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What They Say About Love - 1 

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What They Say About Love 

By Alexi Silversmith 

ONE 

"Beth." James sighed tiredly. "It's not you. It's me." 

Beth stared back at him from the other side of the 
beautifully laid table with its red rose centerpiece. 
Around them, the low-voiced conversations and discreet 
clinking of silverware that characterized the swishy 
French restaurant carried on as if nothing had happened, 
but in the bubble of silence that surrounded James' table 
for two, someone's heart had just been crushed. James 
was sickeningly aware that it wasn't his. 

"Seriously?" Beth said. "That's it? That's the best you 
could come up with?" 

"I'm sorry--" James began again, but this time Beth 
didn't let him finish. 

"You already said that five times, but I still don't know 
what the hell is going on." Beth's voice rose on the last 
few words, and people at the tables around them began 
to glance in their direction, faces displaying either 
annoyance or curiosity. 

James cringed, raking his fingers through his unruly 
dark hair, but before he could think of anything to say to 
soothe Beth, she continued. 

"It's Valentine's Day, you invited me to an expensive 
restaurant and I got all dressed up -- I bought new shoes, 
Goddamn it -- and it was all so you could tell me It's not 

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you, it's me? I thought you were going to propose! What 
happened? Did you--" She gulped, then carried on 
bravely. "Did you meet someone else?" 

"No!" James stopped looking at the other diners and 
gave Beth his full attention. It was the first time he'd 
bothered in about a year, he realized, and that made him 
feel guiltier than ever. "I wouldn't ever cheat on you, 
you know that. There isn't anyone else, it's just--" 

"Just what? Tell me. Whatever is wrong, I'm there for 
you, James. Don't push me away." Beth leaned over the 
table, making the smooth waves of her blonde hair 
swing forward. James could see hope still lighting her 
eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to do this 
properly. 

"I don't love you. I like you and I care about you, but it 
isn't love. It never was." 

Beth flinched as if he had hit her, turning her face away. 
As James stared at her profile, she opened her mouth, 
shut it with a snap, then stood up so suddenly that her 
chair crashed to the polished wood floor. More eyes 
turned in their direction. Some of them locked 
admiringly onto Beth's curvy little body, snugly encased 
in a short, tight black dress. 

James took in the familiar sight and knew he had made 
the right decision. Even though her breasts were nearly 
popping out of the low neckline, and even though her 
skirt exposed beautifully toned legs, there wasn't a 
flicker of interest from his cock. It felt like looking at a 
statue. He could appreciate it without wanting to have 
sex with it for a single second. 

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"Fuck you," Beth said quietly. "I wish we'd never met." 

She grabbed her clutch bag from the table and walked 
out of the restaurant, head held high, leaving James to 
wearily put his face in his hands. He tried to ignore the 
muffled laughter and the interested whispering that rose 
from the tables around him. He'd screwed that up pretty 
damn well. 

But then, he'd screwed his life up pretty damn well, too. 
Not to mention Beth's life -- and she didn't deserve it, 
even if he did. 

Things had been going just as they were supposed to. 
His IT consulting business, Stone McKinley Solutions, 
was in its fourth year and in the black. He had a nice 
house, a loving family, and a girlfriend who made his 
friends wolf-whistle whenever she entered a room. He'd 
accomplished everything he set out to do by his thirtieth 
birthday, and Beth was right -- when he'd booked this 
table for tonight, he had planned to ask her to be his 
wife. He'd even bought the ring. He had everything 
planned. 

Then he'd sat down opposite his gorgeous girlfriend, in a 
romantic setting, on what was supposed to be the best 
night of his life, and come face to face with one vital 
fact. 

He was miserable. 

His brain had lit up like the Fourth of July with the 
realization that this was wrong. Everything. The 
restaurant, the ring, even his damn tasteful charcoal suit 

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was a horrible mistake. Yes, he wanted more than 
anything to settle down and build a life. But not with 
Beth. 

In fact, he admitted to himself now, something had been 
wrong for a long time. So long that he'd almost stopped 
noticing. In the summer, he'd told himself he was tired 
and too busy. In the winter, he'd told himself it was lack 
of sunlight. When things were tough at work, he blamed 
it on that. When things went well in the office, he 
blamed it on having a fight with Beth -- even when he 
had to pick a fight for that to make sense. Lack of 
exercise, too much red meat, not enough red meat. 
Excuse after excuse. 

Then, tonight, his hand had gone to his pocket and 
brushed the little velvet box, and a sense of such deep 
and overwhelming horror had surged through his body 
that he felt as if he was going to be sick. His stomach 
was still churning. 

