The One That Got Away (20 page)

The manicotti didn’t last long, nor did the wine, and David took the glasses and plates to the kitchen. When he returned to the living room, he grabbed both of Trace’s hands and hauled him up.

“What?” Trace asked with an oooph and a laugh.

“I want my cuddle time,” David claimed, pulling Trace down the hall with him back to the bedroom. The brunet was more than willing.

They dropped their clothes on the carpet and climbed onto the huge bed.

Trace rolled to his back and stretched luxuriously as David sat next to him and watched. “You’re so handsome,” David said conversationally.

Trace paused in his stretch and raised an eyebrow. “You know,” he said quietly. “I’ve heard that. A lot, actually. But it means more coming from you.”

David smiled and lay down right next to Trace and pulled on his arm. Warmed by a wave of affection swelling in his chest, Trace rolled atop David, sinking them both into the bed. Their bodies aligned from where Trace lay between David’s thighs up to their chests, and Trace teased his lips slowly, enjoying being close to David while he cajoled a long, heartfelt kiss from him.

David grinned, enjoying his lover’s weight against him. Tilting his head, he sucked at Trace’s tongue, his fingers sinking deep into the dark curtain of hair. “Fuck, you taste good.” 

“Glad you think so,” Trace murmured, leisurely kissing his lover again and again.

David basked in the warmth of Trace’s body and couldn’t overcome the sated lethargy that demanded he just drift for awhile. “Hold me while we sleep?”

Trace rolled to his side after one last kiss and curled his arms around David, pulling the other man against him. He tangled their legs together and turned his head so David’s tucked into the curve of his neck. “How’s that?” he asked softly.

“Perfect.”

Trace nodded and lifted his hand to caress David’s cheek. “We fit,”

he said simply. It worked in so many ways, in Trace’s opinion. As friends, as companions, as lovers. Drowsy, he started to drift off.

David felt sleep calling, but there was something important he wanted to say. He listened to Trace’s soft breathing, wondering if his lover was already asleep. The words came out softly. “I want you to stay. Stay with me.”

After a long moment Trace opened his eyes, looking into the dark.

He’d heard David. It sparked something inside him, but he was far too sleepy to pick it apart. Instead he squeezed David gently. Reassured, David fell asleep. He was where he wanted to be.

HOURS later, the soft light of dawn began to brighten the bedroom, waking him back up. Usually the moment David’s eyes opened, he was ready for his feet to hit the floor, but waking in Trace’s arms, their bodies curled together, legs entwined, he felt no urgency to move. Brushing a 
lock of dark hair back from Trace’s face, he let his fingers linger, tracing the contours. The arch of a cheekbone, a dark brow, the full curve of Trace’s bottom lip—every detail was precious.

The whisper-soft touches slowly brought Trace awake, and his eyes fluttered open to see David looking at him tenderly. Trace’s pulse picked up. “Morning,” he murmured.

“Morning,” David returned, his lips curving as they gently touched Trace’s. “Sleep well?”

“Mmmm hmmm,” Trace answered, sliding his free hand around David’s neck. “Someone tired me out.”

David nuzzled Trace’s sleep-warm nape. “I feel like I found you just before it was time for you to leave. I don’t want to let go.”

“So you meant what you said,” Trace said slowly. “You want me to stay.” He thought it over for a few moments as David remained quiet.

“That’s an awful big step, isn’t it?” he asked seriously.

David closed his eyes, Trace close in his arms, trying not to feel like he was clinging. “I do mean it. Just the idea of going from having you here all the time to not being able to see you every day…. But the last few weeks haven’t been normal. It’s sort of like falling in love on vacation. I guess we both need to go back to our lives and see where this fits.” Pulling away slightly and forcing himself to look Trace in the eye, he said, “But I do want to try this. I want a relationship with you. I don’t want to go back to being just friends.”

Trace smiled slowly. “Me either. I think I’m going to be lonely in my apartment with just Gail for company. But I think you’re right. I want to know this isn’t just caused by constant proximity.” 

“I don’t know if constant proximity causes feelings like this, but if it does, I’d be willing to sacrifice and spend all my time with you just to keep it going.” David pressed a grin into Trace’s shoulder. “Just because you are going home doesn’t mean you couldn’t keep some stuff here, maybe spend the night occasionally….”

“How about you let me take you to dinner? This weekend?” Trace asked. “Then we can go out somewhere.”

“I think I’d rather let you take me to dinner and then stay in.” David leered comically. “I should probably warn you. I’m easy.”

Trace snorted, grinning, and leaned to kiss David lightly. “You’re on.”

“C’MON David, don’t make me get up there,” Trace wheedled, turning sideways in the chair at the decorated table. “You know what Katherine’s like.” Around the table, Matt snorted.

“This isn’t about Katherine, lover. This is about the kids over at St.

Vincent’s.” David ran his hand up Trace’s thigh under the table, squeezing. “Besides, I want to see your ass walk across that stage and know that it’s all mine,” he added in a hoarse whisper, close to Trace’s ear.

Trace closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking at the other man. He rolled his eyes, although they were affectionate. “You better not lose,” he warned, pushing out of the chair as the host called his name a second time and the audience cheered. It was the annual fund-raiser for the children’s hospital, an event of glitz and glamour, and all the biggest names in town showed up. 

“I can’t believe you’re actually throwing him to the wolves,” Matt said, raising his scotch to his lips.

