Frazer parked his silver Honda in front of Bar None and turned off the ignition. Maybe not the most original name in the world, but he’d heard the place was decent. Supposedly catered to a slightly older clientele than the clubs he frequented. Not that he was too old for the clubs -- yet -- but if he wanted something lasting, he wasn’t going to find it with a back-alley blowjob.
Becca had told him to shake it up, and he was going to try. An hour out of his usual stomping grounds better be worth his time. Sometimes older guys were worse than the young ones for banging anything with a dick. Not too damned old and not on the prowl -- that’s all Frazer asked for. His standards were lowering by the minute.
Frazer got out of the car and smoothed his hands down his shirt. His little Civic wasn’t the worst car in the lot, and some of his nervousness melted away. With determined steps, he walked in. Bar None had
to get him out of his rut.
The place had a cozy, neighborhood-pub feel to it, but upscaled a bit. The rest of his nervousness dissipated when he glanced around and assured himself this wasn’t a sleazy hookup place.
His gaze zeroed in on the muscular back of a man sitting by the bar. Oh yes. That was the place to start. Find out if the front was half as good as the back.
With few patrons seated around the bar, it took mere seconds for the bartender to become aware of Frazer.
“What’s on draft?” Frazer asked. Beer wasn’t his preferred drink, but he needed a little liquid courage. Martinis got him blitzed, and he had to drive home later.
The bartender listed a bunch of names, some of which he’d never heard of. More choices than he’d expected.
“Any Belgian beers?” He’d heard they tasted better.
“Just one.” The bartender gestured at a long white tap handle.
“I’ll take it.”
“No problem, sweet thing.”
Sweet thing? A grin pulled the corners of Frazer’s lips up. Nothing like a compliment to give him a bit of confidence.
While he waited for the bartender to pull his drink, Frazer avoided looking at the man he’d first noticed. He didn’t want to get caught staring, and he didn’t want to initiate contact until he was ready. Which meant having a drink to hold. Otherwise he might do something lame, like wring his hands. Especially if the guy was as hot as Frazer imagined.
With a wink, the bartender handed Frazer his beer, and Frazer took a quick sip before sidling up to his target.
“Hello.” Frazer sat down in the seat to the man’s right.
“Hey,” the man said without looking up. Which was a shame. Now that Frazer was up close, he could appreciate how brown the man’s skin was, how soft his black hair looked. Even the man’s aristocratic, pointed nose was attractive.
The man didn’t seem interested, and rejection sucked, but Frazer couldn’t help himself. “I’m Frazer.”
“Cooper.” The man swiveled toward Frazer.
Oh. God. Perfect brown skin over perfect chiseled cheekbones. Eyes the color of his damned beer, almost whiskeylike. Lips smooth and firm, not too plump and not too thin. Thirty, maybe a little older. Frazer’s gaze traveled down the man’s neck to the open-throated purple dress shirt, where he spied a few black chest hairs peeping out. Fingers trembling with the need to touch, Frazer held out his hand to shake, hoping he wouldn’t “accidentally” slip and stroke over the firm pectoral muscles visible underneath Cooper’s shirt.
Cooper stretched out his hand, and as Frazer met those gorgeous eyes again, their hands touched. More of a caress than a handshake. Frazer couldn’t breathe. Cooper’s fingers transmitted some sort of lightning bolt that thundered through Frazer’s veins until it hit his cock, making it swell in the confines of his pants. The sudden dilation of Cooper’s pupils told Frazer he wasn’t the only one in lust.
When Cooper finally released his grip, shaking his head a little, Frazer realized they’d been holding hands for several seconds. Wow. He’d never felt anything like it before.
“Care to move to a booth, Frazer?” Cooper asked in a voice that stirred desire in the pit of Frazer’s stomach.
“Yes, please.” Frazer grabbed his drink to follow Cooper. Was this a one-night stand? He hoped not, but he’d take whatever Cooper offered. Damn hormones.
Cooper’s heart pounded. He was almost afraid to turn around and look at the man behind him. Frazer couldn’t be as good-looking as he’d thought. Frazer was exactly Cooper’s type. Not too tall -- but then, most men were smaller than he was. Light blond hair, creamy skin, midtwenties, slim but not skinny. Enormous blue eyes with a hint of eyeliner and filled with lust. For Cooper.
In a few harsh breaths, they were at an empty booth, Frazer moving around to slide in across from him. Cooper’s heart stuttered, and his dick flexed. Saliva pooled in his mouth as he imagined licking every inch of that smooth, pale skin. Dammit, he didn’t know Frazer’s last name -- he didn’t even know if Frazer was his real name -- and for a change, he didn’t care.
The booth was darker than the bar, surprising Cooper, as the bar had been plenty dark already. The setting was more intimate than he’d expected, but he congratulated himself on his decision to come here tonight.
Watching Frazer’s tongue slide out to wet pink, pink lips made Cooper ache. He knew in that moment that Frazer was his for the night if he wanted. He hadn’t tried for more in a long time. Too many others had claimed he was too clingy, too smothering. Made him gun-shy. But Adam and Carmichael’s happiness made him want to try again. Frazer could be the one. Maybe.
Cooper pulled in a deep breath and caught a whiff of Frazer’s cologne. Light, fresh, like a recently mowed lawn. Sexy. He wanted that smell in his nostrils, along with the scent of sweaty man.
