t know you drank beer.”

He smiled as he pulled away from the curb. “I don’t, but I imagine I can have wine or a cocktail. It’s just a man’s excuse for having a chat.” Even if one of the men was in drag and they planned to have sex later.

“I see. How nice.” She put a hand on his arm. “I want you to have friends here. After moving all the way from South Carolina to California for me, I want this to be a good place for you.”

He glanced at her big blue eyes, so like his own. “Thank you. But I wanted to come here as much as you did. It’s better for you to be away from all that humidity.”

“And all that judgment.”

He stared at her and quickly looked back at the road. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing really. I just got tired of everyone thinking and doing and living the same way. I think Laguna Beach will be a lot more exciting, don’t you?”

She was a wonder. She’d said she wanted to move to California for her health. Away from the moisture and mold that plagued the low country of the southeast. He’d thought it odd that she didn’t pick Arizona or someplace equally arid, but she insisted that the southwestern states were too dry. She wanted the nice balance of southern California. He’d never heard this other reason before. “So we came here for excitement, is that it?” He grinned.

“Ab-so-tooten-lutely.”

He practically wrecked the car he was laughing so hard.

* * *

Why the hell was he doing this? Micah looked again at the menu. Everything on it was cooked! He dropped it on the bar and sipped his grapefruit juice. Fresh squeezed. Not bad at all.

Maybe Queen wouldn’t come. Damn, half of Micah would be relieved and the other half—clearly the lower half—would want to commit suicide. He should have chosen a vegan restaurant, but everyone around Micah kept telling him what an asshole he was lately. They didn’t care if Micah had their best interests at heart; they wanted him to lighten up. Well this is how that looked. Him ready to foot a big bill and get nothing to eat. Maybe he should…holy crap.

Queen stood in the doorway between the indoor restaurant and the outdoor patio. Both venues were crowded with people, but Queen looked like he was alone on a catwalk or something. “Queen” was clearly the correct title. His pale blonde hair hung around his shoulders, decorating the lacey blouse that opened over delicate collarbones and the slight swell of his imaginary breasts. That face. Wow. He wore maybe a little mascara and a touch of pink lipstick, but that was all. Amazing. Even without the eyeliner and brilliant red lips, the illusion of Queen’s femininity was complete.

Micah stood. It was only a few steps to the door. “Hi.”

Queen moved gracefully down to the floor level. His black skirt swirled around those lean legs. Hard not to think of how the red dress’s skirt had flipped so handily up to expose Queen’s beautiful butt.

“Hi.” Queen extended his left hand and Micah took it. Not a handshake in any way. A meeting of flesh. A tiny embrace.

Had he just been wondering why he’d come? Don’t be nuts. Micah squeezed Queen’s hand just a little and felt an answering squeeze in his balls. “Would you like a drink or we can go straight to our table? They said it’s ready.”

“The table is fine.” The word came out “fahn” and Micah almost sighed. Still holding his hand, Micah led his beautiful companion around the already full tables and down the small ramp into the back room of the shabby-chic restaurant. Heads turned, both male and female. Appropriate. The owner had given him a table for two tucked into the corner. Best spot in the house. Nice of him since Micah hardly qualified as a regular.

He held Queen’s chair then sat beside him. “You look beautiful.”

“Most kind. You look mighty fine yourself.”

Micah ducked his head. Embarrassing how many times he’d changed clothes trying to decide what Queen would like. “Thank you.”

The busboy brought them two little glasses of some kind of white wine and a tray of crackers with what had to be goose liver. He hadn’t ordered it but remembered being told it was a regular part of the meal. Try not to shudder. Fortunately, there were also some radishes and slices of raw zucchini on the plate. Micah grabbed one and put it on his bread plate. Lifeline.

“Cheers.” Queen held up his glass and Micah clinked it. The sip wasn’t half bad. Some very mild wine. “What is it, do you think?”

Queen smiled. “It’s vermouth. Never had it before?”

“No, but it’s good.”

Queen smeared some of the brownish paste on a cracker. God, Micah didn’t even want to think about it. He nibbled the zucchini.

The waiter stepped up to their table. He was a pleasant-looking guy who was so relaxed and at home he clearly owned the place or at least had a vested interest. “Hi. What can I get you to drink?”

Queen looked at Micah. “What are you going to have?”

Might as well ask. “Do you happen to have any organic wines?”

“Yes, actually we have two.” The waiter opened the wine list and pointed to two brands. Micah didn’t know the names. “I’d like a glass of whichever one you recommend.”

Queen nodded. “That sounds good. I’ll try that too.”

The waiter left and they both picked up their menus. Micah was clearly going to have to strike some kind of deal with the waiter because no way he could eat this food.

Queen glanced up through his lashes. “What do you like?”

God, it was hard being such a pill, but harder not to be. “Actually, I eat mostly raw food, so I’m going to ask them to make me a salad.”

“Interesting.” Queen took another bite of his cracker. “I’m assuming you don’t eat raw meat.”

“No, I’m vegan.”

Queen got a scolding teacher look on that pretty face. “So why on earth didn’t you choose a place where you could get something to eat?”

Micah grinned. “I wanted to take you to a place you’d like. Plus, I’m sure they’ll feed me.”

“All appearances to the contrary, I really am a man. I’m actually a pretty well-off man and I don’t expect you to pay for dinner. I enjoy you letting me do my little masquerade with you, but I want to pay the check and I won’t take no for an answer.”

Micah frowned. “That wasn’t my plan.”

“Your chivalry is duly noted and sincerely appreciated, kind sir.”

Wow. Queen kept surprising him.

The waiter came back with the wine. “Have you decided on dinner or do you need a few more minutes?”

Queen put his hand on the waiter’s arm and literally fluttered his lashes. The waiter’s laid-back command got a little less so at Queen’s melting smile. “My friend needs a lovely big salad with many wonderful vegetables in it. Can you do that? He eats his food raw, you see.”

“I’m sure the chef can come up with something great.”

“Why thank you. And I would like the salmon, please. With that lovely caper sauce you have described in the menu.”

“Excellent choice. Rice or potatoes.”

“Rice will be fine.”

The waiter walked away, and Queen raised his glass. “To getting what we want in this life.”

“Hear, hear.”

They both sipped. Dry and smooth. He could get used to this.

“So what led you to this raw food choice?”

Micah stared at those full lips touched with pink and the wide blue eyes. “I guess I could tell you all the truths about living enzymes and how cooking kills food and that our digestive system is not designed to eat meat.” He sighed. “But actually, my mother was an alcoholic who never met a vegetable she liked. As a child, I desperately tried to keep her from killing herself with her lifestyle. The worse she got, the more rigid I got. Finally, she succeeded in doing herself in from alcohol poisoning. I was nineteen, and she had drunk up every dime we had every year of my life. No Christmas presents, no new school clothes. The only thing she had was a life insurance policy her parents had taken out for her. They had arranged to have the premium paid automatically from their small estate after they died. It came to me. I didn’t have enough for chiropractic school, so I studied nutrition and health and bought a small health food restaurant. That’s what I do.”

Man that was the most personal shit he’d told anybody in…forever. He’d never even told Dharmaram about his mother.

Queen leaned forward. “Funny how we shape our lives either in concert or in opposition to our blood kin.”

He sure had a charming way of speaking.

Queen chewed some more pate. “So you own a restaurant?”

“Actually more of a breakfast and lunch place. We stay open into the early evening but don’t have a separate dinner menu. Our biggest traffic is for fresh juice, sandwiches, salads, things like that.”

“Is it all raw food?”

Micah shook his head. “Oh no. I’d go out of business. But I teach raw food classes. I have a nice clientele of dedicated people who want to try to improve their diets.” If he didn’t count the occasional crappy cupcake.

“How interesting. I’m also—”

“Here’s your dinner.” The waiter placed a huge salad in front of Micah and a plate of salmon with sauce, rice, and vegetables at Queen’s place. He smiled at Queen. “Look good?”

Queen flashed his straight, white teeth and the guy about fell over. “It looks delicious.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

Queen glanced at Micah, who nodded. “It looks great, thanks.”

They dug in. The salad actually tasted good. The kitchen staff had knocked themselves out to please him. Or rather to please Queen. Queen seemed to love his food. They chatted about politics, and Micah beamed when Queen said he’d voted for the proposition to require labeling of genetically modified foods.

They took their time. People came and went from the tables around them. Finally Micah started to put down his credit card and Queen stayed his hand. “I told you. My treat.” He fished in his purse and came out with a platinum card.

Micah shook his head. “I really appreciate it. I’ve never had anyone take me out before.” Just using and abusing boyfriends.

“Really? Well that’s something that needs to change.” Queen sat back in his chair and tasted a little wine. “I really like this choice and—oh my.”

“What is it?”

Queen nodded toward the area of the restaurant closest to the front door. “The man who just came in. I know him. Or maybe I should say I know of him.”

Micah looked over his shoulder. Shit. Dharmaram and his lady friend. “Sadly, I know him too.” Micah turned back to Queen. “How do you know him?”

A crease appeared between Queen’s fair eyebrows. “You first.”

Micah sighed. “He’s my ex. The rat.”

The blue eyes widened. “You’re joking?”

“Not even.”

Queen stared over Micah’s shoulder. “Well, call me amazed. Mary Beth was right.”

“Mary Beth?”

Queen looked startled. “Oh. Yes, well, uh, Mary Beth is my grandmother.”

What? “And how does she know Dharmaram?”

“Yes, that’s the name. He’s her yoga teacher.”

Micah frowned. “Don’t worry. He’s actually a good teacher, even if he is pretty questionable in other ways.”

“That’s what she said. She noted that he was now with a woman. Must be the lady he’s with tonight. But she said he used to be with a good-looking young man, that I now assume was you. Small world.” He sipped.

“Actually, Laguna is a small world. So is your grandmother the complexity you mentioned?”

He sighed. “Very much so. She’s like my mother, and I guess you could say we take care of each other.”

“What happened to your parents?”

“They died in a small plane crash when I was just two. Mary Beth took over and raised me. She lost her husband before I was born, but she was well off even before he died. And she’s added to that over the years with real estate purchases. Quite a feat for a dyed-in-the-cotton southern lady.”

Micah took a drink of water. “Why are you here instead of South Carolina?”

“Her choice. She said it was for her health, but I’m starting to wonder about that.” Queen glanced again over Micah’s shoulder. “By the way, your ex-friend is staring intently at us. Funny. He also stared at me when I went to pick up Mary Beth, but, of course, I looked quite different then.”

“He’s probably wondering what I’m doing with a woman.” Micah laughed. “It couldn’t have been a snap being gay and, uh, a fan of women’s clothes in South Carolina.”

Queen raised his finely arched brows. “It certainly was not.”

“Maybe that’s why your grandmother wanted to move here?”

He waved a hand in front of his face. “Oh my no. Mary Beth knows nothing of my proclivities.”

“Proclivities? You don’t mean you’ve never told her you’re gay?”

He nodded. “I do mean.”

“Well hell, Queen. How do you manage that?”

