Hope on the Rocks (Rainbow Cove)

“You do a lot of that?” The swift surge of jealousy that made my back tighten was ridiculous. If he wanted to play Daddy to a whole pack of twinks, that wasn’t my business.

“Hook up? Some. Not much else to do around here, and I’m way too busy to date, even if I was so inclined.”

“Ah.” I liked how unflappable he was, how he didn’t let my obviously judgmental questions rile him. It was an admirable quality.

“You’d get over the jerk quicker if you let yourself get a rebound fuck or ten.”

“I’ve tried,” I groaned, voice low from how damn much I wanted to try his unspoken offer to help with that plan. “Not ten. But I tried. It’s been almost two years. I haven’t been celibate.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you need to try harder.” We turned from Lakeview toward downtown. My place was on the other side of town, near the beachfront’s newer developments, and we couldn’t get there soon enough as far as I was concerned. Adam’s very nearness was unsettling, as was the way he represented everything I’d spent years tamping down. Each whiff of his woodsy scent made resisting that much harder.

Spontaneous bad decisions from here on out. Too bad I was sober now and back to careful composure.

“Or try something new in that department?” he suggested next. “Maybe the issue has to do with those kinky secrets of yours.”

“I don’t have kinky secrets,” I lied and wished it were true.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to tell. My friends all think I’m boring as fuck. Vanilla, like I ain’t ever thought about trying other flavors.”

“But you have?” I’d already guessed that, and my traitorous cock was half-hard with wanting to know every sexy detail of those hookups he spoke so easily about. Did the twinks call him Daddy? Did he make them moan and beg? My hands trembled in my lap. I wanted to know it all.

“Now who’s curious?”

“Sorry.” I stared out the window as we passed the little downtown stores and entered the older residential neighborhood closer to the shore.

“Nah, it’s fine. I don’t mind telling you. We started having these monthly leather nights at the Rainbow Tavern. And other events. A certain clientele showed up, if you catch my drift. Got me curious.”

“Thought you didn’t take customers home?” Oops. Forgot I wasn’t supposed to care.

“Jealous?” He laughed. “And no, I haven’t picked up any hookups on leather nights. Too busy tending bar. But I got a lot more adventurous on the apps, what categories I was willing to explore.”

“Good for you.” I suddenly felt like I was back in college—hearing about everyone else’s fun while I was in my dorm, studying.

“Hey, you can explore too, you know. Whatever you had going with the jerk, the dynamic’s probably more common than you think.”

“We weren’t like that.” I couldn’t help my groan. I’d counted our very tepid sex life as a trade-off for a great family situation, but after the relationship imploded, I’d wondered if maybe I should have at least asked for something different. But I wasn’t telling Adam all that.

“Even more reason to experiment.” Somehow Mr. Mind Reader seemed to know anyway. “And I happen to know where you could start.”

God, his grin was so damn tempting and made my cock pulse against my fly. The ocean was on our right, blue and vast, but his eyes were even more compelling than the gorgeous scenery. I was so screwed.

“We’re not hooking up.” I tried to sound like I meant it.

“So you’ve said.” Adam turned into the condo complex where I lived, right near the rocky beachfront. “Anyway, invitation’s open, and I’m not one to blab about what you like in the bedroom.”

An electric tingle raced up my spine. I hadn’t even confirmed his suspicions, but somehow he knew. And I didn’t doubt for a second that he could deliver exactly what I craved. I clearly remembered the first cocktail he’d mixed for me last night. It had satisfied tastebuds I didn’t even know I had. I fixed my gaze on his hands, those long, thick fingers and wide palms, and their easy grip on the steering wheel. I wanted them on me, doing every dirty thing I’d ever dared imagined and more that I hadn’t let myself dream up.

But I never talked about my fantasies, not even to guys I’d been intimate with. I’d always been excellent at resisting temptation, last night’s chocolate martini indulgence notwithstanding. So I called up my best doctor-to-patient manner and said, “I appreciate that.”

“Home at last,” he announced as he pulled even with my condo, tone bone-dry. “Safe and sound.”

I turned to face him. His generous mouth had turned down on one side and his eyes had lost some of that bay-blue sparkle. Damn it. Now I wanted his warm, flirty smile back. “Thank you. For the ride. And last night.”