Melting Point by Kate Meader

Author:Kate Meader
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Star

THE TEXT CAME IN AT 2:10 A.M. Just got off a shift at the bar. U up for a visit?

Brady’s heart—and dick—jumped. He texted back: Sure.

Should he wrestle a T-shirt on and cover up? Yes, Gage had seen his scars already, but there was no need to shove them in his face. On the other side was the discomfort of working a tee over his shoulder and . . . The decision was made for him when his buzzer interrupted the internal debate, sounding remarkably like here’s-yo-booty-call. Gage must have been close by when he sent that text.

Look at me, grinnin’ like a fool.

Gage’s blond head appeared at the top of the stairs and Brady saw the moment he clicked over to his sunny self. Like a lamp.

“What’s wrong?” Brady asked, concerned.

Gage stopped, hands in jean pockets. “Nothing. Just wanted some company.” That voice was sexy as ever, but there was something else. An edge of weariness that sounded so strange on him. He lay a hand on Brady’s hip, covered in gray sweats, and nuzzled his neck. Didn’t kiss him, just breathed him in.

“You gonna turn down a little company?”

Nah, I don’t want a blow job . . . said no one ever.

So why wasn’t Brady all over this? Something about Gage’s body language was throwing him off what little game he had.

He cupped that strong jaw with the day-old stubble and wandered fingertips to the thundering pulse at the base of his throat. “Gage. Talk to me.”

“I’m fine . . . I’m just . . . I’m . . .” The smile slipped and the world tilted and Brady was pushed back against the doorframe while Gage fucked his mouth with his tongue. Such hunger. It howled through Brady’s body like a cat-five hurricane.

A shocking question cut through the storm: was it possible that Gage actually needed him?

In the brief time they’d known each other, it had always been about Brady. His intimacy issues. His fears. Gage projected sunshine and confidence and invincibility. But when he called Brady this afternoon, he hadn’t sounded like the Gage that Brady was cuckoo about.

He had sounded like a man reaching out for comfort. Now he tasted like a man who needed this connection so badly that Brady actually reveled in the moment, independent of the imminent pleasure. His failure to get his team—and his body—out of the desert in one piece had left Brady unmoored. Finding his passion in cooking had been a good next step, but the rest of his life was a broken mess. What Gage was offering him—and he likely didn’t even realize it—could make him feel useful again.

He broke away and backed into the loft, dragging Gage with him.

“Tell me what you need, Gage. I’ll give you anything.”

Gage wore this stunned look, like he was just waking up from a hundred-year sleep. Raw desire made his features harsh.

“Your shoulder. Don’t want to hurt you.” But even before the guttural words were on the air, they both knew Brady’s shoulder would not be a barrier to anything tonight.

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