“Very carefully.” But Micah saw the hurt in his eyes. “The yoga teacher is still staring. His lady friend must be livid.”

Micah put his hand over Queen’s. “How about we leave?”

“I’d like that.”

“I can take you somewhere else.”

He grinned. “Somewhere like your place?”

Micah’s breath sucked in. “Do you want to come to my place?”

Queen looked down at his manicured nails. “If you want me to.”

“Are you kidding? Of course I want you to.” Micah took a last sip of wine. “Do you think I could see what you look like as a guy? It’s not essential. I love you just like this.”

Queen lips curved softly. “You do?”

Micah felt heat in his face. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“I’m only teasing. I’m sure you will be getting a good look at my man parts one way or another.” He pulled a red shawl from his purse and settled it around his shoulders.

“Yes, I would love to go to your place, although I can’t be too late as I check on Mary Beth at night. Or perhaps I should say I come to her home so she can check on me.” Queen laughed.

Micah leaned over near Queen’s ear. “The way I feel here with you, I don’t think you’ll have to stay late to satisfy both of us. I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“Oh, I love it when you talk dirty.” He flipped the shawl over his shoulder and stood. Micah got up beside Queen and met Dharmaram’s wide-eyed stare full on.

Queen walked with swaying hips right past Micah’s gaping ex-lover. Micah nodded slightly toward Dharmaram and his bill-paying lady friend and sailed past them as well. That was weird, but the best part of the evening had just begun.

Chapter Four

His stomach felt like a bag full of cats. Quentin walked into Micah’s charming Laguna cottage and took a deep breath. He might drawl a good game, but he wasn’t that experienced sexually. He’d played the role of the flagrant seducer at the party with Micah. That was fun but not his true nature. Although Charleston had its gay population, Mary Beth was a prominent citizen there, and her grandson well known by association. He’d adopted the drag at first just to be able to go out with men and not be recognized. Then he’d found he really liked it. But his lovers were few. Mostly quick, back-alley hookups with guys who had as much to lose as he did.

“Make yourself at home.” Micah put a hand on Quentin’s shoulder and it flashed straight to his nether regions. Oh my, the boy was sexy. Micah took Quentin’s shawl and hung it on a clothes hook on the back of the closet door. “If you need the bathroom, it’s down the hall on the right.”

“You’re home is so nice.” Quentin looked around the small entry that gave way to a delightful old-fashioned style parlor on the right and a formal dining room on the left. The kitchen appeared to be beyond the dining room. No open concept here. A house from another century. “How long have you owned it?”

“A couple years. Come on in.” Micah pointed toward the parlor, and Quentin followed him in. The room had a thick rug covering the hardwood floors and a few pieces of older furniture. Everything was clean, if a little Spartan. The walls featured some art of whales and underwater creatures. Quite pretty, though unexpected in the old house.

Quentin smiled. “Do you mind if I take my shoes off?”

“I’ve got to admit I’m relieved you don’t find those shoes comfortable. They have to be torture.” Micah laughed.

“Yes. Sadly, women suffer horribly for their art.” Quentin slipped off the pumps. Oh yes. Much better. How nice that Micah now looked down on him by a few inches. It made him feel—delicate.

“Merwaor.”

“Well, hello there.” A rail-thin tabby cat rubbed against his legs. “Who have we here?”

“Miss Queen may I present Furtwangler, fur person extraordinaire. But if you’re allergic or anything, I can put him away.”

“Oh my, no. I love fur persons.” That earned him a big smile from Micah. Quentin knelt and scratched the cat under his slim chin. “Will he let me pick him up?”

“Try it. He’ll scamper away if he’s not into it.”

He slipped a hand under a very narrow belly and lifted. The cat turned in his arms and presented his undersides ripe for attention. “Ah, I understand. You’re a belly rub lover.”

“Belly rub slut is more like it. He’ll love you forever.”

“I like him.” Quentin sat on the long blue velour couch and devoted attention to a prime belly rub. The cat purred like a motorboat. “What kind of name is Furtwangler?”

“It’s the most rapidly disappearing glacier in the world. My Furtwangler is seventeen and he was old when I adopted him from my mother, so he was already kind of skinny. Hence, the name.”

“What a great cat. I should get a cat like this.” He smiled up at Micah and the guy’s expression was soft and sweet. Oh my.

Micah pointed toward the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Quentin gave a little wink. “What have you got that’s organic?”

“I might have some wine. I’ve got tea and some fresh juice I squeezed at noon today. Not first class nutrition, but still good.”

Oh, the boy was so earnest. And so good looking. That lean body, the full lips, that shock of hair that flopped in front of one eye. “The juice sounds wonderful.”

Micah left and Quentin concentrated on the fuzzy belly below him. The cat purred and licked his arm. “I wonder if Mary Beth would like a cat. Bet it would be hard to find one as great as you.”

“Are you seducing my cat?” Micah sat on the couch and handed Quentin a glass of light yellow juice with no ice.

Quentin accepted the glass. “He is quite a grand cat, but I fear it’s not him I want to seduce.”

Micah’s dark eyes gleamed. He set down his juice on the plain wood coffee table. “Oh, that’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Quentin put down his glass too without a taste, squashing the cat a little as he leaned forward. When he sat back, Micah captured his chin with strong fingers and closed his mouth over Quentin’s, letting his tongue slip in hot and deep. Oh my, yes. All the little touches and innuendoes at dinner translated into an instant blaze. Quentin’s hand wrapped around Micah’s neck, holding him closer.

By rights, the cat should have squalled and jumped away from this conflagration. Instead, Quentin got a lick on his arm and a slow, slithering retreat. Apparently, they were OK with Furtwangler.

Speaking of OK. Quentin’s cock pushed so hard against his bikini panties they could bust the seams. No ball room for sure. He shifted and Micah pressed a hand against his straining erection. “I think we’d better get you out of these tight clothes.”

“That would be lovely.”

Micah stood, his cock distending the front of his dark jeans. He extended a hand to Quentin and smiled. Quentin’s skirt showed full evidence of his harder-than-nails erection.

Micah shook his head. “How do you wear women’s clothes without that big thing showing?”

“I tuck it, but tonight I didn’t wear a gaff to hold it, so it escaped.”

“Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

“It can be if I get an erection at the wrong time. But tonight I didn’t tuck too tight so my charming friend could break free as needed. Rather sexy, actually.”

“Nothing is sexy next to you. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. But I’m dying to see what the male version of you looks like.”

Quentin dropped his eyes. “I hope you won’t be disappointed.”

Micah put a finger under Quentin’s chin. “I don’t think anything about you could disappoint me.”

“I hope that’s true.” He so did.

Micah took both his hands and led Quentin out of the living room and down the hall to the room at the end. Sigh. His bedroom.

Like the rest of the house, the room was pretty simple, but the bed stretched across the room with clean white sheets and a lovely, deep blue and yellow comforter.

Micah backed himself to the edge of the bed and sat, still holding Quentin’s hands. “May I see your other self now?”

His smile was so sweet, no way Quentin could refuse. Whew. He was nervous as a cat in a rocking chair store.

He freed his hands from Micah’s and slowly unbuttoned the silk blouse. When it gaped open, he pulled it off, leaving him bare to the waist except for the padded bra. He dropped the blouse on the chair beside the bed then reached back and unfastened his bra.

When it came off, Micah’s eyes widened. “Beautiful.”

Quentin grinned. “Why? There’s not much to see.”

“Your chest is very masculine. Well-muscled but boyish. So pretty.” Micah reached up and ran his hands over Quentin’s nipples.

“Oh my.” The buds tightened in anticipation.

Micah smiled and pulled back his hands. “What’s next?”

Quentin giggled. “You’re enjoying this I think.”

“Oh my, yes, as you would say.”

“OK.” Quentin reached up and slipped his thumbs under the edge of his wig.

Micah gasped. “Wait. I thought that was your hair.”

“No. It’s just a very good wig. Shall I leave it on?”

He shook his head. “No. No, I want to see.”

Quentin glanced at him sideways. “You could be disappointed.”

“No. I want to see.”

Quentin pulled the wig off. His own hair was so light, he didn’t have to cover it to wear the wig. As the wig came off, he shook his head like a dog in the water and his curls flew around his head.

Micah smiled. “I’ll be damned. How could you be prettier with your own hair? But you are.”

Quentin’s heart beat fast. He had never done this. He was Quentin or he was Queen. He’d never gone from one to the other with someone watching. “You say the sweetest things.”

“All true. But I’m pretty anxious to see the rest.”

“It should be no surprise. You’ve seen it up close and personal, as I recall.”

“Yeah, and I’d like to be even closer now.”

Ohhh. “With pleasure.” He unfastened the waist of the skirt and pulled it off. He looked down and giggled. His cock would not be contained by the lacy thong he wore. It had pushed up until it stretched above his belly button with the lace only covering his balls. “He seems a bit over eager.”

“Sweet God, that is sexy.” Micah’s voice was breathy. He dragged down his own fly and reached in to pull out an equally swollen member, all red-headed and shiny. Quentin stared at that inviting penis. Slowly he pulled down his thong and gave an extra wiggle to his hips as he did it. Micah’s eyes widened and he pumped his cock. Oh good, the boy couldn’t wait. See how you like this, darlin’. Quentin waggled back and forth so his cock swung like a pendulum. He bent forward, picked up the skirt and panties and flipped them onto the chair with his blouse then stood with his hands at his sides. “Except for a little mascara and a touch of blush, this is pretty much me.”

Micah’s hand actively jerked his own cock and his eyes traveled over Quentin’s body. “I’ve never seen anything like you. So masculine and ladylike at the same time. So brazenly sexy and so innocent. You turn me on like a Ferrari ignition.”

Queen grinned. “Ah, but doesn’t it consume too many fossil fuels?”

Micah’s pumping got faster. “I feel like a damned fossil fuel that somebody struck a match to.”

Quentin stepped closer. “Let’s not waste that lovely erection on mere masturbation, dear.” He turned slowly and bent over, peeking between his legs at Micah.

He pushed his cock down and waggled it. “Yoo hoo.”

Micah burst out laughing, grabbed Quentin’s butt, and took a bite.

“Oooh, he’s turned cannibal.”

Micah swung Quentin by the butt onto the bed and pounced on him, driving gnawing teeth into the sensitive spot beneath Quentin’s ear.

“Ooooh.” Quentin tried to wiggle away from the chewing, sucking, licking invader when Micah grabbed his cock and started stroking it. Instant heat. Yes! Just what he wanted. “Oh yes, please, do it, do it.”

Micah rolled to the side and licked Quentin’s open, panting lips as he stroked and twisted that throbbing cock. So sweet. The boy kissed him gently as a butterfly. But his greedy hands never stopped pumping. It was like going to heaven and hell all at the same time—but who was complaining?

Micah kissed him again then pulled back. “Mind if I take a ride?”

Quentin squeaked. “On me?”

Micah kept pumping. “This thing is just so inviting. Want to fuck me?”

Quentin never topped, but this wouldn’t exactly be like topping since he’d be flat on his back. “OK.” The word came out on a long, slow breath.

