Fast Connection (Cyberlove #2) Read online

  She wrapped an arm around my waist in a quick hug. “Okay, fine, sorry.”

  I patted her back with a flat palm. “I, uh, appreciate your support.”

  She pulled back, perfectly arched eyebrows lifting. “Oh! I read this hot book the other day about a construction worker and this shy elementary school teacher. And the teacher was the top! And they did this thing on his desk—”

  “Please stop.”

  Nadia liked reading gay romance and enjoyed reciting the sex scenes to me in painful detail. Sure they sounded hot, but I preferred the real thing. Without the happy ending. Well, I liked happy endings but the kind where I got off, not the kind where I had to be in a fucking relationship.

  I’d done that. With her. And it had ended. I wasn’t up for trying again.

  I’d known I was bisexual since I was a preteen, and had fallen in love with Nadia in high school. We’d married young, had kids right away, and it wasn’t until after their birth that we’d realized we’d been better as friends than husband and wife. Maybe my career in the army had changed me, but the older I got, the closer I kept my feelings to the vest, until I’d nearly shut out Nadia. As a friend, she could handle my impassiveness, but she’d had no patience with it when I’d been her husband. That was another reason I didn’t date—there was no one to disappoint with my defective interpersonal skills.

  Chelle came down the stairs, her bag dragging behind her. “Hey, Mom!”

  “Hey, baby.” Nadia hugged her, then shoved her toward the door. “Your brother is already in the car. Let’s go.”

  “Wait, does he get to drive?” Chelle’s voice was a screech as she hurried out.

  Nadia rolled her eyes then turned to me when Chelle was out of earshot. “So, I’d like to talk to you about meeting Anderson.” She watched my face closely, but I kept it blank. “It’s getting serious between us now. He has his own children, and he’s a great father. I trust him. And I want you to trust him too.”

  The flare of heat burning through my blood had nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with me being overprotective. Apparently I didn’t hide it well, because Nadia sighed.

  “He’s not like Jake.”

  The name still made me flinch a decade later.

  Him on his knees. My hand palming his head. Blue eyes looking up at me.

  The sound of my office door opening.

  She patted my chest. “Luke.”

  Nadia rarely introduced guys she dated to the kids, mostly because she knew how antsy it made me, but that changed if she got serious with someone. Even so, meeting her boyfriend sounded worse than pulling out my fingernails. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Really? You’re not going to protest?”

  “Let’s just get it over with.”

  “Gee, you sound thrilled.” She gave me the dreaded Look. “You ever going to introduce anyone to me? Or the kids?”

  “Nope.”

  She did that thing where she bit the inside of her cheek, which she always did when she was upset. “Luke, you’re not active anymore, you can be with whoever—”

  “It’s not about that. It’s about the fact that other than you, I have shit taste in people, okay?”

  “That is not true. You’re acting like everyone will do what Jake did—”

  I shuddered. I hadn’t thought about my ex-boyfriend in a long time, which was odd considering our disastrous breakup was a big reason I lived my life the way it was now. “This has been working for a decade. I have a sex life, not a dating life, and that’s completely separate from you and the kids and my job.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

  Great. Now she looked upset. I tried to soften my voice. “I realize that, but I’m getting older, Nadia. I like my life. It’s simple. Okay?”

  “Don’t call yourself old. We’re the same age.”

  I snorted. “I said I was getting older.”

  She still looked sad but not on the verge of tears. “I just worry about you.”

  “I appreciate it, but I’m fine.”

  Her smile was strained. “All right, if you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  After another brief hug and wave, she headed to the car. I closed the door, sagging against it. Shoving her conversation out of my head was step one in unwinding. I didn’t want to think about her or Jake or anything. Because I was alone. For an entire weekend.

  Despite Nadia’s teasing about pounding twink ass, she was not wrong. I scheduled it like clockwork, which was how I kept each part of my life in separate boxes. Every weekend when my kids were gone, I hooked up. I was already a little turned on knowing what was to come, my pulse beating faster, my jeans tightening in the crotch.

