The One That Got Away by Madeleine Urban, Rhianne Aile Read Free Book Online

head, still hesitating beside the couch.
    He needed help with his jeans unless he wanted to sleep in them, but Trace’s hands anywhere near the vicinity of his crotch was just not a good idea right now. Making a silent vow to wear sweatpants the next day, he cleared his throat. “Uhm, if you’ll just do the button, I think I can handle the rest,” he said, motioning toward his jeans. He was half-hard, but hoped Trace just wouldn’t notice. The man was straight, after all; he wasn’t used to looking for signs of arousal from a man.
    “Sure.” Trace pushed away the niggle of concern. He’d probably been mother-henning David too much anyway. If the man was tired, he was tired. He reached up and slid his fingers into the waistband on both sides of the button as he pulled it open, and it did occur to him to glance  over what he was doing. Some part of his head noticed “Hey, David’s got some size on him,” but as soon as he released the jeans and sat back, the thought was gone. “I’m gonna chill awhile, then I’ll clean up.” He smiled lazily. “Thanks for the scotch.”
    David swallowed, looking down at Trace. The brunet’s eyes were closed, his mouth curving up into a satisfied smile. David was nearly overcome with a desire to lean down and kiss that smile. Clenching his fists, he forced himself to turn away from his friend and walk toward the bedroom, adjusting the growing tightness in his jeans once his back was turned. If his right arm had been functioning properly, he’d have locked himself in the bathroom and taken care of the developing problems, but he wasn’t at all ambidextrous when it came to self-pleasure. Once safely hidden away in his bedroom, he shuffled his jeans to the floor, cursing softly as his hand brushed the bulge in his boxers, torturing himself by letting his fingers linger and flex over the stiff shaft. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
    He stretched out on the bed.
    Humming slightly as he enjoyed the buzz, Trace lay sprawled on the couch for some time before yawning and deciding he should move before he fell asleep right there. He stretched and yawned again, then knelt down on the floor and cleaned up the rest of the popcorn, secreted away the scotch, and scooped up his clothes. Turning off the light, he wandered down the hall, stopping to drop his clothes in the hamper in the hall closet.
    With a sigh he pushed the bedroom door open, peering in at the figure under the covers. David had taken to sleeping on his good shoulder, uncomfortable on his back, and the soft light from the bathroom fell on his blond hair.
    Trace slid his hand into the bathroom and clicked off the light before walking around to the other side of the wide bed. He slid out of his pants, leaving them puddled on the floor, and crawled into bed in just his briefs.
    He sighed and stretched out on his belly and pulled the pillow under his chin.
    David shifted as the bed dipped under Trace’s weight, keeping his breathing even so that his friend would think he was already asleep. He’d been lying in the dark trying to make sense of his conflicting thoughts. He and Trace had been friends for years without the hint of something more and now suddenly he was assailed by erotic thoughts of stripping the handsome brunet bare and licking every inch of his body. Biting his lip, he moved his leg slightly forward to hide the evidence of his wayward thoughts.
    Turning his cheek against the pillow as he drowsed, Trace curled his body toward David unconsciously, drawn by the heat of the other man’s body. After a few long minutes, he shifted further in David’s direction as he slept. Tensing as Trace threw an arm over him some minutes later, David bit back a yelp of surprise. Oh, great. Feed Trace decent scotch and the man became a cuddler. David attempted to inch sideways to put more space between them and the arm resting at his waist tightened, pulling him back into the curve of Trace’s body. With a resigned sigh, David attempted