The One That Got Away Read Online Free PDF

change. David’s comment about affording him was still amusing. 

    “What I really want is a beer, but probably not a good idea with the pain meds. Pepsi.” Surprisingly hungry, David started eating, and three-quarters of his sandwich was gone before he realized it. Reaching for the tomatoes now that he had room on his plate, he looked at Trace. “So when do you need to leave? Hardin probably sees this as fraternizing with the enemy.”
    Trace glanced up from his sandwich, waiting to answer until he’d finished chewing. “Unless you’ve got someone else to call, I’m sticking around. You really need to be in bed, David,” he said, concern marking his brow. “If you move that shoulder, even a little, and get it out of alignment, you might have to have surgery to put it back together.”
    “I’ll make you a deal,” David bargained. “I’ll get back in bed. I’ll even let you give me one of the pain pills that will knock me out for a few hours. You can go check in with your editor before he puts out an APB, and then pick us up a stack of movies and Huwan Cho’s Chinese on the way back.”
    “Sounds good to me. Now finish your lunch.” Trace grinned and poked the plate of tomatoes closer before sliding out of his chair to pry open one of the prescription bottles. “You want sesame beef or pork lo mein?” he asked, knowing David’s usual preference. “I’ll get some pot stickers too.”
    “How about both, and we’ll share them?” David suggested, knowing Trace’s propensity for snagging food off his plate. Finishing up the last of his sandwich and the tomatoes, he took the pills with the end of his soda.
    Standing, he shuffled, obviously stalling. He wanted to say something.
    Trace rinsed the plates off in the sink and stacked them to wash later.
    When he turned, he saw David waiting. “Do you need something?” Trace asked in concern. David didn’t look like he felt all that well, but he looked  better than he had some hours ago. Trace tilted his head to one side, his hair tumbling off his shoulder and the wrinkled shirt he’d slept in.
    “Could you…. That is, would you… erm.” David fidgeted. “Can you help me get my jeans off?” he blurted.
    Smirking, Trace set his hands on his hips. “You know, I would have figured you for a more suave kind of man,” he teased. “What kind of line is that?” he asked as he walked over and handily unfastened the button. “I wouldn’t figure guys would be so easy,” he said as he pulled down the zipper.
    David watched as Trace’s long, blunt fingers unfastened his jeans.
    His breath lodged in his throat, making his head spin, and he could feel his cock, only fractions of an inch from Trace’s hand, twitch and swell. Fuck!
    Forcing air into his lungs, he glanced guiltily up at Trace’s face. His friend was grinning at him, relaxed, teasing. Trace had no idea the effect he was having. Thank you, God. “Yeah, well, then you don’t know men very well. We’re an easy bunch when it comes to getting in our pants.”
    Trace laughed and slid two fingers through a belt loop on David’s hip, tugging gently to get him moving toward the bedroom. “I’ll keep that in mind should I ever decide to expand my horizons.”
    Something flip-flopped in David’s gut. Trace teasing about becoming bi-curious was doing nothing to calm his libido. Hopefully the meds would kick in soon and knock him out. After following the brunet down the hall obediently, David pushed his jeans to the floor, walking out of them as he crossed the bedroom, and he crawled immediately into bed.
    He didn’t open his mouth for fear his muddled brain would say something he couldn’t take back.
    Straightening the sheet out from under the bedspread, Trace pulled it up over David. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaned over David to snag another pillow, and pushed it up carefully under his friend’s injured  shoulder. “There you go,” he murmured, squishing the pillow a little more