So he'd broken Beth's heart on Valentine's Day. 

He was a complete and utter bastard. The most relieved 
bastard in the world. Thank God he had realized in time. 

"Sir?" 

James blinked and looked up to see a white-tuxedoed 
waiter. The younger man's tanned, handsome face was 
carefully blank, and James knew he had witnessed the 
scene with Beth and was wondering whether James was 
going to add to the fireworks. 

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"Are you... ready to order?" The waiter quirked an 
inquiring eyebrow over a deep blue eye -- nearly the 
same color as James' own -- and James' cock leaped to 
attention. 

Jesus, how far gone was he when all it took was a Roger 
Moore eyebrow quirk to give him a hard on? James 
cleared his throat and reached for his wallet, covertly 
adjusting his crotch as he did so. He pulled out two 
twenties and threw them down on the table, then stood. 

"No, thanks. I don't feel like eating alone." 

The waiter gave him a discreet but thorough once over 
and then met his eyes again. "I don't blame you, sir." 

James just barely kept himself from backing away. No, 
no, no. No way was he ready for this. Well, his crotch 
was, but the rest of him needed a little more time. 
Especially since he'd booked this table in his own name, 
and there might be people here who knew him. 

He nodded to the waiter curtly and then walked out of 
the restaurant to collect his Mercedes. 

He was waiting at a red light on Masen Street when his 
phone -- which he had automatically put in the hands-
free holder on the dash when he got in -- chirped. 

"Hey, Jamie." The deep, slightly accented voice of his 
business partner and best friend Ethan Stone filled the 
leather-scented interior of the car. Ethan came from 
England originally, and although he had lived in the 
U.S. for over fifteen years, the accent had never quite 
faded. James squirmed, his fingers going white on the 

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steering wheel as he pictured the other man's handsome 
face, with its short blond hair and mesmerizing gray 
eyes. 

It took a real effort to keep his voice even as he replied, 
"Hey, Ethe. What's up?" 

"That's what I was about to ask you" Ethan said. "I've 
had Beth on the phone for the last ten minutes. What the 
fuck happened tonight?" 

James winced, his unruly erection wilting. Well, that 
might be handy the next time Ethan's deep, gravelly 
voice gave him an inconvenient reaction in a business 
meeting. Just think about Beth and abracadabra... 

"Didn't she tell you?" he hedged. 

"Er, no. I couldn't get much sense out of her. From what 
I could make out she thought you'd either had a nervous 
breakdown or started taking drugs. She wanted to come 
over to my place to talk about staging an intervention on 
you. When I didn't go for that idea, she hung up. Did 
you lose it and bend her over the dessert trolley or 
what?" 

A reluctant laugh broke out of James throat. "No. I... 
broke up with her." 

There was a long silence. "You broke up with Beth." 

It wasn't phrased as a question, but James answered 
anyway. "Yes." 

"Why?" 

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The word was toneless, but James was sure he wasn't 
imagining the disapproval. 

"It wasn't right between us, Ethe. I tried my best, but I 
haven't been happy with her for a long time." Not since I 
realized I wanted you to fuck me more than I wanted to 
fuck Beth
, he added silently. Good God, he was going to 
hell. But he'd tried denying it and look what that had 
gotten him. Two years wasted, an ex-girlfriend who 
thought he was certifiable -- she might even be right --
and a butt-load of guilt and bad feeling. Once again, he 
shook his head. He regretted everything except finally 
having the courage to break it off. 

There was another silence. Then Ethan shouted, "YES!" 

James almost swerved into oncoming traffic. "What the 
hell, man?" 

"Jesus, I thought you'd never wake up!" Ethan said more 
quietly. "I don't want to badmouth Beth, she's a great 
girl, but anyone with half a brain could see you were just 
going through the motions. I definitely did not want to 
be a best man at your wedding knowing that." 

"Oh." James blinked. "Right." 

"Are you okay? You sound kinda shaken up. You want 
me to come around with a quart of whisky and some 
porn?" 

James snorted again. That was Ethan. No matter what 
James was going through, Ethan could always make him 

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laugh. "Ah, no, I'll be fine. Besides, didn't you have a 
red-hot date tonight?" 

"Yes, but I'll blow it off if you need me, Jamie, you 
know that." Ethan's voice was full of compassion, and 
James' cock perked up again. Damn. 

"Thanks, man, but I'm really okay. Just feeling guilty 
and relieved. And guilty that I'm so relieved. I'll get over 
it. See you at the party tomorrow." 

