Visions of Destiny (Complete Series) Read online

  Green Eyes stopped walking. “You never waited to hear my answer.”

  Stopping as well, Mike turned back to look at him, frowning slightly. He didn’t like it when people played with him. He didn’t say anything and simply waited. After a few seconds, Green Eyes shrugged and looked away, and there was just a trace of hesitation in his voice when he said, “So, my apartment is closer than yours.” He indicated the street they had just crossed. “Just half a block that way. Want to come up?”

  To his own surprise, Mike answered with a small nod.

  They were quiet as they walked down the street, then up three flights of stairs in an old but well-maintained building. The keys jingled in Green Eyes’ hand when he unlocked the door. He pushed it open and held it wide for Mike to walk in, closing and locking it after him. He turned on a muted table light and Mike looked around with undisguised curiosity. The apartment was smaller than his own, but it seemed pretty nice.

  “This way,” Green Eyes said, passing by Mike. Green Eyes kicked off his shoes and took off his jacket, laying it across the back of an armchair. Mike did the same before following him down a hallway. Green Eyes glanced back once, his smile both encouraging and a little shy.

  They entered the bedroom. The glow of streetlights poured in through the window, revealing a room that was tidy without being overly neat, with a comfortable, lived-in look. Somehow, seeing the double bed finally sobered Mike up, and for the first time since he had approached the bar, he felt a thread of hesitation.

  As though sensing Mike’s sudden uncertainty, Green Eyes turned to him and grabbed his ass, pulling Mike hard against his body. His mouth descended on Mike’s, incredibly soft lips pressing almost harshly enough to bruise. Mike pushed back, parting his lips to run his tongue against Green Eyes’ mouth. He tasted of beer, and salt, and a bit of something spicy that drew Mike’s tongue further inside to slide against Green Eyes’ own.

  Mike’s shirt was the first to fall under Green Eyes’ hands. He’d been so caught up in the kiss that he had barely even noticed those sneaky fingers unbuttoning, pulling and tugging until large, warm hands caressed his bare chest. Not wanting to lose any ground, Mike tugged Green Eyes’ shirt out of his pants. The next few moments teetered on the edge of frantic heat as they tore at each other’s clothes. They were soon naked in front of each other, and the world seemed to come to a standstill.

  In the indirect light coming in from the street, Green Eyes’ body was all smooth planes and hard flesh, his cock standing at half-mast in a nest of dark curls. Mike licked his lips, grabbed Green Eyes’ shoulders and drew him forward for another desperate kiss. Green Eyes ran his hands over Mike’s back and ass, kneading, pushing him closer still. His skin was burning everywhere they touched.

  They fell onto the bed without their mouths ever parting. Rolling their bodies so that he was on top, Mike grabbed Green Eyes’ hands and held them above his head. He pressed his hips down, his cock sliding alongside Green Eyes’ and pulling a groan from him.

  “Harder,” Green Eyes breathed against Mike’s lips.

  Mike was all too happy to comply. He ground down against him, their cocks pressed together between them, both their stomachs slick with precome. Green Eyes freed his hands and dropped them to Mike’s back again, clutching and scratching at his shoulders. They rocked against each other until they were both panting, until simple friction wasn’t enough anymore. Mike pressed his face into the crook of Green Eyes’ neck and licked a long strip up his skin, sweat and lust tingling on the tip of his tongue.

  “Do you have…”

  He didn’t need to finish.

  “Yeah, just a sec…”

  Mike rolled off him, lying on his back and trying to catch his breath while Green Eyes stretched to the side. He pulled the night-table drawer open and fumbled inside it for a few moments before turning back to Mike, a strip of condoms and a tube of lube clutched in his hand.

  For a couple of seconds, their eyes met and a question passed between them. Before either of them said a word, though, Green Eyes kneeled up. He tore one of the condom wrappers open and dropped the rest of the strip on the bed along with the lube. Taking hold of Mike’s cock, he pumped his fist over it a few times then rolled the condom down.