  That was one thing about Staten Island—there was no shortage of beautiful men who liked a thick cock up their ass. And thankfully a lot of them weren’t looking for anything but a quick fuck.

  I grabbed my phone and opened up the Grindr app. My dashboard was a smorgasbord of torsos in various sizes, shapes, and colors. I bypassed some guys I’d met before because repeat hookups and forming attachments was not my thing. A couple messages came in, but I ignored them. I liked initiating the conversations.

  My eyes caught on a guy named Staff Sgt, and I paused. Once upon a time I’d been a Staff Sergeant too. Long ago. In a life that didn’t even feel like mine anymore. I shook off the thought and focused on the task at hand. A task that would result in me getting my dick sucked.

  Staff Sgt’s pic was of his torso, and even though this entire borough was full of gym rats, his washboard abs and dog tag tattoo stood out like a beacon. He probably had a dozen messages in his inbox right now.

  His profile indicated he was interested in “right now”, so meeting was a possibility. I glanced at his interests. Look good and know how to spell.

  When I found my lips forming something like a smile, I messaged him.

  Luke: Hey, nice pic.

  I paused. Normally I’d say, got a face pic? But Prince Abs probably expected full sentences.

  Luke: Do you have one of your face and ass?

  I sent it and waited.

  StaffSgt: In the same pic? Dude that’s hard. I don’t do yoga.

  A sound filled my kitchen and it took me a minute to realize I’d laughed. I’d fucking laughed. I quickly schooled my face. No laugh lines.

  Luke: No, not the same pic.

  StaffSgt: Oh, okay. Give me a minute.

  Ten seconds later, another message came through.

  StaffSgt: Wait, can I see a face pic? I mean, I’m hard just from your profile pic so I’m hoping the face matches.

  My profile pic was my torso. I regularly worked out and wasn’t ashamed of my chest hair that was more gray than brown. I’d started graying early and now, at thirty-nine, all the hair on my body was shot through with silver. I sent the face pic I always used, one I’d taken at the beach with my kids. Aviator glasses hid my eyes in the picture, but Nadia said it made me look fuckable.

  StaffSgt: Damn. You’re hot. Okay, hold on.

  The picture came ten minutes later, and I nearly swallowed my tongue. Staff Sgt was fucking Captain America.

  He was lying on a pillow, probably on his bed. His blond hair was messy, and his blue eyes were gorgeous. His full lips were turned up in a smirk that I ached to wreck. I wanted him. My mission was to get him in front of me—at my feet, on his hands and knees. I didn’t give a damn. I crossed my fingers, eyes, and everything that he wanted to bottom. He didn’t send a pic of his ass, but with that face I didn’t need one.

  Luke: Nice pic. What are you into?

  He didn’t reply for a minute, and I got antsy.

  StaffSgt: I like to run. Trying to do a half-marathon soon.

  I stared at my phone in disbelief. I wasn’t asking about his hobbies. I wanted to know if I could fuck him. Either this guy was punking me or…

  Luke: You’re over eighteen, right?

  StaffSgt: Wtf? Of course. Do you not see the tat of my
tags? I served eight years, bruh.

  I sagged in relief and skipped giving mental energy to the fact that he’d served during the time when Don’t Ask Don’t Tell had ended.

  StaffSgt: So, what are you into?

  Normally I’d say “top” and move on to the specifics of how fast I could get his pants around his ankles, but he wanted to chit-chat.

  Luke: I like to cook.

  As soon as I sent it, I cringed. Everyone liked to cook. This was fucking New York.

  Luke: And take care of my yard.

  After the message sent, I banged my head on my table. Now I sounded like I was two steps away from a retirement community. Christ. I was a landscaper by trade, but I didn’t have to share about my goddamn yard.

  StaffSgt: I guess food and plants are cool.

  This was unsexy as hell.

  Luke: You wanna meet?

  StaffSgt: For a drink?

  I warred with myself. Say yes and hope for the best or let him know upfront what I wanted? I went with honesty.