"Okay. Give me a call if you change your mind." 

"Will do." 

There was another pause. James waited for the click, but 
instead there was a noise that might have been a sigh, 
and Ethan said quietly, "You did the right thing." 

James swallowed. "Thanks." 

The line went dead. 

"Fuck," James said to thin air. 

Five minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of his 
townhouse. He put the car in the garage and walked into 
the house, stripping as he went. He toed his shoes off in 
the kitchen, left his tie in the hall, flung his jacket and 
shirt off on the way up the stairs, and got rid of his 
pants, boxers, and socks seconds before he stepped into 
the shower. 

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The hard on that Ethan's voice had created was still 
going strong, especially went James remembered that 
exultant "Yes!" 

Would Ethan sound like that when he came? If he was 
buried deep inside James' ass, rutting, fucking him deep 
and hard? Would he shout out as he filled James with 
spunk? 

"Oh, God," James moaned, letting the hot water batter 
down on his painfully hard cock and grabbing a handful 
of Beth's conditioner. Half the scent-free lotion went on 
his cock, the rest he smeared over his ass as he eased a 
finger inside himself. He had been doing this a lot lately, 
even though it made him feel vaguely ashamed 
afterward. Right now, he didn't care. 

He clenched his muscles around the intrusion of his 
finger and yanked hard on his cock, and in five seconds 
he was coming all over the tile, hot gushes of come that 
were like nothing he'd ever felt when he was with a 
woman. 

Afterward, he staggered out of the shower, dried himself 
off, and sat down on the edge of his bed. The pink pot of 
moisturizer and the hairbrush that Beth had left on the 
nightstand the last time she stayed over caught his eye, 
and he sighed. 

He didn't consider himself gay. Not really. James had 
experimented in college -- discreetly -- and figured out 
that he was probably bisexual. Well, they said that deep 
down most people were, right? After a couple of 
threesomes with an inventive girlfriend, he'd known that 
he found guys attractive sexually -- he'd even fucked 

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one once -- but decided that, overall, he was more 
interested in women. 

Since that was the case, it seemed pointless to "come 
out" to anyone. He'd fully intended to get married to a 
woman and have kids and a normal, happy life. Ethan 
laughed at him and called him the last romantic, but 
what was wrong with wanting to love someone and have 
them love him back? What was wrong with a house in 
the suburbs and kids? That was the American Dream, 
wasn't it? 

He fell back onto the bed with a groan. Oh, who was he 
kidding? He'd been a coward. He hadn't wanted to face 
his friends and his family with the revelation that he 
swung both ways. It wasn't that his family were bigots. 
Not his mother or his sister, anyway. They were pretty 
open-minded. His sister even read those Japanese 
comics with boys having sex in them, despite her 
husband making fun of her for it. His father mocked 
effeminate men on TV, but had been horrified by a gay 
bashing that had happened when James was at school. 
But how would any of them react if it turned out that 
James, the only son, was what his father laughingly 
called "a creampuff"? That might change all their minds 
pretty quick. 

And then there had been James' friends. Straight as a 
yardstick, the whole bunch. Especially Ethan. Ethan was 
the number one playboy everywhere he went, nailing 
anything in a skirt, and with a collection of porn that 
made him a living legend. 

James had not been able to imagine Ethan's reaction to 
finding out his best friend was gay. He hadn't wanted to. 

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The truth was that he'd loved fucking that guy -- a guy 
whose face and name he remembered to this day -- so 
much that it scared him. He'd seen all his plans, his 
place in his family, and his world slipping away. So 
afterward, he'd steered clear of men. At first, it hadn't 
seemed that big of a deal. He wasn't really missing out 
on anything. He'd gone through a few girlfriends, sure, 
but what successful, reasonably good-looking guy 
didn't? He just hadn't met The One yet. 

It was only over the past couple of years -- since he met 
Beth, since everyone started needling him about it being 
time to settle down, since he'd started to imagine that 
"normal" life with a wife and two kids and a fucking 
dog, for God's sake -- that he'd started to feel trapped. 
As if his dream was a nightmare instead. 

And then one day, when they were working late, Ethan 
had leaned over his shoulder to point out some stats on 
James' computer display and everything had gone to 
hell. 

James had felt Ethan's warm, muscled back against his, 
the moist breath on the back of his neck, and, breathing 
in the musky, male scent of his friend, he had known. 
This was what he wanted. He wanted a man behind him, 
pressing up against him, holding him. He wanted what 
he had always been too afraid to try before: a man 
fucking him. 

Specifically, Ethan. 