Micah clambered to the bedside table and pulled out condoms and lube. He fit a rubber on Quentin’s hard-on and then matter-of-factly started pushing lube into his own hole. “Time for a little flag pole sitting.”

“Oh.” Quentin couldn’t stop squeaking.

Micah threw a leg over Quentin’s hips then rocked up onto his feet. Bull’s eye. His hole gaped on full display with lube shining and dripping around it. A little maneuvering and he had Quentin’s cock pointed right at the target.

“Wait.”

Micah looked up. “What? Change your mind?”

“Ohhh nooooo. I just want to watch. Go slow, darlin’. Go slow.”

Micah licked his lips. “With pleasure.”

Quentin could feel Micah’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t look up from where his own cock was pushed against that lovely, tight hole. And then Micah lowered. Slow as a lazy day. Oh God, watching his own penis disappear into a hot universe of delights had to be the sexiest sight on earth. “Dear God.”

“You like?”

“Hard to describe how much.”

Micah hit bottom.

“Sweet heaven, Micah, I’m all the way in you. Oh God, darlin’ it feels so amazing. Tight and hot. I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“Just that best of all possible burns.”

Quentin closed his eyes. “Oh yes, I know what you mean.”

“I’m going to fuck myself on your cock, Queen. Fuck myself into oblivion. Hang on, baby.”

Oh. My. God. Micah pulled up and Quentin saw his cock reappear, then down until it got swallowed in heat and friction so incredible he thought he’d explode from the balls out! Up and down. All he had to do was hang on, but his hips wouldn’t cooperate. They started thrusting up like a trip hammer meeting Micah’s hips on the way down.

Micah yelled. “Oh God. Oh God.” It had to be every time Quentin’s cock slammed over his prostate. And for Quentin, the flaming, searing drag of tight flesh over perfect nerves sent his brain into outer space. No, inner space. Straight into his balls. Black dots and flashes of red floated in front of his eyes and shocks of electricity shot up his spine every time the base of his cock slammed against Micah’s butt. Micah’s cock bounced like a hypnotist’s watch. It was all Quentin could focus on. Feeling, drowning in feeling. He wanted to go under. Never come back. Live in this bliss. But—

“Holy sweet God!” Micah’s cock spurted thick, hot juice onto Quentin’s belly and chest.

It felt like cool flames ripping up his shaft, into his balls, and out into every cell. His breath caught then poured out in a wail. “Yes, yes. Oh my God, yes.” Oh. His juice filled the condom in Micah’s dear ass. And the sweetness poured into his heart.

Quentin’s head fell to the side as Micah’s full weight collapsed on his chest and his fast breath hissed against Quentin’s ear. “You’re so great. How can you be so great?”

Quentin sighed. “You inspire me.”

Their hearts thumped together and gradually breathing became possible.

Quentin breathed out slowly. Then in. Out. “Sadly, I must go.”

“Wish you could stay.” Micah rolled to the side, leaving Quentin’s cock feeling cool and well-used.

“Me too, but I need to check in on Mary Beth.” He sat up slowly and removed the condom, then scooted his legs off the side of the bed. Micah grabbed a piece of tissue from the nightstand and handed it to Quentin. Quentin grinned as he wrapped the slimy latex. “Must admit, I enjoyed my experience as a top. Even though I wasn’t really on top.”

“First time?”

“First time in a long time. I love getting fucked, but this was delightful. Thank you.”

“Thank you. I’m comfortable switching. I do love to top, but this was kind of the best of both worlds.”

“It was the best. Period.” He stared at Micah for a moment. Those dark eyes sucked him deep. He sighed. Move your butt, lazy bones. He stood and carried the wrapped condom into the bathroom. After tossing it, he peed then dragged a wet washcloth over his equipment and his sticky chest. He rinsed the cloth thoroughly then went back out where Micah still lay on the bed gently sorting his pubic hair with idle fingers.

Quentin sat on the bed and washed the half-dried goop off Micah’s chest.

“Thank you.” Micah smiled and his pretty, slim face lit up like an illuminated window.

Quentin stood, took the cloth back to the sink, then walked to the chair and pulled on his panties and skirt.

“Will Mary Beth still be awake?”

“Oh yes. She’s quite the night owl, that devil. She doesn’t really need me. She’s active and capable. I probably need her more than the other way around.” He pulled on his padded bra and hooked it, then sat on the bed holding his blouse.

“But you don’t think you can tell her you’re gay?”

Quentin stared at his hands. “I think I could. She loves me so much and has always been pretty accepting. But she’s an old southern lady and has great hopes for me. I just can’t bear to disappoint her. Telling her I’m gay would just lead to…the other thing. You know, the women’s clothes. And she’s not going to be able to understand that. I keep thinking I’ll stop it. But I never do. She deserves so much better than me.”

Micah scooted beside him. “I’ll bet she loves you any way you are.”

“That is true. It’s me that wishes I was some other way for her.” He sighed and pulled on the blouse. “But I always say good night, and she would certainly be worried if I didn’t.”

Micah kissed his shoulder. “Haven’t you ever spent the night with someone?”

“When I was younger I would kiss her good night and then sneak out afterward.”

“Younger? Good God, you’re still younger.”

Quentin laughed. “I’m twenty-four and quite grown up. I have a college education and my own business, I’ll have you know, Mr. Smartypants.” He turned his head and kissed Micah’s cute slim nose then stood and went to the dresser and looked in the mirror. A bit of a wreck, but he’d have a couple minutes to freshen up when he got home.

“What kind of business?”

“Oh, quite nice actually. I’ve got a little bakery. I get to use my grandmother’s favorite recipes. The shop has only been open a few weeks, but we have lines out the door and down the block. Mary Beth is thrilled.”

He turned and smiled at Micah. The man’s face looked like stone. “What’s wrong?”

His voice sounded flat. “What’s your name? Your real name?”

“Oh. It’s Quentin. Didn’t I tell you?”

“No, you didn’t. And your business is called—“

“Charismatic Cupcakes. Don’t you think it’s a great name? Mary Beth thought of it.”

Micah just stared. “It never occurred to you to tell me what your business was when I was going on about my place?”

What was wrong with him? “I started to and then the waiter came and we changed the subject. Why is this a problem?”

Micah stood up still stark naked. “Because my best customers—people who have worked for months and years to perfect their diets and improve their health—are coming into my classes carrying cupcakes. Your cupcakes. It’s like watching them swallow poison.”

Well hell’s bells! “Poison? We use the best ingredients. My grandmother’s recipes aren’t poison.”

“Of course they are. Do you know what white sugar and flour do to the liver, the DNA? It’s worse than poison.”

Quentin stuck his hands on his hips. “And do you know what going through life without benefit of any food that’s truly pleasurable does to you? It kills you a whole lot faster than poison.”

Micah stared at him, breathing hard. “I guess we just don’t have that much in common after all.”

A rolling pin in his heart. It couldn’t have hurt more. “I guess not.”

“Glad we found out now instead of—later.”

Later, as in when Quentin’s heart could break in one hundred pieces instead of only ninety-nine? “If you say so.”

He grabbed his purse, ran to the living room, picked up his shoes and shawl, and tore out the door. On the landing, he stared at the three-inch heels. He wasn’t putting them on. He hurt enough for one night.

* * *

Ouch. Quentin hobbled into his living room. That theory about the shoes lasted halfway across Micah’s lawn when Quentin stepped on a rock and used many words inappropriate for a lady.

He threw the shoes into the hall closet and hurried to the bedroom. Mary Beth would be worried.

He stopped. Tears trickled out of both eyes and ran down his face like some damned leaky faucet over which he had no control. Micah. Why had he let himself get involved with the man? But Micah had seemed so sincere. So sweet.

Oh face it, Queen, you thought with your cock. You didn’t really know the man. One date and a couple great fucks do not a relationship make.

He flipped on the shower, ripped off his clothes, and tossed them in the back hamper. Maybe he should burn them. He stepped under the water and let it pour out on the top of his head. Could you drown in the shower? Somebody should have drowned him at birth.

He soaped, scrubbed his face, rinsed, and jumped out. Don’t think. Mary Beth is waiting. He passed some cotton soaked in nail polish remover over his manicure, then threw on some sweats and a T-shirt—more casual than his usual attire but all he could manage right now. Some flip-flops and his back-door jacket and he padded across the connecting lawn to Mary Beth’s place. Deep breath time. Do not worry her or let her know you’re upset.

He fixed a smile and opened the back door with his key. “Halllooo the house.”

The voice came from the living room as he expected. “In here, dear.”

Still plastering a smile, he walked into the living room. OK, this wasn’t what he expected. Mary Beth had somehow pushed back the coffee table and had a yoga mat spread in front of her couch. A talk show chattered on the TV while Mary Beth lay on her stomach and raised her upper body into a cobra on the mat. Not half bad either. That eighty-three year old back did some good bending. “Quite impressive.”

“Thank you, sir. The postures really help me relax and get rid of my infernal back pain.” She lowered herself until her forehead touched the mat. Her voice came out muffled. “Be right with you.” She took a deep breath then pushed up to a kneeling position. “So, how was your get together?”

Smile dammit. “Oh, fine. So you’re really getting benefit from your classes?”

“Yes, even though that teacher is a piece of work, he does know his postures.”

Of course that made him think of Dharmaram, which made him think of Micah, which made him want to bawl. “Good, that’s really good.”

“So where did you go?” She sat with one leg out and dropped her head toward her knee.

Shoot. So he had to talk about it. “To a place called Dizzy’s. They have a nice bar.”

She held her pose. “Yes, I’ve heard of it. George says he likes that place.”

“George?”

“My friend from yoga class.” With a big exhale, she sat back up.

“Oh right.”

She smiled. “Did you have a good time with your new friend?”

“It was OK. Tell me about George.”

She frowned. “Quentin, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head and tried to smile. “Nothing. We just didn’t have that much in common after all.” His voice broke just a little, so he cleared his throat to cover it. “But I enjoyed the place. I’ll have to take you there.”

She gazed at him. Didn’t miss much, that lady. “I’m so very sorry that this person didn’t turn out to be a good friend for you.”

He breathed out slowly. No tears. They could come later. “Friends are hard to make.”

“Yes, they are.”

“So, you have class tomorrow, right? I’ll drive you. I have some errands to do in the morning before I go to the store.”

“How is that new girl working out?” She started to get up, and he stood and helped her.

“Quite well. She has a perfect grasp of the taste and texture of the cupcakes. I feel very comfortable leaving the store when she’s around.”

She picked up her mat, and he pulled her coffee table back to its usual location. After she clicked the TV off, she walked toward the stairs and he followed.

She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll come to the store after my class. I want to see everyone and make sure all the recipes are working well.”

“The coconut lemon is a huge hit.”

“I thought it would be. But we need some new flavors to keep our customers coming to try new things.”

Micah’s voice rang in his ears. My customers work so hard to maintain their diet.

“I have a couple of ideas for new cupcakes.”

“Wonderful. Tell me all about them tomorrow when I’m there.”

“I will.”

She turned on the step, which put her almost eye-to-eye with him two steps lower.

