Brad's Bachelor Party by River Jaymes Read Free Book Online Page A

other part of their bodies. The plane ride back to Kauai was one Brad wouldn’t wish on anyone, unless one happened to enjoy the smell of Ryan’s sweat and Martinez’s puke and a silence so tense, so full of pressure, it warranted its own friggin’ weather system.
    Despite the strong, salty breeze and the sound of the ocean waves, Brad’s approach to the hammock wasn’t as stealthy as he’d hoped.
    “How’s Jenny?” Cole said as he opened those violently blue eyes and held Brad’s gaze, leaving him pinned.
    No one had the ability to communicate so much with such a simple look. Or with a two-word question.
    Fuck.
    “She thought I was recovering from one mother of a hangover,” Brad said, staring across the waters of paradise and wondering if this was what hell felt like. “I decided not to correct the assumption.”
    Cole let out a grunt that sounded like a reprimand, which irritated the heck out of Brad.
    “Use your fucking words, Cole.”
    “Which words would you like me to use, Brad ?” Cole said.
    Long, lean, jean-encased legs stretched out on the hammock. One arm rested across his camouflage T-shirt, the other crooked above his head, Cole looked for all the world like he was relaxing. Which, judging by the fire blazing in his eyes, he wasn’t.
    That someone’s-been-clinging-to-my-head-during-sex hair Brad had teased Cole about for years had real meaning now.
    And, Jesus , hands on a surgeon were expected to be elegant and attractive, but when had bare feet become so freakishly sexy?
    Brad swiped his hand down his face, shifting uncomfortably in the sand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…” He dropped his arm to his side and cleared the baseball from his throat, trying again. “I didn’t mean for the kiss to go so far. I didn’t mean to make things so awkward between us.”
    “Christ.” Cole shifted to a sitting position. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you came all over my stomach.”
    The surge of heat that shot through Brad’s body nearly knocked him on his ass. And he’d seen the well-fucked look on Cole’s face, the dazed eyes, the slack jaw, the boneless slump of his limbs.
    “I wasn’t the only one who left a mess,” Brad said.
    Great, now he sounded defensive.
    Cole looked at him as if he were insane. “Of course, what did you expect?”
    “Any dick will do for a dry hump, eh, Cole?”
    Cole’s lips tightened, but he said nothing.
    Brad hated that his dumbass actions and his stupid, dumbass mouth were creating such friction between them. He’d been ready to steal a simple kiss, both in payback and out of long-held curiosity. He’d been thrown for a loop when Cole had looked as if he was about to pay for a personal lap dance. But then Brad had spied Brandy’s hands on Cole’s shoulders, Brandy’s mouth at his ear, and the surge of jealousy that shot through his body had been shocking. Enlightening. A goddamn revelation.
    When had he turned into such a drama queen?
    Him. Jealous.
    Wasn’t that just the fucked-up icing on this fucked-up cake, because he was the one set to walk down the aisle tomorrow.
    He dropped into the hammock beside Cole, and they spent the next few minutes staring at the scenery, their thighs and hips too close for comfort. Avoiding everything that had become too much to be addressed.
    “Dry humping?” Cole rolled his eyes in exasperation, with that hint of fondness that Brad didn’t deserve. “You have such a juvenile way with words.”
    “What the hell would you call it, then? Grinding? Rubbing one out?”
    “The technical term is frottage .”
    Brad’s lids blew wide open, and he grunted, both horrified and vaguely amused by his brainiac of a friend. He’d never heard the term before, but he wasn’t a genius like Cole. Neither was he gay. Bicurious maybe. But not gay. At least he didn’t think he was. But lately he couldn’t look at Cole without thinking of how much he wanted to fuck him senseless, so some version of gay was looking