It's close to midnight, New Year's Eve, and Matt is tired of watching Vic mingle at Roxie's party. After several beers, Matt wants a piece of his lover, and he wants it now. And we all know Matt gets what he wants.
This story was written as a free download for my monthly newsletter, but it grew beyond the confines of the word limit I had imposed upon it, so I trimmed it down to just one hot scene, which is why there are no references to Vic's super powers or the special bond Matt shares with his lover. I rewrote that story into the fourth book in my V series, released in February 2010, which is why there are two stories about Vic and Matt going to a New Year's party at Roxie's house. This one is short and all sex; the other advances the characters and the plot of the series.
You don't have to read any other Vic and Matt story to understand what happens in this one! It's totally out of sequence with the others.
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EXCERPT:
With only a half hour left of 2009, the last place Matt diLorenzo expected to be to ring in the new year was sulking on the sofa in his coworker’s living room as he watched his lover Vic Braunson flirt with another man. No -- that wasn’t fair. Vic wasn’t the one doing the flirting. Doug Sachs lifted weights at the same gym where Matt worked and he could never quite hide his admiration for Vic’s unbridled strength. Besides, it wasn’t Vic’s fault he was sexier than all the other men at Roxie’s New Year’s party. And if Matt were honest, it wasn’t really Vic’s fault they were at Roxie’s little shindig in the first place. Matt thought it’d be a fun distraction to get out of their apartment for the evening. He’d been counting down the hours until 2010 for days now, and a party sounded like just what he needed to get his mind off the clock for a little while.
Because when midnight struck? Matt was guaranteed more than a chaste kiss to celebrate the new year. He and Vic had a tradition that stemmed from the very first time they consummated their relationship -- for the week between Christmas and New Year’s, they swore off any sexual activity between them, a seven-day sabbatical that chafed at Matt like a chastity belt. While most men his age might not miss a day or two without a little loving, Matt never had to go longer than twenty four hours without Vic’s touch satisfying him in some way. A whole week without his lover was akin to dragging through a desert in search of relief from the heat. Oh, there were little moments here and there, like droplets of water to slate the thirst -- the rare occasion when Vic woke before Matt and fondled him through the bed sheets, bringing him to release without technically touching him, and later that day Matt returned the favor while Vic showered, jerking off his lover with a soapy hand towel as Vic gripped the shower curtain so hard, he pulled the rod right out of the wall. But on the whole, the two men ached for each other, and when the clock struck twelve, the new year wasn’t all Matt planned to see come with a bang.
For now, he simmered on the sofa, arms crossed, legs too, as he glared across the room and stared holes into the smug look on Doug’s pink-scrubbed face. Matt didn’t know what the two were talking about, but he didn’t need to hear the words to imagine them. The star-struck look in Doug’s eyes was enough to boil his blood, and the half-empty bottle of beer warming in his hand fueled the rest of his imagination. This was what, his third beer? Fifth? He’d lost count, and already his body hummed from the alcohol in his system. His cock throbbed with an ache he couldn’t satisfy -- not yet. Another what, twenty minutes? He glanced at the clock, then back at Doug,who seemed to have moved closer to Vic in the second it took Matt to look away. Twenty-eight minutes. Damn.
Vic seemed oblivious to Doug’s attention, as usual. He hunched over a bit, pointing to his back, his weight distributed forward as he held his arms out in front of him. They were curled as if he held an imaginary barbell between them. So they were talking shop, nothing more. Weights and strength training, which would’ve bored Matt to tears if he were close enough to overhear. Still, he didn’t like the way Doug gazed at Vic or hung on his every word. The glazed look in his eyes, the damp lips, the slack cheeks. Another step closer and he’d officially be all over the man. Then Matt would have to step in.
Shit on that, Matt thought, pushing himself up off the sofa. I’m going to step in now.
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