“Quentin, I’ve been alive a long time. I have some friends and many acquaintances and few illusions about any of them. You are one of the finest people I know, deserving of every good thing this world has to offer. I want you to know that.”

No chance of holding back. The tears pushed out of his eyes, and he swiped at them before they could reach his cheek.

Her hand cupped his chin. “I want you to believe that.”

“Thank you.” But believing was even harder than making friends.

Chapter Five

Micah stared at the ceiling above his bed. The bed that smelled like sex and the subtle scent that was Quentin. Just another hour and he could give up on this god-awful night and try to create a better day. He was an idiot! Worse than the worst thing people said about him.

He kicked the covers and thrashed his head on the pillow. How in hell could he have done that to Quentin? How could he have blamed Quentin for having a different lifestyle than he did? How could he have let someone that kind, gentle, beautiful, and sexy go because of some idiotic pseudo-convictions he’d adopted to try and stay alive in the face of his mother’s addictions?

Yes, he believed in the benefit of organic, raw food. But he also wanted to believe in being happy. In falling in love. And if he didn’t get the organic, biodegradable stick out of his ass, he was going to lose the best thing that had ever happened to him. Quentin did it for him. No explaining it, but there it was.

He kicked again and the covers slid off the side of the bed. Furtwangler sat up and stared at him. Shit. Get up and try to repair the damage you’ve done, idiot. His feet hit the floor.

Three excruciating hours later, he approached the cupcake store. Even at nine in the morning, a small line snaked out the door. He recognized Shelly Bloom, one of his customers. Just grin and bear it. He smiled and waved as he walked up to the door. The man in line about to walk into the store looked at Micah threateningly.

“Hi, I’m not buying. Don’t worry. I just need to talk to the owner.”

The guy frowned suspiciously but let Micah pass. He scooted into the store and looked around. The smell of sugar and flour assaulted his nose and he shuddered. Still, it was a pretty place with pictures of brilliantly colored cupcakes on the walls and masses of the real things lined up in a glass case facing the front. Customers filed past and pointed to the ones they wanted as two attractive young women filled cardboard containers with multiple cupcake orders. Micah noticed the stacks of cupcake containers were prominently marked “One hundred percent recycled material. Biodegradable.” Well good.

The two women behind the counter worked briskly to meet the obvious demand. Two women, but no gorgeous man. Micah walked over so he was lined up with the door that led back into the baking area. He tried to peer in but couldn’t see much. Still, neither Quentin nor someone who looked like an older grandmother appeared to be back there. Damn, he had to find him. Who knew what the guy was thinking? Well hell, he knew what Quentin was thinking. He was thinking that Micah was an ass and an asshole. Correctomundo.

Shit. He didn’t know where Quentin and his grandmother lived and he felt pretty sure no one here was going to tell him. How could he find the man? Or the grandmother? Oh God, he didn’t want to use the phone. He really wanted to see him, face-to-face.

Wait. Grandmother. She took yoga from Dharmaram the asshole, speaking of assholes. Micah glanced at the clock on the wall. One of Dharmaram’s beginning classes was going on right now. Maybe that was why she wasn’t in the shop? What were the chances? Hell, his only chance. If he failed, he’d have to call.

He rushed out of the store, waved again at Shelly, and broke into a run. The yoga studio was only about five blocks. He glanced at his watch, stumbled a half step, then kept on running. They’d be done in about five minutes.

Breathing hard, he approached the studio. A couple of people stood in the reception area. It might mean that the class was over. He skidded to a stop and walked into the familiar building. Sure enough, students were gathering up their mats. He looked around. Damn, there were a number of older women in the group.

A cute girl walked by carrying her mat in a shoulder bag. He put out a hand. “Excuse me. Do you know a student named Mary Beth? She’d be an older lady.”

The girl grinned. “Well, I wouldn’t think of older as Mary Beth’s prime characteristic, but she’s over there talking to that tall guy.”

“Thanks.” He walked into the practice room and looked at the woman standing on her mat chatting with a handsome white-haired man. Hell, if Micah had just used his eyes he would have known her in a minute. She looked just like Quentin. Same fair hair, wide eyes, and pretty face.

He took a couple steps and stopped. Dharmaram stood at the front of the class presumably talking to a couple students but actually staring over their heads at Micah.

The nasty smile on his face gave Micah the willies.

Micah breathed deeply and slowly. OK, he really wanted this lady to like him.

Maybe then she’d tell him how to find Quentin. But he had to be careful. Just appear as a friend. Not look too desperate. After all, she thought her grandson was straight.

He approached her slowly with a smile. She glanced his way. “Excuse me ma’am. May I speak with you for a second?”

“Of course.” She looked up at the tall man. “I’ll see you Thursday.” The man nodded with a soft smile, gathered his things, and walked away after a questioning glance at Micah.

She turned to Micah. “How can I help you?”

“Uh, ma’am, my name is Micah Truveen. I’ve heard so much about you. You see I’m a friend of—”

“Of mine.” A slim hand grasped Micah’s shoulder, and he looked up into Dharmaram’s handsome, lying face. “Micah is a great friend of mine, Mary Beth. And, of course, I tell him such great things about all my students.”

Micah pulled on his shoulder trying to loosen Dharmaram’s hand, but his fingers tightened. Dharmaram stared at him intently with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m so glad you came by, dear. I was wanting to speak with you.”

Micah managed to pull free from the tight grip. “I want to talk to Mary Beth.”

Dharmaram’s gaze got very intent and Micah shivered. “I think you’d better talk to me before you do anything else.”

Shit. That didn’t sound good.

Mary Beth stepped a little closer and frowned at Dharmaram. “Would you like me to wait for you, Micah? Or better yet, I’m going over to Charismatic Cupcakes when I leave here. Why don’t you come see me there? In fact, my grandson, Quentin, will be there as well. I assume you know him, am I right?”

Micah nodded. Dharmaram’s fingers dug into his arm. “Thank you. I’ll talk to Dharmaram and be right along, OK?”

She grinned. “How about I don’t tell Quentin you’re coming? Then it will be a lovely surprise.”

Micah cocked his head. How much did she know? What had Quentin told her? “OK. Great.”

She gathered her stuff, and he turned to Dharmaram. The man put a hand on Micah’s shoulder again and he shrugged it off. “So what the hell do you want?”

“I need a place to live.”

Micah narrowed his eyes. “I’m no boarding house. What does this have to do with me?”

“I want to come back and live with you. Just like before.”

“You’ve been smelling too much incense, asshole.” He turned and started walking toward the door. Whoa. Stopped dead by a grab on his arm.

Dharmaram stepped up close behind Micah. “I think you now have someone to protect, don’t you? And if you want to protect this someone, it pays to keep me happy.”

Holy shit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dharmaram turned Micah to face him. He didn’t resist. “I have a good eye for beauty as you know.” He ran a finger along Micah’s jaw. Forget it. He pulled his head away. “And I have discovered that the handsome grandson of one of my most upstanding students, Mrs. Mary Beth Darby, has been known to go about cavorting in women’s clothes with one sexy gay man. Intentions? Dishonorable.”

Jesus, his belly hurt. But he didn’t want this asshole to know how shaken he was.

“So what?”

“So, I suspect that the upstanding lady in question is quite unaware of her grandson’s cavorting. I further suspect that she would be shocked and horrified to learn of this and would probably disown the little fucker.”

Surely she wouldn’t. But Quentin had never told her. Micah couldn’t let her find out this way. Hearing the truth from Dharmaram would be pretty awful. “So what do you want?”

“Very simple. Just the room and board you provided previously. My current meal ticket is getting complaints from her children about what she’s spending on me, plus we all know I don’t really like girls.”

Micah clenched his fists. “So that’s what I was? Your meal ticket?”

“Of course not, dear. I loved fucking that adorable, rock-hard ass. And that reminds me. Whatever are you doing with that silly drag queen, for God’s sake? Pretty as he is.”

“None of your business.”

Dharmaram’s eyes narrowed. “See that it stays not my business. What time shall I be at your house with my stuff?”

Oh God, Micah wanted to hit him. “Seven o’clock.” He walked away thinking about the cupcake shop he wouldn’t visit, the beautiful man to whom he would never apologize, and the day that was now crappier than the night before.

* * *

Quentin pulled a last batch of the spring flower cupcakes from the oven. He had to buck up. It was silly to let a man he barely knew take the joy from his life. He needed to put on his big boy panties, retire Queen to the back of the closet, and focus on his business. If only his heart didn’t feel like a mile of bad road.

Next to him at the counter, Mary Beth kept looking at the clock. He smiled at her.

“Do you have a hot date I don’t know about, ma’am?”

“Dear, do you know a young man named Micah?”

He froze. OK, he should just breathe. “Uh, yes. He’s the person I had a drink with last night. Why? How do you know his name?”

“He came by the yoga class today.”

What? “He did?”

“Yes. He introduced himself to me, and I think he was going to tell me something, but then my teacher interrupted and started talking to him. I told him to come by the shop, but he hasn’t come as far as I can tell.”

The bad road just got a whole new pothole. He shook his head slowly and put the cupcake pan on the cooling rack. “He won’t come here. He’s a real health food nut. He doesn’t approve of all our sugar and flour.”

She shrugged. “He certainly seemed anxious to talk to me.”

“Hmm. Strange. But I guess he and Dharmaram used to have a relationship so maybe they’re still friends.”

“Maybe. But he surely didn’t seem very happy to see Dharmaram.”

Quentin shrugged. “I don’t think he’s happy about much.”

Maybe he should try to talk to Micah?

No. A foolish idea.

* * *

Micah stood on the porch and held the door while Dharmaram carried in his suitcases and a couple cardboard boxes from the back of his car. Micah wished he was headed the opposite way and the door was hitting the guy in the ass as he left.

Maybe this was a crappy idea. Hell, he knew it was crappy to let Dharmaram anywhere near him, but maybe he shouldn’t be trying to protect Quentin. He had no certainty that Dharmaram wouldn’t just tell Mary Beth anyway. Of course, the guy knew he’d lose his meal ticket in two seconds flat if he did that.

Micah pointed to the extra room down the hall. “Put your shit in the guest room.”

Dharmaram stopped. “Guest room? I said I wanted to come back to you just the way we were.”

“Don’t push your luck, asshole. You’re fortunate I even let you in my house.”

Dharmaram put down the suitcase and walked closer to Micah where he stood at the open door. “Aww baby, don’t be that way. I’ll show you I’ve changed. I’ll be a real steady boyfriend.”

“Keep your hands off me.” Micah stepped out onto the porch. “Boyfriend? You’re not even a friend-friend—” He heard tires on the asphalt and looked up. Shit, the car. The car that had followed him on what he now thought of as the best night of his life. The car from which he saw a set of wide eyes staring from a pale face surrounded by a halo of wild curls.

Oh no, God. Micah looked at Dharmaram still standing in the doorway. What did Quentin see? What did he think? “Shit! Quentin!” He took off across the lawn as the new German car sped up and tore down the residential road. He almost caught it at the stoplight, but he missed the bumper as the car rolled through the intersection and disappeared down the hill toward the Pacific Coast Highway. Micah stopped, gasping for air. Had Quentin seen him and refused to stop or did he just speed away after he saw—oh God—after he saw Dharmaram standing in the doorway with Micah? Oh no. How did that look?

