Between course work, an internship, clinicals, and a part-time job, med student Liam Martin is worn out. When his lab is cancelled, freeing up his Friday night, all he wants to do is crash.
Liam's roommates have other plans. They think Liam is too stressed and needs to loosen up ... as in going out to party, not staying home to rest. Adam scores coveted tickets to a concert by local alt band Ebola Rain and uses his connections to get backstage.
But Liam doesn't want to go, and manages to lose his roommates backstage by hiding out in one of the dressing rooms, where he promptly falls asleep. Little does Liam know the room belongs to Cooper Dawson, sexy frontman for the band, who also thinks Liam needs to loosen up.
Then Cooper asks Liam to hang out with him, and suddenly Liam isn’t so tired anymore.
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EXCERPT:
When the vodka was gone, there was champagne that fizzed all over Liam’s hands and legs as he popped the cork, but this time he laughed with the others as the alcohol seeped into his jeans. He smelled like a brewery, but Cooper’s hand had drifted from his shoulder to the small of his back, where it rubbed small circles into his skin, and when Liam leaned back against the seat, that hand slipped around his waist to rest on his hip. Liam decided he quite liked the way it felt there. Then the champagne was finished, and someone suggested they stop at a club. Liam thought that sounded like a great idea.
Watch it, Doc, Liam told himself as he followed the others into the club, Cooper’s fingers laced through one of the belt loops on his jeans. You’re starting to enjoy yourself. Can’t have that. He laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Cooper wanted to know as they entered the club. At the bar Cooper stood close behind Liam, too close, and Liam told himself that wasn’t an erection pressing against his ass, it couldn’t be, but it sure felt like one to him. “Only freaks laugh at themselves.”
Liam snickered at that. “I am a freak, remember? You said so yourself.”
Cooper leaned around him and motioned to the bartender. Liam pushed back and smiled at the sharp intake of breath in his ear as he shifted against the singer’s erection. A quick look around assured him the rest of the band had disappeared, lost in the crowd, and when Cooper’s hand eased up the front of his leg, Liam dared to catch it in his and hold it against the bulge at his crotch. “My friends think I need to get laid,” he said with a laugh.
Cooper laughed with him. “You asking me to fuck you?”
“No,” Liam said. But now that you mention it ... “I’m just saying.”
Cooper squeezed Liam’s hard cock through his jeans. When the bartender brought them two mixed drinks, Cooper tossed his back quickly. “Drink up,” he said, glancing around the bar. His bandmates were nowhere to be seen.
Liam fingered the rim of his glass. “I didn’t mean --”
“Drink the motherfucking drink,” Cooper said, anger lacing his voice. “I didn’t buy it just so you could piss in it.”
Quickly Liam downed the alcohol. It burned a path down his throat and coiled into his stomach. “Cooper, listen,” he started, setting the glass on the bar. “I didn’t ask you to fuck me.”
Cooper poked at the hardness in Liam’s pants. “What the fuck’s this?” he wanted to know.
Liam blushed and tried to brush Cooper’s hand away. “Nothing, really.”
Cooper’s hand latched onto his. “Come on.”
“What?” Liam asked. I should say no, he thought. I should tell him I’m only playing around, I get turned on when I drink, it has nothing to do with his warm body and his muscled arms and his hard chest pressing against me.
But that would be lying, wouldn’t it?