  Mike bit down on his bottom lip and propped himself up on his elbows. Green Eyes picked up the lube again and reached behind himself with slick fingers. Mike’s hands clenched on the sheets, and he blinked very fast. He couldn’t see what Green Eyes was doing, but he could imagine it all too well, and the images flitting through his mind caused his cock to bob up and down over his stomach. What he could see was the pleasure-pain of the stretch and burn sliding over Green Eyes’ face and brightening it.

  Mike had to touch him, then. He ran his hand over a muscled leg, then along a beautiful uncut cock. He pumped it a couple of times in his closed fist before moving up along abs that trembled beneath his fingertips. He scratched at a dusty pink nipple, making it harden beneath his touch, and continued upward still to cup the back of Green Eyes’ neck. A gentle pull was enough to draw Green Eyes forward for a kiss. He moaned into Mike’s mouth, and the sound curled around Mike’s balls like a warm hand.

  Panting, Green Eyes broke away and moved forward to kneel over Mike. He held his gaze as he did so, capturing it as tightly as he did Mike’s cock in his fist. Mike hissed out a breath when Green Eyes lined up and bore down, his body yielding to the intrusion inch by inch. The heat surrounding Mike’s cock felt searing; the tightness made him gasp. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who had only had his hand for company for a long while.

  Slow, shallow movements up and down Mike’s cock took Green Eyes lower and lower still, until Mike was balls deep inside him and breathing hard.

  “Ready?” Green Eyes asked, the word catching in his throat and coming out half moan, half plea.

  Mike wished he could have come up with a clever answer, but already Green Eyes was moving, rising up, supporting himself with both hands on Mike’s chest. He slammed back down without warning. Mike cried out. Green Eyes did the same thing again and again, starting slowly but progressively faster until he was riding Mike at a gallop. Each thrust of his body down made pleasure spark through Mike’s body, building up tension and need.

  Feeling incredibly slow and uncoordinated, Mike clutched Green Eyes’ hips. It was all he could do to just hang on, enjoy the tightness around his cock, the sight of that strong body dancing on top of him, the low, grunting noises that rose from that long, stretched-out throat. One of those grunts came out as words.

  “Touch me.”

  Mike reacted without a thought, dropping his hand to the beautiful hard cock that bounced against Green Eyes’ stomach with each thrust down. He closed his fist around the flushed length and started stroking it to the same harsh rhythm established by Green Eyes. Every time he reached the tip, he swiped the leaking precome and used it to ease the next down stroke.

  It struck Mike out of nowhere that alcohol rarely helped to make good decisions, but in this one instance it had given him the push he needed for what was turning out to be a pretty good idea—and if things continued the way they were going, what would be in the morning a very nice memory.

  “Getting close,” he grunted, pleasure sparking down his spine and straight to his balls. “Don’t come yet.”

  Green Eyes missed a beat. Mouth open and panting hard, he gave Mike a questioning look.

  “I want…” Mike moaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before he was able to finish. “I want you to do me.”

  Green Eyes groaned. He dropped his hand to his cock and tightened it over Mike’s. Maybe Mike wasn’t the only one who was close.

  Very close.

  The next time Green Eyes slammed down, Mike cried out again, like he had on that first thrust. Another slam, and his hips were surging up of their own accord, pushing deeper yet into that tight ass and drawi
ng a garbled shout from Green Eyes’ lips. With pleasure overwhelming him, Mike thrust up a few more times. Green Eyes bent down low over him, and Mike released a long moan against his neck.

  Even when his spent cock slipped out, he continued to tremble from the aftershocks of bliss. Above him, Green Eyes was shaking just as much, if for another reason. His cock was still hard inside their tightly linked hands, precome leaking from the tip.

  Green Eyes pulled away, far enough that Mike had to let go of his cock. Mike could feel him dispose of the used condom, could hear the whisper of tearing foil, and the snap of a bottle being uncapped.

  “Roll over,” Green Eyes said, voice low and gravelly.

