When layoffs hit Jim LaRue’s company, his first concern isn’t for his own job, it’s for his friend and co-worker, Tommy Graves.
Tommy’s coming off a bad year, finally made better by the purchase of a new house. Losing his job would mean losing the house, however, and his newfound lease on life. Jim can’t let that happen to the man he’s secretly come to love, so he proposes a swap to his boss—forfeit his own job to save Tommy’s.
Now suddenly out of work, Jim reluctantly accepts a job helping Tommy remodel his house. Having the work is great, but it also chafes Jim’s pride to be employed by his friend, and creates one of several obstacles in their budding romance.
Can Jim and Tommy get past their differences and finally make this swap work in their favor?
Tommy could barely wrap his head around it. Just this morning, he'd still felt as far away from making any of his fantasies about what could happen between two men--between he and Jim--as if it were a movie on the big screen, looming large as life, but completely untouchable. Now he was kissing the object of his desire for the second--third?--time today, and he hadn't even had dinner yet. Imagine what else might happen by bedtime...
Almost hyperventilating at the sudden stream of visuals that conjured up, his cock the hardest it had ever been, Tommy moaned repeatedly, instinctively spreading his legs, trying to get closer to Jim--and it worked. Jim groaned low into Tommy's mouth as he settled in place, rocking against him, the fit natural and perfect.
It hit Tommy suddenly that Jim seemed a little bit too okay with this, just too good at it to be doing it for the first time. Was he gay? He turned his head abruptly to the side to try to get breath to speak, but now Jim had access to his neck and made full use of it, nibbling and licking and sucking his way down to the magic spot where shoulder and neck and throat all came together. Tommy found himself arching to give him more room to work before he realized what he was doing.
"Jim." His voice came out needy and wanting, not sounding like himself at all.
"Mmm," came the answering murmur against his neck and--oh!--the vibration went straight to his cock, thrusting for counter-pressure against the matching ridge not in the least disguised by Jim's sweats.
What was he trying to do? Stop?
Why, you idiot?
Why indeed. Talking was overrated.
Tommy ran his hands down Jim's back, learning for the first time what it felt like to have a strong, muscular back under his touch. When he reached the elastic waistband, he paused, unsure of whether he should go any farther. Why not? Go for it, a hedonistic part of himself piped up.
His hands apparently agreed, and slid that extra distance, leaving the waistband behind and tracing over Jim's taut ass. Full and--he squeezed--tight, it felt like pure muscle under his untutored fingers. Their heights were just different enough that Jim was having to bend to get at Tommy's neck, and as he squeezed, Jim gasped, throwing his head back with the force of his reaction. This left Jim's neck open to exploration, and Tommy wasted no time in running his tongue from the dip between his collarbones, up his Adam's apple and under his chin. Jim tasted clean with just a hint of salt, but somehow very male. Mouthwatering.
Jim's questioning gaze met his from just inches away. This was Tommy's chance to talk, to ask Jim the millions of questions running through his head. But all Tommy wanted at that moment was another kiss--and he took it, lifting his head, showing Jim without words that he was as into this as Jim was, if not nearly as experienced.
That's right. That's what he wanted to ask Jim.
He pulled back again. "Are you gay?"
In retrospect, it wasn't the brightest question he'd ever asked, considering their erections were still nestled together and they'd just pulled their tongues out of each other's mouths...