Shatter (Unbreakable Bonds 2)

Clearing his throat, Snow set the mug down. “It’s not always one way or the other. You do get that, right?”

“No, I don’t actually. From things you and Lucas have said, I got the feeling it was one or the other. Come on. Fill me in.”

Snow shook his head. “Fuck no. Rent some porn. I happen to know your wife loves gay porn. Like really loves gay porn.” Snow paused and smirked at his friend, causing Rowe to clench his jaw as if tensing against whatever twisted mess was about to leave Snow’s tongue. “You do know she asked me to film something, right? That time we were all out at that steakhouse and I picked up that blond waiter?”

“I remember.” Rowe groaned, his shoulders slumping again. “Unfortunately. You left us with the check and started making out with him before you were even out the door. What’s funny is you think I don’t already know about the porn and my own damn wife.”

Snow lifted an eyebrow, intrigued. “You two watch it together?”

Green eyes rolled. “No way in hell am I giving you any wank material.”

“Too late.” Snow gave Rowe his most wicked, teasing grin.

“Right. You don’t like sex with women.”

“Oh Rowe, do we need a lesson on porn and watching versus action? I enjoy good, straight porn at times. Admittedly, it’s rare.” He picked a bottle cap off the table. “When something is hot, it’s hot.”

“You’re telling me…” Rowe’s expression went serious and he leaned his forearms on the table, edging just a little bit closer. “You’re telling me, you could be with a woman?”

“No. I learned a long time ago that doesn’t work for me.” Snow had never found himself interested in anything beyond friendship with women. He liked everything about men. Liked their harder edges, their calloused hands, and masculine scents…their ability to take rough handling. He knew there were women out there who liked the latter, but he liked dick. Always had.

Recently, his mind had been going back to a particular man who was off-limits. That damn paramedic managed to catch his eye every time he was passing through the ER or the break room or just about anywhere around the hospital. His hands itched to grab the man and find out if those lovely muscles on display in his form-fitting black uniform were as strong as they looked.

But Jude Torres was untouchable. Snow didn’t fuck those he worked with. That rule insured that his personal life stayed out of the hospital. His brain understood that, but even now, just thinking about those dark eyes and crooked grin, made Snow hard. Jude had a look about him, like his easy-going, smiling exterior masked pure, unadulterated fire.

Snow shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position without having to adjust himself. He toyed with the bottle cap, turning it over with the tips of his fingers. “What I’m telling you,” he continued, watching Rowe. “Is that what we like to watch doesn’t always coincide with what we like to do. You watch gay porn with your wife, but you don’t do guys, right?”

His friend’s nod was slow and contemplative. “I get it.” Rowe looked up and his expression’s odd mix of curious and concern disappeared into a genuine smile as he shoved out the chair next to him.

Snow followed his gaze to find Ian pushing through the crowd toward their table. Something about that kid had always put their group at ease—from the very first time Lucas and Snow had seen him.

It looked like the heat in this bar was getting to him as well because he peeled off his stylish jacket and draped it over his arm. His light brown hair was gelled into a style that looked messy and probably took him twenty minutes to get right. Everything about Ian always flowed together like it was effortless and knowing Ian, it mostly was. He had an impressive, distinctive flair when it came to creating a whole picture. Snow went shopping with him and Ian knew exactly what would go with what before he even took it off the rack. Hell, he let Ian pick out most of his suits now. It certainly saved him the trouble of staying up to date on fashion. Not that he really cared about that. He just liked to know that he looked good. Plus, he loathed shopping and only Ian’s genuine clothes euphoria made those outings tolerable.

“I don’t know why I thought dressing for January was a good idea,” Ian’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he sat next to Rowe and picked up the house cabernet he’d left on the table. He sipped it and grimaced just as he had the first time he’d tried it. “But I’m still having a good time. This place is fun!” He set down the glass and pushed it away with one finger, eyeing the liquid like it might leap out and attack his taste buds again.