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  Craig took his turn in the shower while Mitch lay on his bed, looking for something good on TV and trying to keep his mind off the fact that only a few feet away Craig was naked and wet.

  It didn’t help much when Craig came out with the towel wrapped around his waist. “Forgot to take my clothes in.” He gave Mitch a small smile, then reached down, grabbed his suitcase off the floor, and flopped it onto the bed. He dug around in it for a moment as Mitch tried to keep his eyes averted. But when Craig dropped his towel and bent over to step into his briefs, Mitch gasped. His gaze zeroed in on the sexiest ass he’d ever seen in his life. Muscular and round with a light dusting of hair, the skin was paler than the rest of Craig’s body, and Mitch’s cock was hard as a rock in seconds.

  Mitch rolled off the bed and slipped into the bathroom without another word. He stripped, turned the water on, and stepped under the spray, his hand on his dick. He needed to deal with this immediately or he’d be in hell all night.

  He squeezed some soap into his hand and sighed as he fisted himself, thrusting hard and fast. There was no slow buildup. No time to enjoy the sensation. He needed to get off before Craig wondered what was taking him so long.

  His breathing grew ragged and he braced his other arm against the tiled wall in the shower as he grew closer to release. His balls pulled up tight as the image of Craig’s ass flashed in front of him, and he moaned as he came all over his hand. Pleasure rolled through him and he moaned again, unable to contain it all.

  Craig’s name was on the tip of his tongue just as the door opened, and he moaned again quietly.

  “Oh shit! Sorry, Mitchell,” Craig said, clearly embarrassed. “Just wanted to grab my brush.” The door was shut before Mitch even glimpsed Craig.

  Fuck. Had he seen Mitch? It sounded like he had. How? He glanced to the shower curtain and realized it was gaping open at the front, just where he was leaning his arm. Craig had seen him. With his release all over his hand.

  And why the thought of that turned him on more than worried him, Mitch had no idea. He showered quickly and realized he’d done the same thing Craig had, forgetting to bring in his clothes. He dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. His hand hovered over the knob for a moment before he gathered his courage and opened the door.

  Craig sat on his bed, dressed in a pair of basketball shorts, flipping channels. He glanced at Mitch and smiled sheepishly. “Hey.” He paused to clear his throat. “Um, sorry about that.” Craig’s face went from pink to fire-engine red.

  He shrugged. “Not a big deal. I mean, it’s not like you don’t know I jack off.” He kept his voice light.

  Craig’s eyes grew round and he nodded, swallowing hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and Mitch tried not to imagine what Craig’s skin would feel like under his lips. He tore his gaze away and grabbed his bag, then escaped back into the bathroom. Dammit. Why did Craig always have to look so sexy?

  He dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt before coming back into the room just as the pizza arrived.

  Even though Craig had asked when he placed the pizza order, the delivery man forgot plates, so they just sat on Craig’s bed and ate over the box. Craig finally found an old movie on TV, and they ate in an awkward silence until Mitch gave in and went to bed.

  Chapter Four

  Mitch

  MITCH LAY in bed for at least an hour, unable to quiet his thoughts.

  “Are you asleep?”

  He rolled over onto his side to look at Craig and was surprised to see him staring right at him. “No.”

  “Why can’t you sleep?” Craig’s voice was husky, and Mitch took a shaky breath.

  He couldn’t tell Craig the truth—that he couldn’t stop thinking about the way they’d touched earlier. That this damn trip had been a bad idea. That knowing Craig had seen him in the shower turned him on. So he deflected the question.

  “Why can’t you?” he asked.

  A low chuckle crossed the space between the two beds, making it seem to Mitch that Craig was closer than he really was.

  “You really want to know?”

  Mitch swallowed hard. Did he? “Yes.” His voice was so quiet, he wondered if Craig heard him.

  Craig sat up and swung his legs over the side, his eyes twinkling in the swash of moonlight peeking through slightly open drapes. “Have you ever wanted to….” He ran his hand through his hair.