  Mike shook a little harder from that voice and rolled onto his stomach, arms folded beneath his chin. With pleasure still burning through him, every nerve ending felt as though it was on fire. The push of thick fingers inside him caused him to close his eyes and clench his fists tight. He wanted to tell Green Eyes to get on with it—he couldn’t take much more—but apparently, neither could Green Eyes. Moving between Mike’s legs, Green Eyes curled a hand around Mike’s waist and drew him to his knees. Head low and ass in the air, Mike waited for the first touch of that lovely cock. He didn’t have to wait long.

  Green Eyes pressed inside him in one long, smooth push. Mike buried a moan into the pillow at the burning stretch. He tried to stay still as Green Eyes started moving inside him, but he couldn’t help pushing back against each thrust. Strong hands held on to his hips, pulling him ever closer, bruising him in the best possible ways.

  To Mike’s over-stimulated senses, it seemed to last forever, and every second was agonizing perfection. The clock on the nightstand told a different story, however, and only moments had passed when Green Eyes collapsed onto Mike’s back. With a grunt, Mike lay down again, trapping his semi-hard cock beneath him.

  “Just so we’re clear,” Green Eyes panted against the back of Mike’s neck, “I was already about to come…” With a grunt, he rolled off Mike and lay next to him. “So this is not representative of my stamina levels.”

  Mike’s laugh was breathless, almost wheezing. He turned his head toward Green Eyes and grinned at him. “I really wasn’t complaining.”

  Green Eyes laughed, too, the sound rumbling in a way that slid over Mike’s skin and gave him goose bumps.

  “I’ll go in a moment,” he started, then his grin widened. “As soon as I can feel my legs.”

  Laughing again, Green Eyes reached down and pulled the sheets up before turning over. His next words were half muffled by the pillow beneath him. “No rush. Just as long as you don’t hog the covers.”

  He would stay for another minute or two, Mike told himself, a little drowsy. He would only rest his eyes for a little bit. This felt nice. And warm. He liked the warmth. Or so he thought as he drifted into sleep.

  Hours later, the warmth was still just as nice, creeping up Mike’s neck and cheek. It was pleasant right up to the point when the sunlight reached his eyes. He turned his face into the pillow. Slow, even breaths caressed his forehead, and he blinked his eyes open.

  The face lying inches from his was still familiar in the light of day, but without deep green eyes lighting it, it felt different, too. Mike raised his hand, reaching for a cheek darkened by the shadow of stubble, but changed his mind before he made contact. He had asked for a night, and Green Eyes had given Mike that. It would be better if he left without a fuss. And without waking Green Eyes.

  Quietly, slowly, Mike slipped out of the bed and picked up his clothes. He carried them out of the bedroom and dressed in the living room. His gaze kept returning to the open bedroom door. If he just—

  Shaking his head, he finished getting dressed. It was better this way.

  He hesitated again before slipping out of the apartment. There was a stack of mail on the low table by the door. He could take a peek at the address and at least put a name to those beautiful eyes and that amazing night.

  His hand clenched. He stepped out without looking any closer at the envelopes. This was the right thing to do.

  As soon as he stepped into the street, he groaned. The hearts and pink decorations had started appearing more than three weeks earlier, but they seemed to have multiplied overnight, and it was now impossible to ignore that it was Valentine’s Day.

  Mike shoved his hands in his jacket pockets to hold it closed without zipping it up and walked back in the direction of the club, trying his best not to look at the storefronts that lined the streets. He was going home, he told himself firmly, and he wouldn’t come out again until it wasn’t Valentine’s Day anymore. He was fairly certain many single people would be as depressed today as he already felt. Few of them, however, had the misfortune of not only being single on what was supposed to be a romantic holiday, but also of being alone to celebrate their birthday.

  He retrieved his car from where he had parked, two streets behind the club, and drove home. The first order of business was a shower, and he took full advantage of the pressure jets installed in three sides of his shower stall; they had been one of the main reasons why he had picked this apartment almost three years earlier. The water massaged the tension right out of his body, but he couldn’t help think of Green Eyes’ hands, and how good they had felt on him.