“Frazer.” Cooper liked the sound of the name. He hoped it wasn’t fiction, because he had a sudden vision of him calling it out while buried deep in Frazer’s ass, and it felt right. He couldn’t wait. “I’m Cooper Wallace.” If he was going to start this right, he needed to be up front about his name too. “Are you from around here?”
Frazer smiled, sweet and pure. “I’m Frazer Nyland.”
Good. Unusual enough. Frazer might be for real. Cooper relaxed, the tension in his shoulders making itself known only by its absence.
“And I’m not far, about an hour away.”
An hour. He could work with that. “Are you single?” Cooper had no interest in being someone’s dirty little secret.
“Yes. Heard good things about this place, and from what I can see, it’s definitely good.”
Frazer’s gaze roamed over his skin like a caress, and Cooper’s dick strained toward him. Sweat popped out on his forehead as he struggled to not reach across the table and drag Frazer into his lap. He wanted a taste so bad. Cooper had never been so desperate for someone, without anything more than a handshake.
“I’m single too,” Cooper said in reply.
Frazer nodded and beamed at him. Good. They were on the same page.
For several long seconds, they just looked at each other.
Frazer found himself completely speechless. He downed half of his beer for something to do with his mouth besides offering to fuck Cooper in his car. Or blow him in the bathroom. The whole point of coming here was to avoid another empty, depressing, sordid one-night stand. It was the whole reason he hated hookups. So why couldn’t he think of anything besides having sex with Cooper?
No matter how much he wanted to get Cooper naked, he also sensed Cooper wasn’t a shitheel like most of the men he’d dated. He needed to say something. Something that would convince Cooper that Frazer was worth dating. Here he was with the sexiest man he’d ever come across, and the only things he could think of were lame, unoriginal, and crude pick-up lines.
“So, Frazer Nyland.” Cooper drew out his name in a low tone, causing electricity to dance at the base of Frazer’s spine. “Where does that name come from?”
Frazer hoped Cooper’s voice would take on that same timbre while Frazer rode him like a cowboy. And he’d been kind enough to throw out a convenient conversational handle.
“Mmmmm.” Cooper purred, and Frazer shifted before taking another big gulp of his beer. Mmmmm, indeed.
“What about you? Cooper?”
“You can call me Coop. Most people do.”
“Coop, eh? You can’t call me Fraze, though.” Frazer grinned. He’d had one boyfriend who’d kept calling him that, and it drove him batshit crazy.
“Good to know.” Coop smiled back, teeth gleaming white against the dark tan of his skin.
God, he looked like an elegant Indian raja.
Cooper set his drink down well out of the way before deliberately reaching for Frazer’s hand. A square-tipped index finger traced the vein along Frazer’s knuckle.
Frazer wriggled in his seat, careful not to move his hand away from Coop’s hypnotic touch.
“What do you do for a living, Frazer?” That gorgeous hand lightly stroked Frazer’s fingers. How did Coop expect him to answer coherently when his blood had abandoned his brain and settled in his lap?
“House sitter.” Really, Frazer?
After he’d spent weeks trying to come up with something that didn’t make him sound like a glorified couch potato, house sitter popped out of his mouth. Not that it wasn’t true, but it was so much more than that, and it paid better than most people would have guessed. Enough to put him through college.
A thoughtful look crossed Coop’s face, but not the disparaging look Frazer usually got.
“House sitter?” Coop’s tone invited more explanation.
“Basically I look after summer houses in Brinton during the winter. You know, take care of maintenance, make sure pipes don’t freeze or burst, stock the pantry at the beginning of the summer, stuff like that.”
“What do you do during the summer?”
“It depends. Sometimes I travel. Sometimes I take courses.”
“Wow. Sounds like I’m in completely the wrong profession.”
“And what profession would that be?”
“Oh, uh, I work for the government. Research.”
Hmmm. Evasive but not lying. Interesting. Did Cooper’s job embarrass him? Maybe he was an accountant or something boring. But shit, he was in damn fine shape for a pencil pusher.
“You take courses? What kind?” asked Cooper.
“Trying to finish up my bachelor’s.”
“Biology. Don’t know what I’ll do when I finish, but I wanted to be a veterinarian when I was a kid, and I always liked biology.” Frazer shrugged. His parents had wanted both him and his brother to go to college, but after they’d died, there hadn’t been any money. He’d worked hard to get where he was now, but he knew damn well his dream of being a vet was nothing more than that. A dream.
Cooper used his free hand to bring his drink to his lips. Distracted from his thoughts, Frazer watched those lips move, that Adam’s apple bob, that slick pink tongue emerge to swipe over full lips.
This time after Coop set down his glass, both of his hands grasped Frazer’s, gently stroking the soft skin on the inside of his wrists. A shiver raced through Frazer. He whimpered. There was no other word for it. No one had ever touched him there. How could he not have known how erotic and sensual that spot was?
“Come home with me?” Cooper asked.
Frazer nodded frantically. Although loath to give up the pleasure of Coop’s fingers, he wanted to find out how much better those fingers would feel on his naked skin. On his cock. Sliding into him.
Coop watched him intently, as if he knew what thoughts were swirling through Frazer’s mind -- and liked ’em.
Cooper unfolded himself from the booth and stood. Good thing Frazer liked men who were taller than he was.
“After you.” Cooper gestured.