  Mitch’s mouth went dry, and he licked his lips as he pulled up on his elbows and looked at Craig.

  “Shit. I don’t know how to say this. I’m probably going to just fuck this up,” Craig said, beginning to ramble. “I’m not good with words like you.”

  Mitch’s heart hammered against his rib cage, his head dizzy with hope as Craig rose from his bed, giving Mitch a peek at firm thighs encased in tight boxer briefs before he sat down on the edge of Mitch’s bed. He scooted over to give him room, but Craig reached down and cupped his cheek and his breath caught.

  Craig leaned down, and Mitch closed his eyes. It seemed forever before he felt Craig’s lips press softly against his. So sweet and gentle. Every inch of his body came alive with that one small kiss.

  His eyes fluttered open to find Craig staring at him, worry etched in his brow. Mitch offered him a small smile and laid his head back on his pillow, scooting over and patting the space next to him.

  Craig moved quickly, standing to pull the blanket down and sliding in next to Mitch, stretching out on his side.

  No words were needed as Craig crushed lips to his. Mitch reveled in the feeling of the light stubble rubbing against his skin, opening his mouth when Craig pressed. Craig’s tongue swept in, taking possession immediately, and it was all Mitch could do to keep himself from begging for more. Heady from Craig’s kiss, he felt light, as if the only thing preventing him from floating away was his friend’s body pressing against him, Craig’s arm across Mitch’s chest.

  Mitch slid his arms tentatively around Craig’s waist and Craig moved in closer, their chests pressing together. He wiggled as he tried to slip his hands up under the hem of Craig’s shirt, finally able to touch the one man he’d desired for the past four years. Mitch let his fingers trail over Craig’s silky skin, reveling in the hard muscles covered lightly with hair. Craig moved his mouth to Mitch’s cheek, panting as he placed kisses down his cheek and jawline and onto his neck.

  “Mitchell.” Craig sighed into the crook of Mitch’s neck.

  He pulled his arms tighter around Craig’s waist and flattened his palms on his back, bringing him closer, so they were thigh to thigh, hip to hip, and chest to chest. Mitch’s cock was pulsing, and when Craig’s hard dick brushed against his, he moaned.

  “Feels good,” he whispered.

  Craig edged back a little and tugged at Mitch’s T-shirt. “This needs to go,” he huffed.

  “Yours too,” Mitch shot back, using his hands to pull it up until it got stuck going over his head.

  Craig laughed and sat up, then yanked it off and flung it to the ground. Mitch tugged his up and wiggled it off before tossing it over Craig’s shoulder.

  They grinned at each other, and Craig practically tackled him as he lay back down, his mouth sucking hotly on Mitch’s neck. Mitch wriggled and tried to suppress the smile at feeling like Craig was marking him. It felt silly and sweet and hot all at once. He wouldn’t let himself wonder what it all meant.

  Craig moved back up, and his tongue parted Mitch’s lips to sweep in, their bodies pressing together as the kiss grew in urgency. Mitch feared blowing his load early, he was so hard and aching. Like when he was a teenager.

  Their bare chests rubbing together was simply heaven, and the way Craig’s hair crinkled against his smoother skin drove him crazy. His hands scrabbled across Craig’s back, trying to move him completely on top of him.

  When Craig moved up, Mitch spread his legs, letting him settle between them. He rolled his hips and gasped when Craig pressed down at him, their cocks sliding against each other, the only barrier
the thin fabric of their boxers. Craig kissed him again as they moved together, practically fucking while still dressed. Four years of suppressed desire screamed through Mitch, and he finally let it loose.

  Mitch reached around and cupped Craig’s ass, moaning as the muscles flexed. Their frenzied movements kicked the blankets and sheet off the bed and soon the room filled with the sounds of their ragged breathing, their low moans.

  “Craig,” he cried out. “I’m going to—”

  “Come for me, Mitchell,” Craig said sharply. “Show me.”