Staggering a little, he walked to the curb and sat. Crap. He wanted it both ways. He wanted to protect Quentin from the asshole, but he couldn’t stand for Quentin to think that he didn’t want him.

He dropped his head in his hands. He did want Quentin. He did. He did. What a fool. To get mad at the man for making people happy. For commemorating his grandmother. God, he wanted to talk to Quentin. To explain. To apologize.

He took a deep breath. But this was for the best. Wasn’t it? If Micah didn’t see Quentin anymore, Dharmaram would forget the whole thing and eventually Micah could toss him out.

Couldn’t he?

He got up slowly and walked back to the house. Inside the entry, he could see Dharmaram sitting in the living room with his feet on the coffee table drinking a beer and watching television. Funny how that sight used to make Micah feel at home.

Dharmaram looked up. “What happened to you?”

Good question. “Nothing. Good night.”

He grabbed his cat, brushed his teeth, and went to bed. Right now, staring at the ceiling was better than staring at Dharmaram. This situation was truly fucked up. He didn’t have to do this. He had choices. But all of them seemed to lead to Quentin being outed. He could talk to Quentin, ask him what to do.

Micah flipped and pounded the pillow. If he did that, Quentin would definitely step up to the plate and tell his grandmother he was gay. That could be good. Maybe even for the best, but Micah didn’t want to force Quentin to make that decision. He needed to come to it on his own with no coercion from the Downward Dog. Shit. He tucked Furtwangler against his chest and settled down expecting no sleep.

Chapter Six

A tear slid down Quentin’s cheek and he stepped back so it didn’t fall into the cupcake batter. He squished the almond butter mixture through his fingers. Just that fast, Micah had gone back to his former boyfriend. Yes, and forgotten about Quentin.

Hell’s bells, what had he expected? That a handsome, together guy like Micah would want a weirdo like him? And what had he been thinking anyway? What if Micah had wanted him? How could he have made that work with Mary Beth? Tell her he was gay? Jesus, the thought took his breath away.

He pulled his hands from the batter and rinsed them under the sink, then walked a couple steps and looked out the back window. What if he told her? She’d love him still, he was sure of it. But it would change their relationship. Could he bear that? He wouldn’t tell her about the cross-dressing. He could stop that. He knew he could.

He blew out a long breath. Of course, with Micah out of the picture, why should he rock the boat by confessing?

Another tear pushed its way out. Maybe if he ’fessed up to being gay he could find someone to love who loved him back. One more tear formed a little river. He sadly feared he’d already found someone he could love. The loving back was the problem.

“Quentin.”

Mary Beth’s voice came from the front. He wiped his sleeve across his wet cheeks, walked back to the counter, and dug his hands in the mixture of nuts and nut butter. “In here, dear.”

He heard her behind him. “Yes, I do agree that Samantha is doing the best job. Excellent choice, Quentin.”

“Thank you. I think so too.” He added vanilla.

“Ooh, is that a new recipe?”

He kept his face turned away from her. He always got so pink when he cried.

“Sort of. I thought I’d try it and see if I can make it work.”

“What’s the flavor?”

“It will be vanilla with lime icing.”

“Oh that sounds divine.” She stood beside him and watched as he added agave nectar.

“What’s that?”

“A natural sweetener.”

“Oh.” She stayed quiet, then… “Quentin?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Where’s the flour?”

“There is none. This cupcake is raw.”

“Raw?”

“Yes. It’s a raw food cupcake.” He took a deep breath. Hope my face is OK. He turned toward her with sticky hands. “Remember I told you about the people who have been coming in who are trying to stay on healthy food diets and being tempted away by our cupcakes.”

She grinned. “Ah yes. The power of a Charismatic Cupcake.”

“Well, I wondered if we could make something delicious that wasn’t cooked. They could stay on their raw food diet and still have something yummy.”

She clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful! How very California of you.”

He nodded and started fitting the mixture into the cupcake tins. “Want to help me make the icing? It includes avocado.”

“I’ll watch.”

He walked to the refrigerator and removed several avocadoes. The cool air felt good on his still warm face.

“Quentin.”

“Hmmm?”

“Does this have something to do with your friend? The one who came to see me?”

He swallowed and carried the ingredients to the counter. “Indirectly. He pointed out the problem to me.” OK, stay calm. “Of course, that was a source of disagreement between us. And while I might create a special raw cupcake, I’m not going to be converting entirely to vegan food. After all, how could the world survive without cream cheese?” His laugh sounded pretty phony. “I’m afraid cupcakes will never be acceptable to Micah. He’s pretty fanatical.”

“He seemed so nice.” Her voice was soft.

His throat felt like someone stuffed a whole avocado down it. “He is nice.”

“Then why can’t you be friends?” Why was she being like this? She never pushed him.

“He doesn’t want to be, dear. He pointed out how little we had in common.”

“But he came to see me.”

“He didn’t come to see you. He came to see Dharmaram.”

“But he seemed so anxious to talk to me. Not to Dharmaram.”

Enough! He turned to her. “Dharmaram is his boyfriend, Mary Beth. He’s gay. He came to see his gay boyfriend. Not you. Not me. This is not South Carolina where gay men pretend they’re ‘just not the marrying kind.’ You have to get used to that, dear. We both have to get used to that.” Heat pressed behind his eyes. Total hell, a tear escaped and he slapped a hand at his cheek. “Excuse me, I have to go to the men’s room.”

He hurried down the hall and slid into the small employee restroom, trying to close the door softly. He wanted to slam it. If he beat the mirror with his shoe, was there a chance anyone would believe it was an accident? He couldn’t do this. Back home, he knew what his life was about. Pretense. Here? Everyone went around being themselves so much it was frightening. Maybe he just didn’t belong here.

He stared in the mirror at his girlie face. OK, get it together. He wasn’t here for himself, he was here for Mary Beth. He had something to live for. Her. While she was here, this was home. He didn’t need anything else. He washed his hands and walked back into the kitchen.

Mary Beth looked up with a sweet smile. “I believe I have this frosting recipe conquered.”

Not a word about his meltdown. Oh yes, they both did South Carolina so well.

* * *

Micah dragged himself through the kitchen and covered one more pot of homemade soup to put in the refrigerator. This day was eternal and awful, but he didn’t want it to end. When it ended, he had to go home. Home. What a fucking joke. He felt like a stranger in his own house. Dharmaram had been there five days and it felt like five years. And his time without Quentin? That felt like five centuries.

“Hey. You look lower than Michael Phelps’s resting heart rate. What’s going on?” Kathy peered over his shoulder from behind.

“Yeah. I let Dharmaram move back in.” He cringed. He’s been avoiding telling her because he knew—

“You what? Jesus Fucking Christ!”

Yep, that’s what he knew. He sighed.

“Why would you do such a dumb thing?”

“Long story.” He put another pot in the refrigerator and washed the lentils off his hands.

She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “I’ve got about three minutes until I have to meet Dorrie, so condense.”

“He’s blackmailing me.”

“What?”

“I met this guy I really like who isn’t out to his grandmother. Grandma turns out to be a student of Dharmaram’s and through a series of unfortunate events, the asshole knows about the grandson. He threatens to tell unless I let him live with me.”

“That lower-than-dirt, genuine grade A rat.”

“Yeah.”

“So who is this guy? Do I know him?”

“No. Quentin Darby. He owns the cupcake store everyone’s talking about.”

She laughed—hard.

Micah frowned. “What? I know it’s weird, but he’s a really nice guy.”

She shook her head and managed to stop laughing. “That explains a lot.”

“What?”

“Come with me.”

She led him out of the kitchen to the serving window. “Look.”

Micah leaned out and observed the few remaining customers still on the patio under the heaters. One group of four sat at the table around the big tree and every one of them was eating a cupcake. But they looked different. “Uh, excuse me.”

One of the guys, not a regular, looked up. “Yes?”

“Can you tell me what you’re eating?”

“Sure. It’s this really cool vanilla cupcake with lime frosting. And believe it or not it’s completely raw.”

Micah’s mouth opened. “No shit?”

The guy laughed. “No shit.”

Kathy put a hand on his shoulder. “People have been coming in all day eating cupcakes and a bunch of them had those raw ones. You must have had a big impact.”

Micah stepped back from the window and felt tears pushing behind his eyes.

Kathy frowned. “Why does that upset you?”

“I gave him such a hard time about the regular cupcakes. Blamed him for leading my customers astray. Told him we had, oh shit, nothing in common.”

“So you’re trying to make it up to him by taking in Dharmaram?”

Micah shook his head. “No. I didn’t tell Quentin about the blackmail. He saw me with Dharmaram at my house. Hell, I don’t even know what he thinks. It’s got to be awful. But if I tell Quentin about Dharmaram’s blackmail, it’ll force his hand and make him come out to his grandmother. He may not be ready to.”

“Hey buddy, he went to a lot of trouble to make those cupcakes. He must really like you even though you were an idiot to him.”

“I was, wasn’t I?”

“Yep. But I get that his coming out is a big decision. I just can’t stand to see you so low.”

“Yeah I know. I have to do some thinking, fast.”

“So, quit stalling and go think.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

“Always a pleasure.”

He gathered his stuff and pedaled home. Dharmaram sat on the couch in front of the TV drinking beer as usual. Micah ignored him, scooped up Furtwangler, and walked straight to his bedroom.

He put the cat on the bed and changed into a pair of sweats. Furtwangler watched intently. Micah sat opposite him. “OK buddy, wise old cat time. I’m tired. Tired of not sleeping. Tired of living with someone I don’t like. Tired of, well to be honest, tired of not having Queen. I miss him. I don’t know if we’re meant to be a couple, but I’m sure as hell not going to find out this way. I want to protect Queen from fuckface out there, but this doesn’t feel like the right way to go about it. What should I do?”

“Merwaor.”

“Yeah. I think so too. I’ll sleep on it, and as soon as I open my eyes, I’ll know what course of action to take, right?”

“Merwaor.”

“OK. Let’s turn in, watch a little TV, and wait for the final answer.”

He took off his sweats, pulled back the covers, and crawled under. He grabbed the remote for the bedroom TV and turned on a cop show. Cop shows bored him and were guaranteed to put him to sleep fast. Furtwangler padded across the comforter and snuggled against Micah’s side.

Micah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He petted the slightly rough, old coat of fur and got an appreciative purr. Ancient cat wisdom. There was nothing quite like it. His eyes closed.

* * *

The infomercial chatted through his consciousness. A juicer guaranteed to keep all the vitamins in. Fat chance.

What? What was that? Jesus!

Micah threw off the covers and bounded a foot off the bed. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Dharmaram sat up, which brought his highly erect cock into a full upright position.

“Fuck is the operative word, darling. I’m horny.”

“Ask me if I care. Get out of my bed now. Room and board does not include that board.” He pointed at Dharmaram’s stiffy. “Now get it out of here.”

