Fast Connection (Cyberlove #2) (2 page)

Her lips twitched as her eyes narrowed, and I braced for the hair-trigger temper she’d inherited from me. Instead, she sighed and shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. “Doing something socially isn’t going to kill you, Dad.”

“I realize it won’t kill me, but I’m fine, really.”

Micah touched her shoulder. “Just leave him alone, Michelle. I told you he’d say no.”

She turned, her long, curly black hair blanketing her shoulders. “It was worth a shot.”

“I’m sure he likes the quiet while we’re gone,” Micah said knowingly.

Thank God they didn’t know what I actually did while they were at their mom’s.

Chelle was hotheaded, but Micah had a way of calming her down. Maybe it was a twin thing. Her expression softened to contrite, and she dropped her eyes. “That’s true.”

I sent Micah my best silent thanks, but he was already grabbing his overnight bag from the floor at his feet. “I can hear Mom’s car.”

“Oh shit, I’m not done packing.” She ran out of the kitchen as I yelled after her, “Don’t fucking swear!”

Her reply as she ran up the stairs to her bedroom was unintelligible.

I stood and clapped Micah on the shoulder. “Thanks for backing me up.”

“She just doesn’t want you to be lonely.”

The front door opened and my ex-wife’s voice sounded down the hallway. “Micah! Chelle!”

Before Nadia had left Staten Island to move to Hoboken, the kids had lived with her most of the time. However, we’d been loath to relocate them to Jersey since they’d been attending Frances Perkins Academy—a highly rated K-12 school with amazing STEM and Arts programs. It was a public school, but there was a lottery system to get in, and the kids had been devastated about the idea of leaving after so many years. We’d altered our custody arrangement so they wouldn’t have to change schools. Now they were with me during the week and with their mom on weekends. I didn’t mind more time with my kids, but I sure as hell appreciated the time they spent with their mom.

I steered Micah toward the door, marveling again how fast he’d grown in the last year. At six feet, he was almost as tall as me and solid with lean muscle. He’d been working out now that I’d showed him how to strength train with the weights in our basement.

Nadia stood in the hallway, phone in one hand, thumb a blur as she swiped this way and that. She looked great as always—lean and fit in designer clothes and high heels, a complete contrast to my regular uniform of jeans and work boots. The kids had inherited traits from both of us. Looks-wise they had her deep brown skin and curly hair, and shared my light eyes. Personality-wise they’d inherited my stubborn streak and her smarts.

She glanced up as we came to a stop in front of her. “Chelle?”

“Still packing,” I said.

Nadia grinned at Micah and jerked her head toward the door. “You can go on out. Want to drive?”

Micah’s expression brightened. They’d just gotten their learner’s permits. “Hell yeah. Chelle’ll be pissed.”

Nadia shrugged, her hoop earrings swaying. “She should have been packed then.”

Micah nudged me. “Have a good weekend, Dad.”

“You too.”

He walked out and left me standing with Nadia. Her brown eyes coasted down my body and back again, then winked. “I see you have on your Pounding-Twink-Ass uniform of jeans and a tight black T-shirt.”

Few things made me laugh out loud, but this made me smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You look good.” She plucked at the shoulder seam of my shirt before gesturing to my hair. “No additional grays since I last saw you.”

“Seriously?”

“And no wrinkles! You know, that’s been your plan all along, huh? Never laugh so you don’t get laugh lines.”

“Are you finished?”

She was cracking herself up, clutching her stomach like she was the funniest thing ever. I glared.

“Oh shut up, you’re hot and you know it. Like you’ve ever had a problem finding someone to call you Daddy.”

Nadia had no filter, and it was awkward to talk about my current sex life with my ex-wife. Also, no way did I want someone calling me Daddy. “This conversation is ending now.”

She wrapped an arm around my waist in a quick hug. “Okay, fine, sorry.”

I patted her back with a flat palm. “I, uh, appreciate your support.”

She pulled back, perfectly arched eyebrows lifting. “Oh! I read this hot book the other day about a construction worker and this shy elementary school teacher. And the teacher was the top! And they did this thing on his desk—”

“Please stop.”

Nadia liked reading gay romance and enjoyed reciting the sex scenes to me in painful detail. Sure they sounded hot, but I preferred the real thing. Without the happy ending. Well, I liked happy endings but the kind where I got off, not the kind where I had to be in a fucking relationship.

I’d done that. With her. And it had ended. I wasn’t up for trying again.

I’d known I was bisexual since I was a preteen, and had fallen in love with Nadia in high school. We’d married young, had kids right away, and it wasn’t until after their birth that we’d realized we’d been better as friends than husband and wife. Maybe my career in the army had changed me, but the older I got, the closer I kept my feelings to the vest, until I’d nearly shut out Nadia. As a friend, she could handle my impassiveness, but she’d had no patience with it when I’d been her husband. That was another reason I didn’t date—there was no one to disappoint with my defective interpersonal skills.

Chelle came down the stairs, her bag dragging behind her. “Hey, Mom!”

“Hey, baby.” Nadia hugged her, then shoved her toward the door. “Your brother is already in the car. Let’s go.”

“Wait, does he get to drive?” Chelle’s voice was a screech as she hurried out.

Nadia rolled her eyes then turned to me when Chelle was out of earshot. “So, I’d like to talk to you about meeting Anderson.” She watched my face closely, but I kept it blank. “It’s getting serious between us now. He has his own children, and he’s a great father. I trust him. And I want you to trust him too.”

The flare of heat burning through my blood had nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with me being overprotective. Apparently I didn’t hide it well, because Nadia sighed.

“He’s not like Jake.”

The name still made me flinch a decade later.