  Craig’s words put him over the edge, and he thrust once more up against him, muscles clenching. His balls pulled up tight and his release shot through, pulsing out as he rode the waves of pleasure rolling through him. He held tight to Craig as he cried out his name, and it was only when he was falling down from the clouds that Craig’s hips stuttered and the warm, wet heat of his release pressed against him, seeping into his own boxers. Craig moaned and grunted, and Mitch thought hearing Craig come was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his life.

  They lay together for a moment until Craig rolled off and strode over to the bathroom. He came back a minute later with a wet washcloth. Mitch gasped at his friend’s nudeness, and Craig chuckled a little.

  “The boxers were a little messy,” he admitted, sitting down and holding the rag in his hand. He gestured to Mitch. “Do you want me to…?”

  Mitch’s cheeks heated, which was ridiculous after what had just occurred between them. But he nodded and lifted his ass up from the bed, wriggling out of his boxers. Craig tossed them to the floor with their shirts and gently cleaned him up. He threw it on top of their shirts and slid back into bed with Mitch, then pulled the blankets up and covered them.

  When Craig rolled onto his side, he threw his arm around Mitch’s stomach and then hesitated. Mitch scooted back against him until they were properly spooned and lay his arm on top of Craig’s, twined their fingers together, and sighed with satisfaction. Craig nuzzled the back of his hair as sleep came easily.

  Chapter Five

  Craig

  CRAIG WOKE early the next morning, and it took a moment for him to realize the warm body pressed against him was Mitchell. The memory of the night before came rushing back and his heart rate sped up. What if he’d ruined their friendship? What if Mitchell regretted last night?

  Craig certainly didn’t. He could never be sorry for what they had done. If anything, it had only cemented the idea that they were meant to be together.

  Mitchell moved in his arms, a soft sigh escaping his lips, and Craig wanted nothing more than to stay snuggled with him under the covers, but his bladder was calling the shots. He slipped out as carefully as possible, sliding his arm out from under Mitchell’s head, and padded to the bathroom.

  On his way back to bed, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand and was surprised to see it was already after nine. They’d planned on going over to see the Budweiser Clydesdales and tour the brewery, so he wondered if he should wake Mitchell up. Craig wasn’t sure when the tours started.

  Craig set his phone down and looked at Mitchell, blinking in surprise when he caught him staring back. Mitchell’s eyes widened as his gaze raked over Craig, reminding Craig he was still naked.

  Mitchell licked his lips as Craig dropped to the edge of the bed, his hand patting Mitchell’s thigh.

  “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” Mitchell said, his voice cracking and his cheeks pinking up.

  An awkwardness hit him, and Craig lifted his hand from Mitchell’s leg. “Um, I just woke up a few minutes ago. It’s after nine. Do you still want to go see the Clydesdales?”

  Mitchell nodded, eyes wide. He looked worried, and Craig’s heart sank. Mitchell regretted what happened. Shit. How could Craig have been so wrong?

  “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll make it quick so you can get in soon.” Craig tried to keep his voice light as his heart shattered. He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up so badly. Without giving Mitchell a chance to say anything, Craig slipped into the bathroom, leaning against the door, fighting the nausea. What have I done?

  THEIR MORNING was stilted as they ate their granola bars in near silence. Conversation had been reduced to one-syllable words. They grabbed a taxi to see the Budweiser Clydesdales and take a tour through the brewery, making the decision to leave the car at the hotel in case they had a little too much to drink. A person couldn’t go to a brewery without sampling some beer, right? And alcohol was definitely something Craig was looking forward to.

  Craig’s brain wouldn’t shut down as they sat quietly in the back of the taxi. He would never forget the sight of Mitchell standing in the shower, his body tight, one hand on his dick, the other braced on the wall, water running down his flushed skin. That image would be imprinted in his brain forever. And the look on his face when he came was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But he pushed those thoughts aside for the moment because it only made him hard as marble.

  His gut was twisted as he wondered how to get rid of the awkwardness still hanging between them. Maybe Mitchell regretted it because he thought it was one-night thing. Maybe he could still show Mitchell what kind of man he could be. What kind of boyfriend he could be.