“I can te-elllll.”

Micah’s hands on his hips probably looked pretty funny since he was stark naked.

“If you’re going to tell, tell. I told you I’d give you a place to stay for a while. No other benefits go with that arrangement.”

“You used to love me to fuck you.” Dharmaram stuck out a pouty lip.

“No I didn’t. I just said I did.” Micah stared at the handsome man who he’d once thought he’d loved. Hell, next to Quentin, this guy was a joke. But not a funny one. And Micah had compromised himself and his life by having Dharmaram around. Quentin wouldn’t want that. Micah was sure. “Get out.”

“What? No. I’ll go straight to grandma.”

“Do what you need to do. I need you to get out.” He balled his hands into fists. “Don’t force me to make you leave.”

Dharmaram’s eyes widened. The guy was six feet tall but still a coward. “Come on, Micah. Why wreck a guy’s life if you don’t have to?”

His breath caught. Was he doing that? Wrecking Quentin’s life? No, he wouldn’t listen. “It’s you who has the choice. You’re supposed to be this big, balanced person. That’s a joke. You’re a user who never got his life together. You’re a good teacher, Dharmaram. Grow up.”

“You uptight, self-righteous prig.”

Micah nodded. “Yeah, well I’m working on that.” He took a step forward. “Get out. And this time for good.”

“Shit.” Dharmaram turned and walked out of the bedroom.

“Merwaor.”

Micah turned to the old cat still sitting in the piles of covers. “Thanks buddy. We said I’d know what to do as soon as I woke up. You must have made me smarter overnight.”

But now he had to live with the consequences of his actions. He pulled on his underwear, jeans, and socks, threw a sweatshirt over his head, and walked into the guest room where Dharmaram sat on the edge of the bed dressed in yoga clothes staring at his suitcase. Crap, it almost made Micah sad. Almost. “Do you need me to help you?”

For a second, Dharmaram’s face looked lost. Then he scowled. “I don’t need anything from you, loser. I’m leaving and going to the studio. The second Mary Beth comes in, she gets the earful. Stick my stuff outside.”

“With pleasure. Give me the key.” Micah wiggled his fingers. Dharmaram fished in the pocket of his gym pants and pulled it out.

“All the locks will be changed tomorrow, so don’t bother using whatever copies you made.”

“Screw you.”

And for the second time in less than two weeks, Dharmaram left the building.

Micah ran to the kitchen, put out some cat food for Furtwangler, and gave the cat a quick pet. “Wish me luck, buddy. Hopefully, I didn’t just screw up two lives.”

He hurried to the garage. No bicycle today. With a ping and whirr, he turned on the Volt, backed out, and sped to the parking garage on Glenneyre. From there, he ran to the cupcake shop.

Gasping for breath, he stopped outside the store. Locked. Of course. It was only eight thirty in the morning. At least Dharmaram’s class didn’t start until nine. If only Quentin would come here to the shop right after he dropped off his grandmother. Or maybe even before. Oh God. What if he went in and Dharmaram confronted them together? No warning. Just a smack in the face. Maybe he should run to the yoga studio? He took two steps down the pavement—

“Micah?”

He turned back to see that beautiful face. A beautiful face and body—dressed in men’s clothes. He’d seen Quentin as Queen. He’d seen Quentin naked. But this was the first time seeing him as a man.

“Wow.”

Of course, that masculine image was slightly compromised by the fact that Quentin wore an apron over his jeans and T-shirt. An apron covered in flour and dough. Micah wanted to lick it off. The first processed food he’d had in years.

Quentin wiped his hands. “What did you want?”

His eyes wouldn’t focus. He just wanted to keep staring at that loveliness.

“Maybe I could get one of your raw cupcakes?”

“You came here before opening for a cupcake?”

Micah shook his head. “No. I have something to tell you. Something pretty awful.”

Quentin frowned. “Something more awful than you going back to your yoga teacher a few hours after we had sex?”

Micah breathed out hard. “It’s related to that. Where can we talk?”

“There are people baking in the kitchen. You know, baking that poison I make and force on people?” He stood very upright.

“I’m truly sorry for that. Just, please, let me tell you what’s happened.”

“OK.” Quentin stepped aside and pointed to the back. Micah walked into the shop, assailed again by the sweetest of smells. No second sweetest, after Quentin.

Quentin walked through the door that led to the kitchen and Micah followed. He turned right and stepped into a small office with a desk, computer, and a filing cabinet. Quentin pointed to a straight-back chair across from the desk. He took the desk chair. “So what did you want to tell me?”

Whew. Face-to-face, this was tough duty. His heart beat so hard he could feel it in his toes. “I, uh, I really care about you.”

Who knew Quentin’s face could get that angry. “You sure have a unique way of showing it, sugah.”

“Wait. I’ve done a bunch of dumb things, and I’m not sure which is dumbest. First, I did that whole priggish song and dance about the cupcakes being poison when I should have been telling you how much I admire you and appreciate how you take care of your grandmother. And I really want to know why you created those raw cupcakes—” he held up a hand “—but first I have to tell you about my other idiot moves. The reason you saw me with Dharmaram is because he was blackmailing me. He figured out that the beautiful woman he saw me with is the grandson of his most proper southern lady student, and he threatened to tell Mary Beth about you if I didn’t take him back in. What you saw was him moving his stuff into my guest room. That’s guest room.”

Quentin’s mouth literally hung open. “But why did you do that? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Micah shrugged. “I knew if I told you, you’d immediately come out to your grandmother, and I didn’t want to force you to do something you didn’t want to do.”

“So you’ve been hosting that snake in the grass on account of me?” The blue eyes widened to saucer expanse.

Micah shifted in the chair. “I was. But that’s why I ran here so fast this morning. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I woke up this morning and he was climbing in bed with me. I threw him out again.”

“Good.”

“Not good, because he’s going to go straight to Mary Beth and—”

“Who’s going straight to me, darling?”

The soft southern voice came around the partly closed door followed by a curly head and blue eyes that sparkled just like her grandson’s.

He would have smiled but fear seemed to have frozen him solid. What could they say? All he could do was follow Quentin’s lead.

Mary Beth moved gracefully into the little room. She wore jeans and a frilly white blouse that created a perfect contrast of old and new worlds. She stuck out her hand. “So you’re Micah, am I right? We didn’t get to meet properly on that day at the studio.”

He shook her soft, small hand. “Yes ma’am, I am.”

Quentin stepped over and kissed her cheek. “I thought you had yoga class this morning, dear.”

“No. George and I are switching to Pilates for a while until we find an instructor with better ethics.”

Quentin flushed. “Did he offend you in some way?”

“Not at all. I just find him a bit of a shady character.”

Micah forced a laugh. “You have that right. I’m sure you can find someone who is as good a teacher but a better person.” Whew. Maybe that meant she wouldn’t hear about Quentin. The day was looking up.

She smiled. “So what are you two planning?”

Quentin glanced at Micah. “Oh, uh, nothing. Micah, uh, just wanted a raw cupcake.”

She beamed. “Good. I’ll get you a box. I was thinking perhaps we can work out a distribution deal with you. You can offer the raw cupcakes at your restaurant. Then your customers won’t be so enticed by our sugar and flour.”

Micah really laughed this time. “Quentin told me you were a sharp businesswoman. I see he was right.”

She put a hand on Quentin’s arm. “Oh, he’s far beyond me in so many ways. I’m very proud of him.”

Moisture glistened in Quentin’s eyes. “I’ll never be half the entrepreneur you are, NeeNee.”

“Nonsense. Plus, you’re far more creative.” She took a step toward the door. “I’ll get those cupcakes. I can’t tell you how happy I am to finally get to meet Quentin’s boyfriend. I knew you would choose well, dear.” And she walked out of the room.

Pins dropping.

Quentin stared at Micah, his mouth working a little. Micah didn’t move. He’d been turned to stone.

Quentin shook his head like a swimmer coming out of deep water. “She didn’t mean that,” he whispered. “Just friends, as in boys who are friends.”

Micah leaned toward Quentin and hissed, “I don’t think so—”

Her voice preceded her. “Thank you dear, these look divine.” Mary Beth walked back in the door carrying a pink cardboard box. “Oh my, the girls have included some of the new date and nut recipe.” She handed the box to Micah. “We’re having a grand time proving that raw food can actually taste good.”

“I, uh, always tell people that.”

She beamed at him.

Silence. Well hell, who was going to address the boyfriend elephant in the room? Quentin stared into space and Mary Beth just smiled. Shit!

“Ma’am, uh, you referred to me as Quentin’s boyfriend—”

Quentin put a finger on Micah’s arm. “Shh.”

He covered Quentin’s finger with his hand. “No shh.” He looked back at Mary Beth. “Can you tell me what you meant?”

She smiled. “Well dear, where I come from a boyfriend is someone who comes to call and pays attention and steals kisses in dark corners and maybe more if the opportunity arises.”

Micah swallowed. He didn’t even look at Quentin. “And, uh, you think that’s what Quentin and I do?”

“I think life is a lot harder for gay men than it is for women nowadays, but I sure hope you do.”

Quentin’s voice sounded serious. “You never told me you knew I was gay.”

She sighed and looked up at him. “I know. And I’m truly sorry. You know how good we are at pretending in the south. You didn’t seem to want to deal with it, and I just got into the habit of letting you be the way you wanted. I’ve known you were gay since you were twelve, dear. Maybe younger.”

Quentin’s breathing seemed rapid. “Did you move to California because it’s hard being gay in South Carolina?”

“I’m sure it’s hard being gay everywhere, dear. And I wanted to move to Laguna Beach for both of us. But yes. I wanted you to have a better life. And most of all, I always hoped you’d find a young man who was so special to you that you’d finally be moved to bring him home and tell me you’re gay. But you never did. Until now.”

Quentin frowned. “Micah’s not my boyfriend.”

Micah’s heart thunked. Mary Beth put a hand on his arm as if to steady him.

“Don’t be silly. Of course he is.”

“He said we have nothing in common.”

She put her hand on Micah’s shoulder. “And I’m sure he’s very sorry he said such a silly thing when it’s clear you were made for each other.”

They were? Micah cocked his head. “I thought we were opposites. Quentin is this gentile, well-educated, gorgeous, talented guy, and I’m a skinny, rigid, control-freak from a dysfunctional upbringing.”

Quentin stepped over to him and put both hands on his hips. The Queen was on deck. “You are not. You’re incredibly accommodating and generous. Look what you did for me with that awful Dharmaram and how you sacrifice for your customers and for whales and trees. And how your cat loves you. And you’re so handsome and smart.”

Mary Beth smiled. “There, you see. Made for each other. Now, why don’t both of you take the day off and figure out this whole boyfriend thing. I’m sure your staff can do without you, Micah. I’ve always found them to be very professional when I come by.”

“You come to The Place?”

“Everyone in Laguna does, dear. Now, off with you and have a relaxed day. Eat some cupcakes, drink a little champagne. Maybe more than a little. And have some good hot sex.”

Quentin’s hand flew to his face. “NeeNee!”