David grinned, watching the hands fly up all over the room as the bidding started after the host introduced Trace. “It won’t hurt him to sweat a little. Then I can swoop in and save him like a knight in shining armor.”

“I think you’re mixing your metaphors. Superheroes swoop. Knights ride.”

David glared at his friend, kicking at him under the table. “You know what I mean.”

Ever the social butterfly, Trace hammed it up on stage, encouraging the bids. The last several years he’d brought in one of the top five or so offers, and judging by the furious bidding going on now, it looked like it would happen again. A few of the women even approached the stage to ask questions, and Trace squatted down to talk to them, smiling all the while.

David tilted his head, appreciating the stretch of fabric over Trace’s ass as he talked to a pretty brunette. The first few months of their relationship, he’d constantly tormented himself with the thought of Trace announcing that the experiment was over and he really preferred women, but all those doubts had systematically been extinguished by the steady deepening of their relationship. David had never loved this way before, and he knew now that love was returned absolutely.

“She’s making her move.” David’s shoulders tensed as Matt nudged him. The photographer nodded at the elegant blonde columnist maneuvering forward through the crowd.

There was a gaggle of women at the edge of the stage now, alternately talking and bidding as Trace flirted outrageously, driving up the bid. In the middle of it all, Trace glanced over and made eye contact 
with David, deliberately winking. Several of the women sighed and mock-swooned, drawing a warm laugh from the journalist on stage.

“God, he’s a terrible flirt. How do you stand it?” asked Patrick, who was sitting next to Matt. “I think he’s worse than me!”

“Because I know where he spends his nights.
All
his nights,” David answered, smiling fondly. His friends around the table laughed, knowing that full well.

Trace stood up and looked over the group, and out of nowhere the bid jumped significantly, gaining a lot of hostile stares from the other women. Katherine glided through to the front of the stage. “You’re not escaping me this time, Jackson,” she promised.

The food critic slid a hand into his pocket and calculatingly just barely slid his tongue over his bottom lip. “We’ll see about that, darlin’,”

Trace teased. The rest of the group started whispering and looking at them both, and two more women made bids.

Katherine looked at the host. “I bid one thousand dollars.”

Trace blinked in surprise and couldn’t stifle a small laugh.

“This is going to cost you a fortune,” Matt said, looking at Trace’s casually seductive pose.

“It’s worth every penny,” David said quietly before raising his voice.

“Twelve hundred.”

Katherine sent a scathing glare over her shoulder toward their table, thinking they were just messing with her again. “Two thousand!” She smirked, believing that would shut them up.

“Twenty-five hundred,” David came back.

Katherine narrowed her eyes and looked back at Trace accusingly. It was obvious he was really amused, eyes bright. He gave her a small smile and shrugged casually with one shoulder.

The blonde crossed her arms, starting to look more annoyed than usual. “Three thousand,” she said petulantly, drawing copious applause and hooting from the crowd. It was the highest bid seen in several years.

“You could just let her win,” Matt suggested. “It’s not like he’d actually sleep with her or anything.”

David shuddered. “I wouldn’t be sleeping with him either, if I pulled a stunt like that, and, as you know, my couch isn’t that comfortable.”

Standing, he mirrored Trace’s casual pose and leaned back against a draped column. “Five thousand dollars.”

The room erupted in gasps and catcalls, and all eyes turned on Katherine, who was really red in the face. She shot Trace a look promising torture and death, and he just chuckled, drawing more laughter.

“Five thousand dollars, going once,” the host said. After a moment she added, “Going twice,” and looked intently at Katherine, who stamped her foot and turned away, stalking back to her table. A lot of the other women grinned and looked back at David, then up to Trace, who was on stage with a silly grin on his face. “Sold!”

David strolled up to the stage, extending his hand and helping Trace down. When the brunet reached the floor, he threaded their fingers together and held on. Amid loud applause and raucous laughter and yelling, Trace grinned lovingly, pulled up close to David, and kissed him sweetly right then and there.

David’s lips curved into a smile under Trace’s. “You are going to catch no end of shit for this, you know?” he whispered to his lover, squeezing his hand.

Trace laughed and tossed his head back as the squeals and hooting echoed through the room. “Hope so,” he said. “You deserve a kiss after spending that amount of money on me.”

“I’d better get more than that,” David pouted. “Let’s go home, lover.”

As they passed Katherine, the columnist’s normally pristine look ruined by her incredulous gape, David leaned toward her. “Can’t have you getting a chance to grope my boyfriend.” Then he and Trace walked on.

“What…? How…? When did that happen?” Katherine stuttered as Matt strolled up to her side, grinning at the silhouette of his departing friends, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand.

“Months ago, but they moved in together last weekend. I think you can cross Trace off your list as the one that got away.”

RHIANNE AILE has an unhealthy relationship with her computer, iced tea, and chocolate. Growing up, she split her time between Oklahoma and Chicago, making her equally fond of horses, skyscrapers, cowboys, and men in well-tailored suits. Facilitating retreats for women and authors keeps her traveling enough to stay happy.

Visit Rhianne’s website at http://www.rhianneaile.com.

MADELEINE URBAN is a down-home Kentucky girl who’s been writing since she could hold a crayon. A longtime science fiction and fantasy fan, she loves to mix those genres with romance to get explosive, satisfying results. She lives with a partner and two canine kids, visits Disney World twice a year, and still believes dreams can come true.

Visit Madeleine’s blog at http://madeleineurban.livejournal.com/.