Lost Souls Found by Kris T. Bethke

Author:Kris T. Bethke [Bethke, Kris T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-64080-453-1
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2018-04-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

SAM woke to an empty bed, and he wasn’t surprised. Reaching out, he felt the other side of the bed. The sheets didn’t even hold a hint of warmth from Michael’s body. Surprisingly, Sam wasn’t upset, because he had no doubt Michael was still in his house. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he was as certain of that as he was of his own name.

He stretched and winced, then smiled at each protest his body gave. God, he felt good. He ached in the most pleasant of ways, still feeling all they’d done together the night before. He scratched idly at his stomach, and the dried come flaked off under his fingernails. Okay, that wasn’t exactly pleasant. He sat up, stretched again, and padded to the bathroom.

It didn’t take long to take care of business and wash up. There were signs Michael had already done so, and while Sam was disappointed he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to wash Michael’s back, he was weirdly pleased that Michael had made himself at home. The logical part of his brain insisted he shove those feelings down and be practical, but he chose to ignore that voice. He would get as much out of it as he could and pick up the pieces of his shattered heart later.

Not the best idea he’d ever had, but at least he knew it.

Sam pulled on a pair of loose basketball shorts and an old T-shirt and walked barefoot down the stairs. The scents of coffee and bacon assailed him, and he grinned as his stomach growled. Michael was cooking breakfast.

When he entered the kitchen, he stopped and stared. Michael hadn’t bothered with a shirt. He’d simply pulled on his jeans from the day before. Sam watched him bustle around, butter toast as it popped up, turn the bacon, and stir the eggs. When he bent a little to check the flame under the frying pan, a well-placed rip on the back of his jeans showed very clearly that Michael had not bothered with underwear.

Sam must have made a noise, because Michael whipped around. There was a huge smile on his face, and Sam’s breath caught. He didn’t think he’d ever seen that kind of joy on Michael’s face in all the years he’d known him.

Michael tossed a hand towel over his shoulder, and then jogged over and leaned in and kissed Sam. It was just a quick peck of greeting, but it was warm and inviting. Sam sighed contentedly.

“Coffee? Everything else is just about done. I’ll have it plated in a minute.”

Sam blinked, then cleared his throat, and then moved past Michael and into the kitchen. “I can get it.”

“No. Sit. I got it.” He nudged Sam toward the café table he’d put in the breakfast nook, and then hustled back to the counter, filled a dark blue mug with the steaming brew, added one heaping teaspoon of sugar, and then passed it over.

Sam shouldn’t have been surprised that Michael knew how he liked his coffee, but he kind of was.

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