No One But You Read online

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  NO ONE BUT YOU

  by

  KC KENDRICKS

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.amberquill.com

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  No One But You

  An Amber Quill Press Book

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.AmberQuill.com

  http://www.AmberHeat.com

  http://www.AmberAllure.com

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  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  Copyright © 2009 by KC Kendricks

  ISBN 978-1-60272-545-4

  Cover Art © 2009 Trace Edward Zaber

  Layout and Formatting

  Provided by: Elemental Alchemy

  Published in the United States of America

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  Also by KC Kendricks

  Give Me One Night

  Passion's Victory

  Seducing Light

  Shining Victory

  Surrendered Victory

  A Taste Of Victory

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  Chapter 1

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  The only saving grace to my life partner being away on a business trip was that I had the keys to his late-model Corvette. I missed Stacy every empty, aching hour he wasn't breathing the same air as me, and looked forward to his return tomorrow afternoon. I might even give him his car keys back. Until then, I needed speed.

  I shoved a compact disc in the player and cranked up the volume since Stacy wasn't with me. He enjoyed a lot of the bands I did, but cringed over my preferred decibel level. I eased the 'Vette out the driveway and pressed down on the gas pedal. The car responded, chirping the tires. Mentally, I pictured our neighbors, up and down the street, rolling their collective eyes as the Corvette gathered speed, its throaty rumble filling the air and rattling windows. Likely they'd be glad for my lover's return, too, and to have quiet restored to the neighborhood.

  Basically, I was a law-abiding citizen, but speed limits frustrated me. I made the swing onto the state highway and gave the powerful car more throttle. I pushed the four hundred horses up to eighty-five on the deserted blacktop, then eased back to sixty miles-per-hour, only a tad over the posted limit. I'd have put the top down, but the weather forecast called for rain.

  The parking lot at my favorite watering hole wasn't crowded, but I snagged a spot in the back row, a few spaces away from other vehicles, for safety's sake. Cue case in hand, I stepped through the door and glanced around, scoping out the clientele.

  Each end of the large, low-ceilinged room held three pool tables. In front of the massive oak bar, seating took up the center of the space. A few of my buddies greeted me as I laid my case on a table and took out my stick. I belonged to a local billiards and pool league and I'd planned tonight, before Stacy came home, for some much needed practice time before an upcoming tournament.

  "Hey, Levi, you're late. Where the fuck have you been?"

  "He's been filming all day, doncha know? He's Levi Wright, the big cable channel guru--whoo-hoo!"

  I acknowledged them, flipping them the bird and tossing a few profanities in their general direction, but my attention was riveted to the older man at the end of the bar. A shiver tickled along my spine, from my neck all the way down to dark, private places, as my pulse edged faster.

  He perched casually on a bar stool, one boot heel hooked on the chair rung and the other firmly on the floor. Tall, at least six-foot-one without the boots, his expensive black leather jacket rested with ease on his broad shoulders. Formfitting black jeans showcased his trim hips and the tight, rounded bump of his genitals, "dressed" to the left. His wavy dark hair almost reached his collar, begging to have me run my fingers through it. The man took sipping a draft beer to new levels of sexy.

  His cue case leaned up against the bar, a sure sign he wanted to get in on a game. I had a few bucks in my pocket, and didn't plan on losing them, but I'd play with him if he asked me nicely enough.

  My teammate racked the balls and invited me to break. Not to brag, but I was the star player on my team. That's not to say I couldn't be beaten--I could--but I drew the tough match-ups. It took a certain amount of practice to stay sharp. I made the break, and the fourteen ball dropped. The fifteen was a peep, so I tapped it in before concentrating on a few of the harder shots. In the mood for fun, I bent over the table and wiggled my ass. The man at the bar smiled and sauntered over.

  The slow-moving ceiling fan wafted his scent to me. I breathed in his spicy fragrance, rich with the mystery and lure of a male whose strength equaled mine. Dark imagines of him beneath me teased the corners of my mind. In the dusky light, his ruttish blue gaze burned a path to my groin.

  "Can I buy you a beer?"

  I straightened. We stood eye-to-eye. "Sure. I'd love a beer."

  He nodded and motioned to the bartender, who set a filled frosty mug on the bar within easy reach. I thanked him.

  "You're welcome. You're pretty good."

  I thanked him again. "I see you have your stick with you. I bet you're pretty good, too."

  "Oh?"

  I flashed my sexiest grin at him. "It's just this feeling I have."

  His eyes darkened, smoky now as he watched me. I conceded the table to my teammate and picked up my beer. The man trailed his fingers down my arm. "What do you say? Let's blow this place and find someplace quiet."

  I kept my gaze locked with his. "I'm flattered, but I'm in a committed relationship."

  "Hmm. So he doesn't allow you to have any fun?"

  "Heck, no. I'm on a very tight leash."

  He snorted. "That's too bad. A gorgeous young stud like you should have a loose rein."