Him on his knees. My hand palming his head. Blue eyes looking up at me.

The sound of my office door opening.

She patted my chest. “Luke.”

Nadia rarely introduced guys she dated to the kids, mostly because she knew how antsy it made me, but that changed if she got serious with someone. Even so, meeting her boyfriend sounded worse than pulling out my fingernails. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Really? You’re not going to protest?”

“Let’s just get it over with.”

“Gee, you sound thrilled.” She gave me the dreaded Look. “You ever going to introduce anyone to me? Or the kids?”

“Nope.”

She did that thing where she bit the inside of her cheek, which she always did when she was upset. “Luke, you’re not active anymore, you can be with whoever—”

“It’s not about that. It’s about the fact that other than you, I have shit taste in people, okay?”

“That is not true. You’re acting like everyone will do what Jake did—”

I shuddered. I hadn’t thought about my ex-boyfriend in a long time, which was odd considering our disastrous breakup was a big reason I lived my life the way it was now. “This has been working for a decade. I have a sex life, not a dating life, and that’s completely separate from you and the kids and my job.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

Great. Now she looked upset. I tried to soften my voice. “I realize that, but I’m getting older, Nadia. I like my life. It’s simple. Okay?”

“Don’t call yourself old. We’re the same age.”

I snorted. “I said I was getting older.”

She still looked sad but not on the verge of tears. “I just worry about you.”

“I appreciate it, but I’m fine.”

Her smile was strained. “All right, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

After another brief hug and wave, she headed to the car. I closed the door, sagging against it. Shoving her conversation out of my head was step one in unwinding. I didn’t want to think about her or Jake or anything. Because I was alone. For an entire weekend.

Despite Nadia’s teasing about pounding twink ass, she was not wrong. I scheduled it like clockwork, which was how I kept each part of my life in separate boxes. Every weekend when my kids were gone, I hooked up. I was already a little turned on knowing what was to come, my pulse beating faster, my jeans tightening in the crotch.

That was one thing about Staten Island—there was no shortage of beautiful men who liked a thick cock up their ass. And thankfully a lot of them weren’t looking for anything but a quick fuck.

I grabbed my phone and opened up the Grindr app. My dashboard was a smorgasbord of torsos in various sizes, shapes, and colors. I bypassed some guys I’d met before because repeat hookups and forming attachments was not my thing. A couple messages came in, but I ignored them. I liked initiating the conversations.

My eyes caught on a guy named Staff Sgt, and I paused. Once upon a time I’d been a Staff Sergeant too. Long ago. In a life that didn’t even feel like mine anymore. I shook off the thought and focused on the task at hand. A task that would result in me getting my dick sucked.

Staff Sgt’s pic was of his torso, and even though this entire borough was full of gym rats, his washboard abs and dog tag tattoo stood out like a beacon. He probably had a dozen messages in his inbox right now.

His profile indicated he was interested in “right now”, so meeting was a possibility. I glanced at his interests.
Look good and know how to spell.

When I found my lips forming something like a smile, I messaged him.

I paused. Normally I’d say,
got a face pic?
But Prince Abs probably expected full sentences.

I sent it and waited.

A sound filled my kitchen and it took me a minute to realize I’d laughed. I’d fucking laughed. I quickly schooled my face. No laugh lines.

Ten seconds later, another message came through.

My profile pic was my torso. I regularly worked out and wasn’t ashamed of my chest hair that was more gray than brown. I’d started graying early and now, at thirty-nine, all the hair on my body was shot through with silver. I sent the face pic I always used, one I’d taken at the beach with my kids. Aviator glasses hid my eyes in the picture, but Nadia said it made me look fuckable.

The picture came ten minutes later, and I nearly swallowed my tongue. Staff Sgt was fucking Captain America.

He was lying on a pillow, probably on his bed. His blond hair was messy, and his blue eyes were gorgeous. His full lips were turned up in a smirk that I ached to wreck. I wanted him. My mission was to get him in front of me—at my feet, on his hands and knees. I didn’t give a damn. I crossed my fingers, eyes, and everything that he wanted to bottom. He didn’t send a pic of his ass, but with that face I didn’t need one.

He didn’t reply for a minute, and I got antsy.

I stared at my phone in disbelief. I wasn’t asking about his hobbies. I wanted to know if I could fuck him. Either this guy was punking me or…

I sagged in relief and skipped giving mental energy to the fact that he’d served during the time when Don’t Ask Don’t Tell had ended.

Normally I’d say “top” and move on to the specifics of how fast I could get his pants around his ankles, but he wanted to chit-chat.

As soon as I sent it, I cringed. Everyone liked to cook. This was fucking New York.

After the message sent, I banged my head on my table. Now I sounded like I was two steps away from a retirement community. Christ. I was a landscaper by trade, but I didn’t have to share about my goddamn yard.

This was unsexy as hell.

I warred with myself. Say yes and hope for the best or let him know upfront what I wanted? I went with honesty.

An entire minute passed before he responded. I knew because I counted every second.

This time, my smile was so big it hurt. Game on.

Dominic

His profile name was Luke, and I didn’t care whether that was his real name or not. All I knew was Luke wanted to meet in an hour, which gave me fifty-five minutes to figure out what the hell I was doing since he literally lived two blocks away.

Two blocks.

I’d been back for a couple of months and I’d
never
seen this silver-fox motherfucker loping around my neighborhood. But that was New York for you. There were so many people packed in a small space minding their own business that I’d never made eye contact with anyone who didn’t know me as Nicky from Hot Bagels & More. What a claim to fame.

I plopped down on my bed and texted Garrett.
I’m about to have my first Grindr hookup. I need advice.