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248 pages, Paperback
First published September 13, 2008



I felt petty and mean-spirited--especially since he was the leanest I'd ever known him. All hard muscle and bone. All sharp edges and bite--except he wasn't biting.
*****
"Oh, yeah," Jake said drily. "How is Captain Crunch?"
"He's fine. He's back teaching at UCLA."
"So I heard. Because no college education is complete without a course in Applied Hokum."
"It can't be all Police Science and SS Interrogation Techniques."
"Speaking of which, remember to let me know before you talk to anyone--assuming you decide to continue."
"Roger wilco."
He sighed and rang off.
*****
Uh, hey," I said. "It's Adrien. English."
There was a pause and he said, "I haven't forgotten your voice. Let alone your last name."
And for once I had nothing to say. Jake's mouth found mine, his lips molding hot and soft to my own. His tongue tentatively tested the seal of my lips; I parted them and he pushed inside. It was startlingly sweet and achingly familiar, like finding harbor. Like I had been waiting decades for this, traveling leagues, Odysseus sailing at long last into the blue crystal waters of Ithaca--and never considering the trouble ahead.
(…)
He tasted dark and bittersweet, like my memories--only more intense. My heart pounded hard, blood drumming away in my ears, like spring's freshet after the ice began to break. I kissed him with all the hardness and hunger in me--let him feel it all: my anger and grief and frustration. When we finally broke apart Jake didn't look shocked; he looked…predatory. Hot. Ravenous. Forty days in the wilderness and--well, not paradise at the end of it--maybe steak dinner with all the trimmings. His eyes glittered.
(…)
And the taste of him…the flavor of him…Horrifyingly, unbearably sweet--sweet in the way crack must feel hitting the bloodstream of an addict after years of staying clean.
"You know what the hell this was, Jake. This was
He said steadily, "I've asked
I gritted my jaw hard.
"I talked to my family.
My jaw ached but I still couldn't prevent moisture from leaking out beneath my lashes and itching its way down my face.
He said, "Does that still mean anything to you?"
I opened my eyes. Saw his expression through the prism of unshed tears, and took a deep, unsteady breath.
"Yeah," I said. "It means something."
"I still dream about you."









Adrien will have to convince Jake someone is not what appears
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Not looking at me, he growled, “Oh, go to hell.”
I raised my water in a toast. “Sure. I’ll follow the trail of bread crumbs you’re scattering.
Shrugging out of the damaged shirt, Jake said roughly, “I still dream about you.”
“I have nightmares about you.” I dragged my T-shirt over my head, threw it aside.
‘I thought again how odd it was to be on formal terms with someone you had once permitted to lick your ears.’
‘I halted, mid-ripping open the cookies, and stared at him.
“Well, he’s pretty square,” I said. “I’m just a rectangular guy.” With latent triangular tendencies.’
“Look, Paul. I appreciate what you’re telling me, but I gave Jake my word. Not to mention the fact, he’d throw my ass in jail if he found out I tried to go around him.”
“He wouldn’t, you know,” he said. “Jake’s a pussycat.”
Yeah, just a big old saber-toothed tiger.’
‘We were locked onto each other as though we had just discovered this incredible thing you could do with two mouths pressing close and moist against each other. And the taste of him... Horrifyingly, unbearably sweet -- sweet in the way crack must feel hitting the bloodstream of an addict after years of staying clean.’
‘And then I sagged forward, utterly spent, emptied…light as air. I felt like I could have floated up and out…slipping through the open window and drifting away across the rooftops and satellite dishes and telephone wires…sailing away into the faintly smiling stars.’