  I sneaked a downward look at his bulging zipper. He was way ahead of himself. Unfortunately, seeing the size of the loaded gun he carried had quite an effect on me. He saw me check him out. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. I moved closer to him, into the aura of warmth that surrounded him. I brushed my knuckles against his powerful-looking thigh and lowered my voice.

  "How loose do you think I should be?"

  "Very. I'll pay for the room, if you say yes."

  Heart pounding, cock swelling, I leaned over the pool table to make another shot.

  "You have the best ass I've ever seen, young man."

  I wiggled it at him again and made the shot, nine ball in the center pocket. Straightening, I glanced over my shoulder at him with lazy, half-closed eyes. I made another shot as he tightened his cue.

  Without waiting for me to give him permission, he moved the cue ball, lined up the most difficult shot on the table--and made it.

  "Okay, old man, you've got my attention."

  He looked up at me, amusement sparkling in his deep-set eyes. "I've had that since you walked in the door."

  "Don't flatter yourself." I sipped my beer as he dropped another ball in the pocket.

  He straightened from the shot and ran the tip of his stick up the inside of my thigh to my balls. It was a bold move. I placed my cue in the rack, knowing my friends wouldn't let it walk out the door with anyone, and gestured at the table.

  "I gotta take a leak. You can finish the table." I walked away before he had the chance to answer.

  The restroom was empty,
not surprising considering the small crowd. I unzipped. Behind me, the door opened, then closed, the lock driving home a split second before the room went dark. Strong fingers grasped my hips, tugging my jeans down.

  Heat radiated off his body as his feverish lips touched the back of my neck. I turned and wrapped my arms around him. He clutched me in return, his pelvis hard against mine, our tense thighs locked together as our harsh breathing echoed off the tiled walls. My lips found his and I thrust my tongue into the depths of his mouth. The sharp edge of the counter bit into my ass. I didn't care. I unsnapped his pants and pushed them off his hips, closing my fingers around his engorged shaft.

  His hands yanked my shirt up and my pants the rest of the way down. My cock, full to bursting, sprang into his waiting hand. He rolled my foreskin back, just the way I liked. Wet, warm lips sucked on my left nipple, then slid lower until his mouth was on my cock, taking me in. I buried my fingers in his hair and ground my bush to his face.

  He knew what he was about, holding my shaft lightly between his index finger and thumb as the tip of his tongue teased my glans. The heat coiled in my belly, burning to break free into his mouth. I moaned when he released me. In the blink of an eye, he spun me around, bending bent me over the counter, holding me down. I pushed against him, but he was strong. My protest was cut short as one long, slick finger teased my ass. I sucked in a breath as the sensitive skin heated, surprised he actually carried warming lube in his pocket.

  I grunted at him. "You perv!"

  His wordless reply made me glad he was strong. My knees went weak as the tip of his cock slipped that first bit into me, a moment of discomfort mixing with burgeoning arousal. I relaxed as slowly he pushed into me, ripping a moan from my throat as my body accepted his.

  "Oh, God, you have the tightest..." His breath tickled my neck as he fucked me, his hand stroking my cock.

  It didn't take long. A week without him, the surprise of him being here waiting on me for this little bit of action, had both of us primed. I pressed back, he shifted his angle, and my world burst into white-hot flame as I came in his hand. He was with me, his release scalding and wet, beginning as mine ended. We hung there, pressed tightly together, our breathing returning to normal. I shivered as he carefully withdrew from me, missing his body heat.

  I turned, and we wrapped our arms around each other. He nuzzled my neck. "Did you miss me, puppy?"

  "I missed you every moment, old man. How 'bout you?"

  Stacy kissed me, putting everything he felt for me into it, and I responded in kind. I breathed in his scent like a drowning man, not wanting to let go of him. His forehead came to rest on mine. "You know I did. I love you more than life, Levi."

  A lump formed in my throat, and my voice refused to work. "Stacy..."

  "Hey, don't get all emotional on me," he whispered in my ear, then he cleared his throat. Twice.

  I hugged him even tighter. "Let's take this home so we can do it all over again."

  "Great idea, lover." His lips brushed mine.

  I wanted more, but I'd wait. I let him go so we could freshen up before we walked back into the pub.

  Catcalls and applause greeted us when we exited the restroom. I grinned at my friends. The bartender flashed me a disgusted look. "You horny bastard. What did I tell you the last time you did that in my bathroom?"

  Stacy stopped cold in his tracks. The shock on his face sent an icy blast through my veins. The easy, loose glow I'd acquired in the men's room vanished in a single breath. Surely he wouldn't believe I'd ever taken anyone else into a men's room anywhere for a trick. I glared at the bartender.

  "Get a pair of glasses, asshole, so you can keep your customers straight." I retrieved my cue, broke it down, and put it back in its case.

  My lover watched me, an odd look on his face. Fresh sweat broke out on my back and under my arms. In the five years Stacy and I had been together, I'd never even looked at another man. I had no desire for anyone else. I loved Stacy with a heat that never cooled, and I had from the night we first met. That strange, hurt look on his face chilled me to the marrow. My hand shook as I handed him his stick so he could break it down. I did my best to act normal.