  Luke: Sure we can get a drink but then I want to fuck you.

  An entire minute passed before he responded. I knew because I counted every second.

  StaffSgt: Sounds good. Tell me where to be and when, and I’ll be ready.

  This time, my smile was so big it hurt. Game on.

  Chapter Two

  Dominic

  His profile name was Luke, and I didn’t care whether that was his real name or not. All I knew was Luke wanted to meet in an hour, which gave me fifty-five minutes to figure out what the hell I was doing since he literally lived two blocks away.

  Two blocks.

  I’d been back for a couple of months and I’d never seen this silver-fox motherfucker loping around my neighborhood. But that was New York for you. There were so many people packed in a small space minding their own business that I’d never made eye contact with anyone who didn’t know me as Nicky from Hot Bagels & More. What a claim to fame.

  I plopped down on my bed and texted Garrett. I’m about to have my first Grindr hookup. I need advice.

  No response. Great.

  While waiting, probably in vain, I switched back to Luke’s messages on Grindr. He’d made it plain as day that he wanted to fuck me, and I was totally down with that in theory but had no idea how it would play out in real life. It wasn’t like anal sex was an act I hadn’t performed—I’d been with plenty of girls who’d let me hit it from behind. But me taking it up the ass? I’d never tried it out other than a couple of fingers at an awkward angle, even though I’d fantasized about it a lot on the base.

  I sent Garrett a bitchy text and opened the browser in my phone.

  What to wear on a gay hookup.

  Google populated a billion sites about “cruising” and one Queerty article on “Fashion Faux Pas”. Smirking, I skimmed through the text and was horrified to see they thought anyone on Staten Island would seriously be rocking a pair of jorts or zipoffs. The Ed Hardy shirt was a real possibility, though. Some of my boys thought EH was the height of guido fashion.

  Okay, this was useless.

  I Googled how to prepare for anal sex and saw a variety of tips ranging from taking a shower to douching yourself. Again, I was baffled. I’d never seen a girl shove a hose up her ass before letting me go to town, so there was no way I was gonna do it. The Internet was useless.

  After plugging my phone into the charger, I paced, did a couple of sit-ups and pushups, then took a long, hot shower. I wasn’t sure if we were going out for an actual drink at one of the many bars in the neighborhood or if we were having a beer at his house, but I was assuming the latter. Donning a pair of black sweatpants and a skintight grey T-shirt, I had my feet in a pair of Nike slides and was out the door with three minutes to spare.

  I was halfway up Manor Road when I began regretting the footwear, but it was too late to double back. With my luck, I’d run into my mother and she’d yell at me to take the dog for a walk. Boner killer. I needed my own place, but it was next to impossible until I got a job that would pay rent for the long run.

  Jaw clenching, I forced the thoughts away. This wasn’t the time. I had to worry about playing it cool so Luke wouldn’t realize I was an ass-sex noob.

  The address he’d given me belonged to a house a little larger than mine and nicer. It was a tudor-style in a warm yellow with a narrow driveway leading to a sizeable backyard. Not the type of place I’d associate with the no-nonsense mofo I’d met online an hour ago.

  Maybe this was the wrong address. Or maybe it was a setup. Shit. Did people use Grindr to arrange gay bashings? Suddenly leery, I glanced around several times before jogging up the stairs of the porch. I rang the doorbell once and took a few steps back to wait. If dude showed up wearing a mask and carrying a hammer, I was out.

  A serial killer didn’t answer the door. Well, I didn’t think so. Luke was even hotter in person. Strong jaw, good cheekbones, and eyes so pale blue they reminded me of icicles. And holy fuck he was big. A couple of inches taller than me and broad everywhere that mattered. I couldn’t tell if he was in his late thirties or early forties, but silver peppered his hair and jaw. Not that age mattered. I wanted to get on my knees right here in front of his neighbors and the nuns over at Blessed Sacrament Church.

  “Hey,” I said. “Nice house.”

