Friends and Lovers Read Online Free PDF Page B

lovers – he enjoyed men in all their varieties – but he loved his job and looked forward to returning to the halls of academia on Monday morning.
    Except this Monday…
    This Monday, there was someone in his bed with him, which was highly unusual, since he preferred to sleep alone – his partners were either dismissed to the spare bedroom he kept for them, or else they left to go home, having gotten what they’d wanted, a taste of the leather daddy.
    This Monday, the bed dipped, and a voice murmured in his ear. “It’s almost 6:30, buddy.”
    He relaxed when he realized it was his best friend, Jack.
    “In the morning?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Remind me to kill you later.”
    “Sure thing, buddy.”
    “What are you doing here anyway?” he mumbled, but he was drifting back toward slumber.
    “I spent the night, remember?” He had actually spent the whole weekend, and suddenly Tom was wide awake. “I wanted us to have breakfast together, but I’m running late.” Jack’s calloused palm fondled Tom’s ass. “I love your ass, Tommy. It’s as firm as a green watermelon.”
    Tom felt warm lips pressing a quick kiss to it and sternly squelched the desire to arch up into the caress.
    “I’ve got to head out for work, babe, but I brought you a cup of coffee.”
    Tom sat up, lured by the warm, fragrant steam that was wafting from his favorite mug, and accepted it.
    “You make a good cup of coffee, and that’s the only reason I’m letting you get away with waking me up at this ungodly hour,” he groused, hoping it hid his unease.
    “Sure. It has nothing to do with my winning ways in bed.” Jack tipped Tom’s chin up and kissed him, morning breath and all. “I’ll see you later, babe.”
    Once he heard the door close behind Jack, Tom made no effort to conceal his dismay. “Does he mean he’ll see me later, as in he’s coming back here after work?”
    “No,” he assured himself. “Jack has his own life, he’s a straight boy, it’s just a figure of speech.”
    “Isn’t it?” The plaintiveness in that question pissed him off. “I don’t need this bullshit on a Monday morning.” He put the unfinished cup of coffee on the night stand and determined to go back to sleep.
    His bladder had other thoughts, however, and finally he growled, flung back the covers, and got out of bed. Inner muscles protested the sudden movement. Jack had ridden him pretty good that last time, and he… he’d egged him on, relishing the deep possession.
    He limped into the bathroom. Once he’d taken care of business, he realized he was now too awake to find any comfort in sleep.
    “And that’s your fault too, Sweet!”
    He washed his hands and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were shadowed, and his cheek and jaw were covered in stubble.
    “You begged that last time, didn’t you? Pleaded with him to kiss you, like some... You’re fucked. You are so beyond fucked, a term for it has yet to be devised!”
    He dropped the cover on the commode and sat there, his head in his hands.
     
    Tom was a top, had never wanted to be anything other than a top, until recently, when reading the stories of an online acquaintance intrigued him enough to want to learn how the other half lived.
    He’d gone to his fellow tops with the request for a favor, and they’d laughed at him.
    “You’re kidding, right, Hansom? You’d never relinquish control long enough, and you’d wind up trying to top me!” Each one had brought up the same objection.
    Oddly enough, the more this one thing was denied him, the more he wanted it. As a last resort, he’d gone to his best friend. He hated doing it, because Jack – 6’4”, blond, blue-eyed Jack – was straight, twice married – and twice divorced – and with two kids he adored, and Tom had always looked on gay boys who propositioned straight boys with nothing but contempt, but he’d been desperate.
    “It’ll just be for the one night,” he had promised.
    And Jack had agreed.