  Craig had hoped that last night would show Mitchell how he felt, but they hadn’t talked about anything afterward, both too content and tired—and scared, at least on Craig’s part. If he wanted a real chance, he couldn’t put it off much longer. Craig had to tell him how he felt. Even if Mitchell shot him down, he had to know. He was leaving for California, and not knowing would be worse than being turned down in his mind. It was time to be honest and he made up his mind to talk with Mitchell as soon as they were back at the hotel and could be alone.

  Craig paid the taxi driver and slid out, holding the door for Mitchell. He grabbed his arm, holding him in place while he closed the door.

  Mitchell trembled under his hand, and Craig caught his eye.

  “No regrets, Mitchell,” he whispered.

  Mitchell glanced down at his feet and trembled again before he seemed to draw himself up to stare back at Craig.

  His lips curved into a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What happens on a road trip, stays on a road trip, right?”

  If that was how he wanted to play it for now, Craig would go along with him, so he smiled. “Sure.”

  They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before they followed the other tourists heading in to see the famous Clydesdales.

  “Do you think they’re the same ones in the commercials?” Mitchell asked.

  Craig shrugged. “I assume at least some of them are.”

  By the time they arrived at the stable, the tension between them was beginning to dissolve. Whether it was the fun of seeing the famous horses, the fact that they were best friends and had been for so long, or because of the whole “road trip” idea Mitchell had proffered, Craig wasn’t sure. He didn’t really care; he was just glad they were more or less back to themselves.

  The Clydesdales were huge. Much bigger than either had realized. They were lucky to have someone on the tour use Craig’s phone to take their picture together near a couple of the Clydesdales. Craig glanced at it before sliding it back into his pocket, and he grinned. They stood together, Craig’s arm slung over Mitchell’s shoulder and his friend’s arm around his waist, grinning like fools. Craig’s heart twisted. Their smiles told him everything he needed to know. They belonged together. Looking at that picture reinforced his resolve that they should be together. He had to show Mitchell.

  They toured the brewery and tasted several samples, but not enough to make them tipsy. But after the tour, they hung out at the Biergarten and had a few drinks with others from the tour. They ordered some lunch and tried some of the various beers while sitting outside on the patio. The sun was out, but massive umbrellas kept them all in the shade.

  “Where you guys from?”

  Craig turned to Hank, the older g
entleman on his left. “Kansas City.”

  “Dubuque, Iowa,” Hank offered and tilted his head to the plump blonde woman on his other side. “Mary Jo and I always wanted to come to St. Louis. You guys on vacation?”

  “Yeah. We’re doing a road trip around Missouri since we’re moving in a week.” Craig’s belly flipped at his own words and he took a sip from the cold beer bottle.

  “Oh, that’s too bad. Where to?” Mary Jo asked.

  “California.”

  “West Virginia,” Mitchell answered at the same time.

  Mary Jo wrinkled her forehead. “Isn’t that going to be hard on you two? Are you planning on doing the long-distance thing?”

  Mitchell looked at Craig, eyes wide as they both realized their new friends thought they were a couple. Mitchell opened his mouth to say something, but Craig grabbed the arm of his metal chair and pulled him closer. He wasn’t sure what got into him, but he decided to just roll with it.

  “Not if I can convince him to come to California with me.”

  Mitchell’s mouth gaped open, and Craig turned to wink at him. He allowed himself, finally, to reach over and twine his fingers with Mitchell’s right there in front of everyone, and it was everything he had ever wanted. The feel of Mitchell’s hand in his was perfect, just as it had been last night. Even if all Craig ever had with him was this road trip and a moment of pretending to be his boyfriend, then Craig would take it.

  “Why can’t you go to West Virginia with him?” Hank asked.

  Craig glanced at Mitchell, their eyes meeting. “I would follow him anywhere,” he admitted softly. “All he has to do is ask.”

  Hank said something, but at that moment, every cell in Craig’s body was focused on Mitchell. His cheeks pinked up as he held Craig’s gaze and he bit his lower lip. Craig squeezed his hand and swallowed hard.