  Luke’s response was to open his door and step to the side to allow me entrance. I hesitated for only a moment before walking inside. His eyes were running all over me, and I swore I heard him inhale. My dick was already good to go, but I couldn’t stop myself from checking out the house as soon as I was inside.

  No signs of terrifying torture chambers or weapons. Just the same narrow rooms this neighborhood was known for, hardwood floors, green curtains, and a lot of random items lying around that definitely didn’t belong to this gentleman. Namely a pair of pink and orange running sneakers, a book bag covered in band patches, and a Fallen World Online hoodie hanging over the bannister. Huh. My sister lived on that damn video game.

  “Wife and kids out of town?” I asked, not even going for casual. “Because I’m not about the whole disruption-of-the-marital-home, thing.”

  Luke stopped staring at my dick long enough to scoff. He turned and strode towards the big archway leading to a cramped but cozy kitchen. There were plants hanging from hooks by each window.

  “I’m not married.”

  “Okay…” Clearly he wasn’t going to give me any further details. Maybe he babysat his nieces or nephews. Or maybe he ran a daycare. Either way, I’d take him at his word. I wasn’t here to be a private investigator, and his broad shoulders and strong neck were making me drool. “Not a big talker, huh?”

  “Not really.” He jerked the refrigerator open. “Beer?”

  “Sure. Whatchu got?”

  “I buy Flagship.”

  “The fuck’s that?”

  Luke shot me a look over his shoulder, one silver eyebrow hiking up. “It’s a Staten Island brewery.”

  “Well la-di-da.” I leaned against the counter and gave him a good view of my body. I knew he was digging the lines of my abs beneath my shirt. “I’ll take whatever you got.”

  He tossed me a dark bottle, and I caught it. His head inclined in approval before he got one of his own. I figured this was the point where we’d talk. He’d explain why there was kid paraphernalia in his house, I’d talk about the army, and we’d exchange some basic life details. That was what I’d always done with women from Tinder or OkCupid. The hangout portion of the hookup.

  It was painfully clear Luke wasn’t interested in wasting time.

  He drained his bottle without looking away. Took in everything from the crotch of my sweats, to the way my throat worked as I drank, and the bulge of my biceps when I bent my arm. This dude wanted to fuck, and it was turning me on so bad that my entire body tingled in anticipation. I was also hard and resorted to shoving my hand in my pocket to do a quick adjustment.

  Luke’s nostrils flared.


  The bottle clattered against the counter when he dropped it. I’d just put my own down when he crossed the room in two strides and grabbed the back of my neck. He was kissing me before I was ready for it, and I knew my heart was slamming against my ribcage so hard he could feel it. I had to inhale through my nose just to catch a breath as he devoured my mouth.

  I wasn’t sure if he was kissing me or dominating me, but the punishing thrusts of his tongue had my knees weak. I leaned back heavily against the counter as the edge dug into the small of my back and widened my stance so he could fit his crotch to mine. There was something mind-blowing about a man clutching my neck while his other hand sank down the back of my pants as we engaged in a frantic kiss. And there was something really fucking shocking about how thirsty I was for this guy to shove me around and do whatever the hell he wanted.

  By the time we separated, I was panting for breath and trying my damnedest to rub one out against the unforgiving denim of his jeans.

  “Upstairs,” he said in a low rumble. “Now.”

  I nodded but leaned in for another kiss instead of following the order. I’d never been too good at those. The drill sergeant had not enjoyed trying to break me, but I wanted Luke to have a blast turning me out. I licked his mouth, nibbled on his lower lip, and then kissed my way down before sinking my teeth into the corded muscle surrounding the hollow of his throat.

  He growled. “Get your ass upstairs before I fuck you right here.”

  Fucking in the kitchen? I was down for that. But having him drill me without any lube? Hell naw.

  I pulled away with a wet sucking sound. Without having any idea where I was going, I backtracked to the staircase. It led to a longish hall with a bathroom and three doors at one end, and another door at the other. He jerked his head at the one set away from the rest, and I was impressed that the house contained such a large master. He had his own bathroom and an enormous bed.