Contemporary M/M Erotic Romance.
Blurb:Gold Coast, Australia. Harper Cole is immediately attracted to the new fireman at his Golden Beach Stationhouse, Sax Peters. But the six-foot-five hunk is fifteen years younger and may be a much more smoldering, sexy man than Harper can handle.
Surfers Paradise, Australia.
"Now that's what I call a wet dream walking." Grant moaned and cupped his balls.
Harper Cole shifted his gaze to the bar. Oh yeah. The tall, sexy, sun-kissed god turned slowly, giving him the full gamut of a delightfully muscular body. His white shirt, opened to the waist, contrasted against his suntanned six-pack and framed deliciously bitable flat nipples. Harper's gaze rested hungrily on the unbuttoned jeans, slung low on the man's hips, showing a band of white boxers. He licked his lips at the prominent bulge and lifted his stare, slowly, taking in every inch of him.
The guy met his gaze with a slow smile and lifted his glass. Fuck. Harper's mouth went dry. He lifted his beer in response.
"I must be dreaming; he's coming over!" Grant gasped, gripping Harper's arm.
Harper groaned. "Don't, for fuck's sake, say anything stupid. Be cool."
The guy sauntered toward them and Harper took in the man's face. Hell, with eyes as blue as the ocean, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a romance novel. He stopped in front of them and inclined his head. Instantly, Harper's cock strained against the front of his jeans.
"I know you; I saw your picture on the firemen's calendar. You're Harper, Mister July. Fuck, you've got a great ass," he said in a voice like dark chocolate. He held out his hand. "Sax Peters."
Harper shook the offered hand firmly. "Harper Cole―this is my friend, Grant Smith."
"Grant," Sax said, ignoring Grant's outstretched hand. "I've been transferred to the fire department at Golden Beach; I believe you're based there." He grinned at Harper and rested a hip on the bar seat beside the round, glass-top table.
Harper swallowed hard. Imagine working with him, I'll be hard all day long. "Yeah, been there five years. How come you didn't get into the calendar; you've got a pretty fine ass yourself."
"I was in the Sydney one, Mister January. So . . . what's it like up here; any trouble being gay and a fireman? Other guys got any problems with you?"
Harper ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Some of the older men have a problem, but here on the coast, it's tolerated better than in the country."
"Sounds good. Can I buy you a drink? Another beer?" He glanced past Harper and raised a brow at Grant. "You don't mind if I steal Harper for the night, do you? I wanna ask him about the ground rules at the depot."
"No, you chat. I'll buy the next round," Grant said and then turned toward the bar.
"Sorry about that; he's not my type." Sax winked. "Now you, well I hope we can be friends."
Harper's legs turned to jelly. Why would a stunning, six-foot-five Adonis be interested in him? Sure, he kept in shape, but at thirty-seven, he wasn't what a man in his twenties would be craving. He looked into Sax's intelligent, oh-so-blue eyes and coughed. "Me? Hell, what have I got that could possibly interest a guy like you?"
"Experience―on the job, and . . . I'm guessing between the sheets. You've got a hard body . . . I like that and I like a man to look like a man . . . rugged, not pretty like me," Sax said, moving closer.
Holy cow. Harper inhaled Sax's rich, musky scent mixed with a hint of sandalwood. He cleared his throat. "Where are you living?"
"I've got an apartment overlooking the beach at Miami. I like to run on the sand at daybreak, keeps me fit."
Concentrating on taking the next breath, Harper smiled. "That's where I live. I'm in the Waves building. I run every morning too. Strange we haven't met before."
"I moved into the Waves building this morning. This is getting better by the second. So meet me at six and we'll run together. My shift starts at nine."
"Sure and another coincidence― it looks like you're on my shift too."
"Sweet." Sax grinned and inclined his head toward the crowded floor. "Wanna dance?"
Running his fingers over the beer coaster on the table, Harper shrugged. "I'm not comfortable dancing."
"You're in a gay club, so you're out. Come on, it's a slow one; come and press that hard body against me." Sax leaned in close.
Harper looked wildly around for Grant. Sax smiled wickedly, grabbed Harper's hand, and pulled him onto the dance floor.
Harper hung back. "I'm not sure I can do this."
"Put your arms around me and sway," Sax said, grasping Harper's butt cheeks and pulling him flush. "You smell like sin."
They moved slowly, the other dancers closed around them and the lights dimmed. Harper moved his feet and found his hands closing around the back of Sax's neck, his fingers brushing the dark hair curling at the nape. One dance ran into three. Sax's long fingers caressed his ass and the man's hot breath brushed Harper's cheek. Harper's cock ached and pressed hard behind the zipper of his jeans.
The next second, Sax kissed him, dipping his scorching tongue deep into Harper's mouth. He groaned and without thinking, ground against Sax, bringing a chuckle from his lips.
"You are so fucking hot. Come home with me," Sax moaned into Harper's mouth.
I must be dreaming. "I'd like to, but not tonight. I promised Grant I'd run him home by ten. I can't just dump him and go off with you."
"Is he your lover?"
Harper tipped back his head and gazed into Sax's pools of sin. "No, we're just friends. I'm not seeing anyone just now."
"Oh yes you are," Sax said with a grin. "You're seeing me. Tomorrow morning at six, I'll meet you on the beach and then we'll have breakfast. If you're game, you can take a shower at my place. I give a great blowjob." Sax ran the wet tip of his tongue across Harper's mouth and stepped away.
Harper touched his lips, still aflame from the kiss. "I think I'll stick with the run for now. See you in the morning."
"Good, then I'll let you get back to your friend. Don't want to keep the poor boy out late; it's almost ten."
He stood frozen to the spot; the smell of Sax clung to his body. He watched him stroll away. The man had the sexiest walk he'd ever seen. Hell, his jeans molded to every hard muscle in his long thighs. Someone bumped into him and he lowered his gaze and moved self-consciously off the dance floor. Grant was waiting at their table, grinning like a monkey.
"What are you smiling about? Never seen a man dance before?"
"Fuck, you've hit the jackpot. Did you invite him back to your place for a drink?" Grant pushed a beer toward Harper.
Sipping from the icy bottle, Harper looked at Grant and raised a brow. "I might have if I didn't have to drive your sorry ass home. I'm seeing him in the morning. He likes to run too. He's on the same shift as me. God willing, I might get another chance. He's one hot bad ass."
"Yeah, the barman mentioned Sax owns one of the Harleys parked outside. He came with the guy with the tattoos and leather over there by the wall," Grant said. "Also said he was here last night, went upstairs a couple of times. You need to be careful; this one's a player."
Harper shot his friend a grin. "I'm always careful."