“Oh, did I forget to mention? That’s another thing boyfriends do.” Her laugh followed her as she left the room.

Micah took a deep breath and it came back out as a laugh. He took two steps across the room, grabbed Quentin’s head, and pressed his lips against the other man’s mouth that was still hanging open. He kissed hard then pulled back. “Did we just get a lesson in how fear blows everything out of proportion?”

“No, I think it was a lesson in not underestimating one’s grandmother.”

Micah nuzzled that sweet neck. “Want to take her advice? Cupcakes, champagne, and clean white sheets?”

Quentin pulled off the apron. Man he looked great in jeans. All lean hips and slim, muscled chest. “I’m not sure I can breathe.”

Micah kissed him again.

When he pulled away, Quentin grinned. “My place or yours?”

Micah gazed at him. “Actually, I have something I want to do first. C’mon.”

He took Quentin’s hand and walked out into the busy shop. Several of his regular customers were in the line that snaked out the door.

Annie, his early morning wheat grass customer, waved and smiled a little sheepishly. “Hi, Micah. I came for raw cupcakes.”

He laughed. “Yes. I have my own right here.” He held up the box. “Say, Annie, have you met Quentin?”

“Sure. Hi, Q.”

Micah looked at the pretty guy beside him. “Q?”

Quentin nodded and smiled shyly. “Some of the customers christened me Q. I think it’s from the movies. They say I come up with great inventions.”

“Hey, I like that.” He raised Quentin’s hand to his mouth and kissed the backs of his fingers.

Quentin’s eyes widened and he looked around quickly at the stares of the interested customers.

Micah nodded toward Quentin. “Q’s my boyfriend, Annie.”

“I gathered that. Congratulations you two. I think if you guys can get along it must portend well for relations in the Middle East. The peace treaty between wheat grass and white flour.”

Micah chuckled and looked at Quentin, whose eyes still resembled the fabled deer-in-the-headlights. “Come on. Our adventures have just begun.” He took a bag from the counter, slipped the cupcake box in it, put it over his arm, and grabbed Quentin’s hand again. He led the way out into the bright February sunshine.

“Where are we going?”

“I’ll show you.” He walked, holding hands, down the sidewalk beside the busy Pacific Coast Highway. A few people stared at their clasped hands. Quentin kind of ducked his head at the glances, but Micah held tight. They reached a side street that led down to the beach. He turned toward the water and bounced down the steps to the sand.

Quentin hurried after him. “Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Micah sat and took off his shoes and socks. Quentin followed suit. They tucked their shoes over beside the stairs and walked barefoot out onto the cool, rough sand. Micah extended his hand again and Quentin took it.

The surf pounded against the beach while gulls screamed and sandpipers chased the sparkling water as it ebbed and flowed. Though Laguna Beach was made up mostly of hundreds of small inlets, this part of the coastline was wide and expansive.

Ahead a number of men stood or sat on the sand. A couple wore bathing suits, but the cold water in February discouraged much swimming. One of the men looked up and waved at Micah.

“Hi, Yancy.” They walked up to Micah’s friend and his companions.

“Hey baby. How’s it hanging?”

“Good. I think you know Quentin, don’t you?”

Yancy cocked his head. “Well, I’ll be damned. Hi, Queen.”

Quentin still looked a little shell-shocked, but he extended his hand. “Hi. Good to see you again.”

Yancy grinned. “You’re just as pretty when you’re not in drag. Meet the guys.” He introduced Quentin and Micah to several men, a couple of whom had been at the party.

Micah smiled at Quentin. “I’m just introducing him to the gay beach.”

Quentin looked around. “Oh.”

Yancy nudged Micah. “Hey, are you two an item?”

He got a big grin at that one. “We’re working on that.”

“Look Ma, I’m a matchmaker. Son of a bitch, congrats you two. Finally, you’re with someone I approve of. Anti-Valentine’s has worked its magic.”

Quentin cocked his head. “I thought anti-Valentine’s was supposed to make us happy to be single.”

“Is anybody completely happy being single? A lot of guys have hooked up, sometimes permanently, at my party.”

Micah laughed. “You’re a fraud as a cynic.”

“We’re all under the spell of l’amour, my friend.” He held out his hand to a good-looking bear of a guy beside him. “This is Chuck.”

Quentin smiled. “So maybe next year we’ll have a real Valentine’s party.”

“Could be.”

Micah stepped forward. “So good to see you all. I’m taking Quentin on his official coming-out route through Laguna.” He waved and took Quentin’s arm and started walking back toward the steps and their shoes.

Quentin laughed. “I see. You want to make me more at home in my own skin.”

“And such pretty skin it is.” Micah stopped and faced his companion. “I really would like to take your grandmother’s advice.”

“About the sex?”

“About the boyfriend. Can I be your boyfriend, Q?”

He smiled softly. “You told Annie I was.”

“I was just dreaming.”

“I’m nobody’s dream.”

Micah put his hands on either side of Quentin’s face. “Yes, you are. Best one I ever had, I think.” Oh yes, he was dying to taste. He pressed his lips against Quentin’s and pulled him close. For a second, he felt the man stiffen. After all, they were in the middle of a public beach. Then the slim body softened. All but one part. Whew. About those sheets.

He pulled back and whispered in Quentin’s ear. “I could use some of that hard thing in my mouth.”

Q shuddered. “Oh my, yes. I figured I’d never have you again. I about died at the thought.”

“I think we need to get home.”

“Which home?”

“Let’s go to mine so Furtwangler can share the experience.”

“Kinky feline.” Quentin kissed Micah’s nose. “But I would like to show you where I live sometime.”

“I’d love that. We can bring the wise cat to meet Mary Beth.”

“Oh, I warn you. You might not get him back.”

“It’s OK. It takes a village to appreciate all the great stuff about that cat.”

He grabbed his shoes and the cupcake box, handed Quentin his sneakers, and they both hurried up the steps. At the top he turned. “I have my car. I was in a big hurry to get to you.”

Quentin smiled that gentle turn of full lips. “I hope you always will be.”

“Shall we each take our own vehicles and meet at my place? We have a better chance of not wrecking the car that way.”

“You’re on!”

They took off running in two directions. Micah flew across PCH, the cupcakes banging in the pink box, and unlocked the door to the car from a football field away. He dove in, sped out of the garage, and down Glenneyre to his turnoff. As he navigated the corner, he saw Quentin’s fancy car about three blocks back.

Micah pulled into the garage, closed it, and opened the door to the house.

“Merwaowr.”

“Hi buddy. We have company. You’re going to love it!”

He raced to the bedroom, lit a candle, smoothed the sheets, and hurried out to the front door just as the knock sounded. With a yank, the door was open and another yank brought Quentin through the door and into Micah’s arms.

“Welcome.” He planted a kiss that started out to be playful—uh, yeah. Hot. Micah’s lips softened and opened wide as Quentin melted in his arms.

Micah toed the door closed and kept kissing as he backed up. Must get to bedroom.

Bang. Entry table bumped. Thud. Wall into hall scraped. But his tongue knew home when it found it.

He hit the hall wall with his back, still holding Quentin tight against his chest. When their forward motion ceased, Quentin snaked his leg up over Micah’s hip. Oh yeah! Cock to cock. But too much denim.

Micah slipped a hand under Quentin’s leg and lifted. The guy got the idea. He gave a little leap and suddenly Micah’s arms were full of a wriggling, humping Quentin. With his arms locked around Micah’s neck, he rode Micah’s hard-as-pipe cock like his own hobby horse.

Wow. Flashes of heat scrambled Micah’s brain, but he struggled to move toward the bedroom. His sight was blocked by a pretty face, so he moved by feel until he got to the door. Three steps inside and he lowered his happy burden to the bed. “Too many clothes!”

He pulled off Quentin’s very fashionable sneakers then worked at getting a reluctant zipper down over an enthusiastic bulge.

Quentin laughed. “Let me. You manage your over-dressed self.”

Micah tried to toe off his sneakers and pull down his jeans without ever taking his eyes off the soft, pale skin emerging from behind Quentin’s oxford shirt. Micah’s hands stilled on his T-shirt as Q removed his jeans to reveal a red lace thong with a lovely cockhead peeking over its top.

“You devil.”

“In angel’s clothing, sugah.” He snapped the side of the thong against his slim hip.

Micah smiled. The guy was such a combo of angel and devil. He ripped the T-shirt off and crawled onto the bed toward Quentin, eyes fixed on his prize. As he drew near, he stuck out his tongue. “Comin’ to get you.”

Quentin giggled as Micah pounced and slurped that pretty red-headed dick out of its lacy décor and right down his throat.

“Sweet God, sugah!”

Micah sucked and licked in combo then pressed his tongue into Quentin’s slit and wiggled. He got serious hip wiggle in return.

“Oh yes, yes, darlin’.”

Micah pulled away. “Really want to fuck you. It feels like years.”

“Fuck away.” Quentin rolled back and pulled his legs beside his ears.

“Nice move. Your grandmother’s yoga must be rubbing off on you.”

Quentin extended his arms between his legs. “I want you to rub off on me.”

Sweet. Sweetness. Micah leaned forward until his body caressed Quentin and then he kissed him gently on the lips. “I want to hold you and kiss you, but…”

“Yes, fucking first.”

Micah dove for the end table and grabbed the supplies. Condom on. Check. Lube into sweetest hole on the planet. Ooooh yes, check.

Quentin sighed as Micah gently lubed his passage. Then he applied some juice to his throbbing dick. Cock to hole. Absolutely. Enter…oh yeah.

Quentin breathed out long and slow as Micah pressed in to the balls. He stretched his body forward so they were face to face. “You are so special. Do you know that?”

Quentin’s eyes misted, but he shook his head no.

Micah pulled out and ever so slowly pushed back in. “You are. You look like a rare bird of paradise, but you’ve got balls to spare.”

“Thank you.” The mist became a tear.

Micah kissed those full lips. “And I really care about you.” He pulled out and pushed in. Out and in, staring into those deep blue eyes. “Jesus, I love fucking you.”

Out. In. Out. In. Breath came hard. Faster and faster.

Quentin moaned and whimpered but smiled all the time. His butt rose to meet every thrust. “Oh, oh, oh.”

Micah’s hips had a mind of their own. He wanted to make it last, but those hips kept pounding until spots danced in front of his eyes and champagne fizzed in his balls. Too great. Oh God. Hot, tight. Perfect. Quentin. “Quentin. I’m going to come.”

“Good. I can’t hold out much longer. You’re rubbing against my cock so nice. Do it, darlin’. Do it hard!”

Micah caught his breath as his thrusts went into overdrive. Oh God. Oh God. Yes. Harder. Hotter. Juice bubbled in his balls and boiled over. Coming, cominnnng.

Hot cum squirted onto his chest from Quentin’s cock. “Oh darlin’. Oh, darlin’.”

Warmth poured through his arms and legs like oil as fire erupted from his cock, shot into his head, and flashed like black light in front of his eyes. He’d never known he could come like this. But then, he’d never known Quentin. The heat turned to warmth.

The warmth to sweetness.

