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Everyone has had their experiences with him. The Bad Boy. The strong, quiet type with a voice as smooth and cool as whiskey poured over ice.
For Dr. Patrick Bishop that bad boy was Max Stovall. They met, when at forty-two years old, Patrick decides to get his first tattoo. Max didn't say much at their first meeting, but he didn't have to. Patrick was immediately attracted to him. He sensed the attraction was mutual, even though Max played it cool and pretended otherwise. Getting close to Max won't be easy. He's in the closet and determined to stay there. Will Patrick walk away, or will he be able to show Max that life is better once you’ve embraced the one you love? Max and Patrick’s novella is book three in a complete three book series. Tags: Contemporary, Interracial, Age Gap, Tattoos, Opposites Attract, Out For You, HFN Heat Level: High/Explicit |
Excerpt
Max was on his way back to their table when he noticed the doc standing off to the side, in a hallway that lead to a different section of the patio. Partially hidden by the ivy that hung down over the door way, he was in shadow, his silver hair a subtle shine in the one spot of light that hit the area.
Max stopped. He might not have paid much attention in school, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew the doc was waiting there for him. When he got his feet moving again, he changed his course slightly, angling towards where the doctor stood. When he was in front him, Patrick spoke.
“You and I have a lot in common.”
Max raised his chin. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”
“We both have our own businesses. We both enjoy art, just in different mediums. We like sci-fi. And…”
The doctor paused and Max waited there for several seconds, half in the dark with the doc, half in the light of the bar. When he couldn’t wait anymore, he prompted him. “And?”
“And we both spent a large part of our lives in the closet.”
Max’s grip tightened on the handle of his beer mug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Patrick didn’t say anything, he just took a step back, further into the shadows. Two thudding heartbeats later, Max followed. Now they were both hidden away, the barest hint of light allowing him to see Patrick’s face.
“You do know, Max. I see the way you look at me.”
Max took a nonchalant sip of his beer. “I don’t look at you any kind of way.”
“Sure, you do,” Patrick said with a slow smile. “Let me tell you how I look at you. Maybe that will ring a bell.”
He moved in closer, close enough for Max to catch a hint of that damn cologne. You’d think he was a fucking tree hugger as much as he loved that pine and woodsy smell.
“I look at you and I see full lips that I’ve been spending entirely too much time thinking about. Imagining what they taste like. What it will be like when I kiss them.”
Patrick leaned in closer. Max didn’t move. Partly because he didn’t want to back down. Partly because he wanted to be close to the other man.
“What they'll feel like against my skin.”
Max still didn’t move as Patrick came even closer, close enough that there was the soft sound of cloth sliding against cloth as their chests brushed together. He didn’t move as Patrick took the beer from his hand, setting it on the recessed shelf next to him.
He didn’t move as Patrick leaned in, the scent of his cologne wrapping around him, again making him want to press his face to the doc’s throat. Patrick’s lips touched his. Just a brush, too light to be a kiss, too warm and soft to be anything else.
Patrick pulled back. “I wonder if I’ll ever get past imagining all that.”
Max heard the crinkle of paper and felt Patrick slip something in his pocket.
“That’s my phone number. Call me if you want to help me satisfy my curiosity. If not, I understand.” The doc took another step back. “I’ve already said goodnight to Whitney and Sabrina, so they won’t know you were talking to me. I hope to hear from you, Max.”
Patrick stepped around him, walking away without looking back. But Max watched him until he was out of sight.
Max took a second to get his shit together before he grabbed his beer and went to rejoin the group at the table. He didn’t mention the conversation he’d had with Patrick. But he kept replaying it in his head. And he was aware of the slip of paper in his pocket for the rest of the night.
Max stopped. He might not have paid much attention in school, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew the doc was waiting there for him. When he got his feet moving again, he changed his course slightly, angling towards where the doctor stood. When he was in front him, Patrick spoke.
“You and I have a lot in common.”
Max raised his chin. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”
“We both have our own businesses. We both enjoy art, just in different mediums. We like sci-fi. And…”
The doctor paused and Max waited there for several seconds, half in the dark with the doc, half in the light of the bar. When he couldn’t wait anymore, he prompted him. “And?”
“And we both spent a large part of our lives in the closet.”
Max’s grip tightened on the handle of his beer mug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Patrick didn’t say anything, he just took a step back, further into the shadows. Two thudding heartbeats later, Max followed. Now they were both hidden away, the barest hint of light allowing him to see Patrick’s face.
“You do know, Max. I see the way you look at me.”
Max took a nonchalant sip of his beer. “I don’t look at you any kind of way.”
“Sure, you do,” Patrick said with a slow smile. “Let me tell you how I look at you. Maybe that will ring a bell.”
He moved in closer, close enough for Max to catch a hint of that damn cologne. You’d think he was a fucking tree hugger as much as he loved that pine and woodsy smell.
“I look at you and I see full lips that I’ve been spending entirely too much time thinking about. Imagining what they taste like. What it will be like when I kiss them.”
Patrick leaned in closer. Max didn’t move. Partly because he didn’t want to back down. Partly because he wanted to be close to the other man.
“What they'll feel like against my skin.”
Max still didn’t move as Patrick came even closer, close enough that there was the soft sound of cloth sliding against cloth as their chests brushed together. He didn’t move as Patrick took the beer from his hand, setting it on the recessed shelf next to him.
He didn’t move as Patrick leaned in, the scent of his cologne wrapping around him, again making him want to press his face to the doc’s throat. Patrick’s lips touched his. Just a brush, too light to be a kiss, too warm and soft to be anything else.
Patrick pulled back. “I wonder if I’ll ever get past imagining all that.”
Max heard the crinkle of paper and felt Patrick slip something in his pocket.
“That’s my phone number. Call me if you want to help me satisfy my curiosity. If not, I understand.” The doc took another step back. “I’ve already said goodnight to Whitney and Sabrina, so they won’t know you were talking to me. I hope to hear from you, Max.”
Patrick stepped around him, walking away without looking back. But Max watched him until he was out of sight.
Max took a second to get his shit together before he grabbed his beer and went to rejoin the group at the table. He didn’t mention the conversation he’d had with Patrick. But he kept replaying it in his head. And he was aware of the slip of paper in his pocket for the rest of the night.