  "How'd you get here anyway, old man? You suckered Jeremy into your little seduction scheme, didn't you?"

  Stacy managed a small smile, but fear clenched tighter around my heart. How could such careless words from a casual acquaintance wound him so?

  I knew the answer. It was his persistent hang-up about the fifteen-year difference in our ages. He usually kept it from me, but it plagued him in the odd, dark hours of sporadic restless nights. I saw it in him some mornings after he'd tossed and turned instead of sleeping. At least his voice sounded normal as he confessed.

  "Yep. Jeremy was in on it. It was his idea actually. Things are shaky on Wall Street right now and the deal fell through. When I asked him to get Stuart to bump up my flight and get me home as fast as possible, he joked about surprising you. I thought it might be fun."

  My blood boiled. Jeremy Mayfield. I should have suspected. Stacy's business partner didn't like me much, and the feeling was mutual. He and Stacy had been tight for twenty-five years, and Jeremy fed Stacy's fears about our age difference. Had Mayfield suggested Stacy "surprise" me in the hope Stacy would catch me cheating on him?

  That would never happen because I didn't cheat on Stacy. Ever.

  I'd become adept at not allowing my lover to see my animosity toward Mayfield, refusing to allow my anger to show in my voice or my face.

  "So old man Mayfield suggested you do me in a public restroom? Get outta town!"

  Stacy idly lined up the house cue sticks in the rack. "No, he didn't suggest that. I planned to haul you off to a motel, hence the packet of lube in my pocket." He paused, leered at me, and puffed out his chest. "Here was all my idea, spur of the moment. How'd I do?"

  "You did swell. I'm still all a-tingle." I grasped the back of his neck and pulled him to me, indulging in a kiss, something we rarely did in public. My buddies howled again.

  They were all straight, but had accepted Stacy and me as a couple. When I came out to them five years ago, I'd thought for sure they'd walk away from me, but they didn't. A hetero couple at the bar looked surprised, then laughed with glee as they realized what our lengthy stay in the men's room must have entailed. The way they looked at each other, I surmised we'd given them an idea for some fun of their own. Stacy held out his hand, palm up, and looked at me expectantly. I played stupid.

  "What?"

  His eyebrow lifted as he wiggled his fingers. "Gimme."

  I backed away from him. "You know what they always say, big guy. Possession is nine-tenths of the law."

  Stacy met my gaze. God, how I loved his eyes. A new awareness trickled into my consciousness, flowing like a few drops of water that suddenly became a raging torrent threatening to wash away every precious thing in my world. My lover looked more tired--and older--than I'd ever seen him.

  He blew out a long breath, then shrugged. "Okay. You can keep the car. You enjoy the 'Vette more than I do these days."

  I stared at him. Stacy James was giving me the Corvette? His Corvette? That car was the second love of his life.

  Something was seriously wrong.

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  Chapter 2

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  I hated to be late for work, especially on days we filmed the closing "tip of the week" segments. I had a new director starting today, and giving him the impression I was a slacker wouldn't get us off on the right foot. Even knowing that, I lingered over my morning coffee, not wanting to leave Stacy.

  As I expected, the film crew was already at The Chop Shop when I arrived, setting up. A few years ago, a cable network had approached us about doing a weekly thirty-minute show on all things American muscle car, and they liked the idea our shop was a family-owned and operated business.

  My father, uncle and I agreed it was too big an opportunity to pass up. Then they decreed I had to go in front of
the camera. When I balked, my lover sided with them. It wasn't exactly a star is born. I'd been a reluctant front man at first, but I'd grown into it.

  My father glared at me as I waltzed in, while my Uncle Danny looked at me with an idiot's grin on his face. "Stacy get home a day early?"

  I put my hands on my hips and stared him down. "Yeah. What's your point?"

  He held up his hands as he cackled gleefully. "I have no point. Did you get any sleep at all?"

  "Fuck you. Don't you have some real work to do? I spy a '65 Super Sport with no hood, no tires, and no front fender sitting over there." I pointed at the business end of the building, the original shop area. Uncle Danny laughed again, but he headed toward the old Chevy.

  My new director took it all in. He walked over and extended his hand. "You must be Levi. I'm Aaron."

  He was shorter than I am, maybe five-ten, with shaggy, light brown hair that flashed gold in the strong shop lights, and the biggest, brownest puppy eyes I'd ever seen on a man. I didn't feel a lick of lust toward him, but I could see he probably generated a certain amount of sex appeal.

  I flashed him my best smile and shook his hand. "Hi, Aaron. Welcome to The Chop Shop."

  Aaron grinned. "Man, I'm thrilled to be here. I begged for this gig."

  "Old car lover, huh?"

  He laughed. "All the way to the lug nuts." Aaron looked at his watch. "I guess we need to get started, if you're ready."

  I was ready, if I could get my mind off Stacy and down to business, which wasn't going to be easy. We'd made love again in the middle of the night and neither of us had gone back to sleep.