He collapsed on that smooth, sticky chest and just breathed. Quentin’s legs flopped on the mattress beside Micah. “Darlin’, if raw organic food gives you that kind of energy, I think all men should become converts.”

Micah chuckled. “I think all my energy comes from cupcakes. I never had a fraction of the stamina until I met you.” He raised his head and rested his chin on Quentin’s chest. “I wish I could show you how special you are.” Wait! Idea.

Micah rose up and slowly pulled his soft cock from that lovely spot. He slipped off the condom and backed off the bed. “Be right back.”

He padded into the bathroom, tossed the condom, and warmed a washcloth then came back and wiped off Quentin. “I have something I’d like to give you.”

“What?”

“I’ll show you.” He grabbed a robe from the hook behind the door. Furtwangler fell in behind him as he walked to the kitchen. “I forgot about this until now, buddy. What do you think?”

“Merwaowr.”

“Yeah. I think I really got it for Quentin too.”

He stretched up to the top cabinet and retrieved the box he had hidden there two weeks before. The cat rubbed against his legs. “Yeah, I like this idea.”

He walked back into the bedroom. The washcloth was gone and Quentin had straightened the covers. He sat leaning against the headboard, his soft curls framing that angelic face.

Micah sat on the edge of the bed. “You can refuse this and I’ll understand. When I bought this I thought it was for someone else. Now I realize I bought it because I love it and it was always for you.” He handed Quentin the silver wrapped box.

“Should I open it?”

“Absolutely. It’s yours.” Micah put out a hand and stopped Quentin’s fingers on the bow. “It’s a reminder.”

“Of what?”

“Open it.”

Quentin undid the bow and then pulled off the paper. When he opened the box, the gold bracelet glimmered and the little carved dolphins danced around its perimeter.

“Oh my stars, it’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you. Will you wear it?”

His smile was shy. “If you want me to.”

Micah took the gold band and unclasped it, then fit it around Quentin’s slim wrist.

“Whether you’re dressed as Queen or as Quentin, you’re unique and beautiful. I’d love it if this could remind you of that.”

“Oh my.” Tears dripped onto Quentin’s smiling lips.

Micah leaned forward for a kiss. “I’ll be forever grateful to Valentine’s Day.”

“And to anti-Valentine’s Day.”

A phone chimed. Quentin looked toward the chair where he’d thrown his pants. “It must be Mary Beth.”

Micah fished for the phone and handed it to Quentin.

“Hello, dear.” He listened. “Yes, we’re having a lovely day, thank you.” Pause. He giggled. “Yes, we took your advice. When? Tomorrow night? I’ll ask him.” He put his hand over the phone. “Mary Beth wants to take us on a double date with her and George.”

Micah nodded yes.

Quentin stared at the phone then put it back to his ear. “He says yes. How serious is this relationship of yours, dear? Hmm. I see. Well, I’ll have to get to know him better. Where are we going?” He put his hand over the phone again. “She says that new fish restaurant in Corona del Mar.”

“Sounds great.”

“He says it sounds great. What should we wear? Oh good, casual.” He smiled at Micah.

“What?” The blue eyes widened. “NeeNee!” His hand came up to his mouth. “I can’t believe… You devil.”

He put his hand over the phone again and stared wide-eyed at Micah. “She says I should wear one of my favorite dresses.”

Micah stared back. Then started to laugh. Quentin joined in. On the other end of the phone, NeeNee made three.

~ About the Author ~

Tara Lain’s first erotic romance novel was published in January of 2011. She’s now on book 17. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series of 2011, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm, and she carries her promotional instincts into her writing career as well. She lives with her soul-mate husband in Laguna Beach, California, a pretty seaside town where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!

Find out more about Tara Lain here

E-mail: tara@taralain.com

Website: http://www.taralain.com

Author blog: http://taralain.blogspot.com

Book blog: http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4541791.Tara_Lain

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/taralain/

Twitter: http://twitter.com/taralain

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/people/Tara-Lain/100001514105686

FB Page: http://www.facebook.com/taralain

~ Also by Tara Lain ~

Volley Balls

Balls to the Wall Book 1

Two alpha males are better than one…

David Underwood needs to go to AA – Alpha-lovers Anonymous. His last attraction to an alpha male got him into an abusive relationship, and now ogling two hot members of the Australian volleyball team on Laguna Beach gets him harassed yet again. But he can’t resist the allure of the delicious Gareth Marshall… even if the man isn’t gay.

Australian Gareth Marshall needs to come out. A lifetime of hiding his orientation from his best friend and volleyball partner, Edge, as well as everyone else around him, has left him hurt and frustrated. When Gareth gets a load of David posing nude as the Michelangelo statue in the famous Laguna Pageant, he knows his days in the closet are numbered. And David is more than willing to help him take the first step out of the dark.

But Gareth’s teammate, Edge, has secrets of his own, and David's ex-lover will never be happy without David under his thumb. With everything stacked against him, can a gay Laguna man find happiness with an alpha male—or two?

Buy Volley Balls here

http://www.amazon.com/Volley-Balls-Wall-ebook/dp/B0059W2CF0/

Fire Balls

Balls to the Wall Book 2

A passionate artist, a handsome firefighter, can the sex get any hotter?

Artist Rodney Mansfield is small and flamboyant…and a black belt in karate. Too bad the work of art he really wants is firefighter Hunter Fallon. The gorgeous “straight gay” guy could never want the Runtback of Notre Dame, so when Rodney’s handsome surfer friend develops an unexpected passion for the beautiful firefighter, Rodney does what’s best for everyone and helps Jerry land his man. And if that wasn’t enough to kill his chances, embarrassing Hunter by rescuing him from a firehouse bully seals the deal.

Hunter hates gay guys like Rodney…doesn’t he? Then why can’t he get his mind off the powerful pipsqueak’s face…and hands off his body? Isn’t it time for him to admit he’s not such an alpha male after all, and that he’s the property of the artist?

Buy Fire Balls here

http://www.amazon.com/Fire-Balls-Wall-ebook/dp/B00748O78C/

Beach Balls

Balls to the Wall Book 3

Adam James is so far in the closet he could find Narnia. But coming out would threaten all he's built as the attorney for the homophobic WMA Development, and the million-dollar paycheck waiting for him once they push their big land development deal through the city council. Then, on an early morning scuba dive, Adam meets a tall, lean rebreather diver named Sky who makes him want to live a different life.

Sky Sea Mickeljohn doesn't compromise. He knows what he stands for and stands for it openly: the environment, world peace, and being gay. So how could he find himself lusting after a damned developer? Especially the one working on the WMA land development deal, which would put thousands of people at risk by developing a toxic waste site they have neither the capital nor the know-how to clean up? And worse, what's going to happen when someone opens Adam's closet door?

Buy Beach Balls here

http://www.amazon.com/Beach-Balls-Wall-ebook/dp/B0087GUGMG/

Snow Balls

Balls to the Wall Book 3

Can a man pretend to find true love?

Big, handsome, and hunky, JJ LaRousse looks like an alpha male but acts like an interior decorator. And he’s trying to be happy about it--until a robbery at the famous Laguna Winter Fantasy brings JJ face-to-face with tough cop, Ryan Star. JJ hears Ryan likes guys who are manly men, so he drops his voice an octave, colors over his pink hair, and tries to pass as a football fan. After all, his father always said he should be more macho.

Ryan Star may be tough, but he hides in the closet at work. He learned in New York that being a gay cop can cost you your life. His attraction to the big, handsome JJ threatens his anonymity, but he can’t seem to resist. JJ is just his type. But when JJ goes skiing and comes face to face with his greatest nemesis, all the secrets come out of the closet. Can Ryan love JJ for who he really is? More importantly, can JJ?

Buy Snow Balls here

http://www.amazon.com/Snow-Balls-Wall-ebook/dp/B00AJW1VE8/

~ More Romance from Etopia Press ~

On a Lee Shore

Elin Gregory

“Give me a reason to let you live...”

Beached after losing his ship and crew, and with England finally at peace, Lt Christopher Penrose will take whatever work he can get. A valet? Why not? Escorting an elderly diplomat to the Leeward Islands seems like an easy job, but when their ship is boarded by pirates, Kit's world is turned upside down. Forced aboard the pirate ship, Kit finds himself juggling his honor with his desire to stay alive among the crew, not to mention the alarming--yet enticing--captain, known as Le Griffe.

Kit has always obeyed the rules, but as the pirates plunder their way across the Caribbean, he finds much to admire in their freedom. He deplores their lawlessness but is drawn to their way of life, and begins to think he might just have found a purpose. Dare he dream of finding love too? Or would loving a pirate take him too far down the road to ruin?

Buy On a Lee Shore here

http://www.amazon.com/On-a-Lee-Shore-ebook/dp/B00ANV96ZG/

Comfort and Joy

Charley Descoteaux

How much love does it take to heal the wounds of hate?

Sam and Charlie have been together over a decade, and their commitment to each other has only grown stronger through the years. But love is not always easy, and eighteen months after a violent assault, their fairy-tale relationship is still struggling. Charlie can’t shake the lingering fear of attracting more violence by displaying affection, and is angry at himself for not getting past it. Sam would do anything to help Charlie feel better—if only he knew what that was.

The century-old farmhouse in Northwest Oregon is the perfect place to spend the holidays with Sam’s family, but it was their refuge after the attack, and it still holds painful memories of those difficult first months. Christmas should be a joyful time, but even being surrounded by people who love him isn’t enough to make Charlie feel safe. He could try to keep to himself, but even if Sam agreed to give him the space he needs, Sam’s warm and loving family might not. And even though they agreed not to exchange gifts, Sam has a surprise up his sleeve that he hopes will make everything merry and bright. But he may end up more surprised than Charlie before the week is out…

Buy Comfort and Joy here

http://www.amazon.com/Comfort-and-Joy-ebook/dp/B00APRADZ0/

By Surprise

Alyssa Turner

Sex that's twice as good, love that's three times stronger.

When Jodi returned to Burlington after a nasty divorce, broke and without a much needed place to sculpt, she never expected to bump into Paxton, her best friend from growing up. With her unresolved feelings for him still smoldering, it was a shock to find him married—to a great guy. But when Paxton and Nicholas offer her a room for rent in their too-big, too-expensive Victorian, complete with a turret to use as her art studio, it seems like the perfect solution for everyone. Until Jodi overhears Nicholas and Paxton making love—and finds herself burning hotter than she ever imagined.

Nicholas always knew his husband Paxton was bi-sexual, but finding his forgotten stash of cheerleader DVDs makes him wonder if Paxton's been tamping down his old desires. As strong as their love is, he knows there are things he just can't give Paxton...or can he? He decides to get Paxton a very special birthday present—a night with a woman—a no-strings arrangement to grant him the fantasies Nicholas isn't equipped to fulfill. But when he meets Paxton's best friend Jodi, Nicholas finds himself facing new feelings of his own. If only he could stop imagining Jodi's body wedged between Paxton and him and figure out what to do...

Buy By Surprise here

http://www.amazon.com/By-Surprise-ebook/dp/B007FTYE2Y/

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six