  Before he knew it, his own hand had somehow found its way to his cock. He closed his eyes and rested his free hand against the cold tiles for support. Images of the night flashed through his mind as he brought himself to a quick orgasm. As he stood under the spray of hot water, head bowed and breathing hard, he almost wished he hadn’t left so quickly.

  He had never done this before—picked up a guy for a one-night stand, or allowed himself to be picked up. Sex for the sake for sex had never been his thing. And yet, in this one instance, even if he knew it had been the alcohol pushing him along with the prospect of another birthday spent on his own, he couldn’t manage to regret his decision.

  A damp towel still around his waist, he crawled into bed. With any luck, he’d sleep his Saturday away and not have to deal with Valentine’s Day or his birthday.

  His stomach, sadly enough, had other ideas, and woke him at midday with growls of protest. He got dressed, warmed leftovers in the microwave, and ate while listening to his voicemail.

  He had twelve missed messages and a handful of texts, most from friends, one from his mother, another one from his father and stepmom, and a voicemail and text message from his sister. Most of them asked what his plans were for the day and offered dinner and company. Brett, who had set him up with the blind date the previous night, offered birthday greetings and an apology; clearly, he had already heard back from Timmy. His message was the only one Mike answered right away, the words typed on the small keyboard with a vengeful finger.

  If you ever try to set me up with someone again I swear I will tell all our friends you’re gay and too closeted to admit it until they all try to throw guys at you.

  After pressing ‘Send,’ Mike moved on to the last text message, which was from Daisy. He read it three times, his frown deepening each time.

  Happy Bday! I remembered my promise, you should get them soon. Good luck!

  What promise, he wondered as he stared at the message. What was it he was going to get? And good luck with what?

  The more he thought about the cryptic message, the more he had a feeling that he ought to know the answers to these questions. Somehow, Daisy’s ‘good luck’ echoed in his head as though a man had said the words instead, not that long ago. If he thought about it hard enough, he might just remember who and when. Or he could simply text her back and ask what she had meant.

  He was still trying to figure it out by himself when a light buzzing sound drew him to the intercom. He pressed the button, fully expecting to hear one of his friends’ voices when he asked, “Who is it?”

  Instead, a man’s voice replied over the crack
ling of the static, “Delivery for Michael Dutton.”

  “Second floor.”

  He buzzed the man in. Moments later, he opened the door and could only stare at the pair of deep green eyes that stared right back at him.

  “How did you get my address?” he asked, the words stumbling past his lips before he even knew it. He blinked, then frowned. “Are you stalking me?”

  Green Eyes let out a startled laugh. “Stalking you? Jeez, get over yourself already. You were great, but you think I’d deliver flowers to the thousand guys called Michael in town just on the off-chance it was your real name?”

  “Flowers?” Mike repeated, confused, and wanted to slap himself over the head when he noticed the vase Green Eyes held in front of him, a bouquet of red tulips carefully arranged inside it. There was also the fact that he was wearing a jacket embroidered with the name “Pam’s Flowers” and a logo over his heart.

  “Oh. Yeah. Flowers.”

  Feeling awkward and a little bit on the slow side, he took the vase Green Eyes was handing him, and turned around to find a place for it.

  “I need a signature,” Green Eyes said behind him. “Can I—”

  “Come in, yeah.” The mental slapping continued. Mike felt almost as tipsy as he had been the previous night. “Just let me put these down.”

  He heard the front door close behind him. He finally put the vase down on the coffee table and pulled up the card; all it said was, “Happy Birthday from Daisy.” So that was what she had meant. His throat felt very dry, suddenly, though he couldn’t have said why.

  He turned back to find Green Eyes in the middle of the entryway. A clipboard in hand, he was trying—and failing—to appear as though he wasn’t checking out Mike’s apartment, and Mike was suddenly hyperaware of the mess, his jacket still on the floor where he had dropped it that morning, his shoes lying haphazardly just beyond it.

  “Sorry about the mess,” he said, feeling heat creep up his face as he returned to the entryway and took the clipboard and pen. “And about the accusations. I’m a bit hungover still, I think.”