James rubbed his hands over his face. Ignoring it hadn't 
worked. Time to face the truth. It didn't matter if he 

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called himself gay or bi. Right now, he didn't want a 
woman. He wanted his best friend. But that wasn't going 
to happen, so, breaking it down to the basics, he wanted 
a man. He wanted to be fucked by a man. He wasn't sure 
if it was just about sex or something more -- he was 
pretty sure he wasn't ready for a relationship with a guy, 
but either way, he needed to stop acting like a whiny 
little bitch and take action. 

He sat up as an idea took root. Gay guys had this 
worked out, right? He'd seen a few episodes of Queer as 
Folk
. If you looked right and gave out the signals, you 
could walk into a gay bar and get laid within minutes. 
No questions. No names exchanged. No fuss. If he didn't 
like it, he walked out -- a little bow-legged, sure, but 
none the worse for wear -- and could put all this doubt 
behind him. If he did like it... well, then he'd have gotten 
rid of his ass virginity and could start to reconsider his 
options for the future. 

He glanced at his digital clock with growing excitement. 
It was only nine p.m. The bars downtown would just be 
opening, filling up with horny, single, gay men who 
wanted some company on Valentine's Day. James could 
oblige. 

James stood and went to the full-length mirror that Beth 
had put in a few weeks ago. He had a good body. He 
was just under six feet, not ripped, but toned, with good 
definition on his arms and abs. When you worked the 
long office hours he did, you had to get to the gym 
unless you wanted to end up looking like Jabba the Hut. 

What was the first thing James noticed about another 
man? Ass, definitely ass. 

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He turned, craning a look over his shoulder. Huh. 
Looked good to him. He had a decent-sized cock, too. 
Maybe he was a bit older than the average guy trolling 
for sex, but there had to be some men who wanted a 
more mature partner, and overall he was pretty good 
looking. The trick would be to shout "available" so that 
people would approach him, because chances were that 
if he had to take the initiative, he'd end up sitting in a 
corner all night nursing a single beer. 

He opened his wardrobe. What did he own that shouted 
"available"? Not much, at first look. On one side were 
the clothes he had bought for himself: worn jeans, T-
shirts and sweaters, sneakers, boots. On the other were 
the clothes that Beth had bought for him: suits, crisp 
shirts, ties, and dress shoes, so that he would look good 
when he met the other partners at her law firm and her 
ridiculously wealthy parents. Wait, where were those 
pants his ex-girlfriend had given him a few years ago? 
That had been Anna. They'd broken up a month later, 
and he'd never worn them. He rooted out the smooth, 
soft leather pants and pulled them on with difficulty, 
sucking his stomach in to get the snap fastened. 

He looked at his ass again. Holy crap. That definitely 
shouted something. Possibly "charges by the hour." 
There was no way he could put underwear on beneath 
them. For a minute, he wavered. Did he really want to 
go out in public looking like this? What if someone he 
knew saw him? 
Then his resolve firmed. No one he knew was going to 
see him. That was the point of the experiment. He was 
going to a gay bar, for God's sake. The only people who 
were going to look at his ass would be checking it out. 

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Man up, McKinley, he told himself. Ass is good

The pants were black, so he put on black boots and then 
chose a thin linen shirt. Normally he'd have put an 
undershirt on with this one, to hide his nipples, but 
tonight... well, nipples were good, too. He buttoned it 
up, looked at himself, then unbuttoned it halfway. Chest 
was good as well. He'd worked out for it; he might as 
well show it off. In that spirit, he didn't bother trying to 
tuck the shirt in. 

His eyes strayed back to that little pink pot on the 
nightstand. He knew full well that in the drawer 
underneath, Beth had left a tangle of cosmetics. He had 
a flashback to Finn -- the guy he'd had sex with in 
college -- and the smudgy black eye-liner the other man 
had worn. Finn had jokingly told James that the make-
up was his "armor." Maybe... 

When James pulled the drawer open, there was a black 
eye-liner pencil lying right there, on the top. Okay, that 
had to be a sign. Poking his tongue out with the effort 
not to gouge his eye, he applied a thick line of the 
cosmetic to his eyelid, just above the dark lashes. Then 
he carefully smudged it with his pinkie and rubbed the 
leftover color onto his lower lash line. 

He stepped back to look at himself properly. It took a 
moment for it to sink in but... damn. He was hot. Like, 
the kind of guy that James would secretly have been 
checking out on the street hot. Who knew that tight 
pants, a see-through shirt, and some make-up could turn 
him into a grade-A hottie? He felt a surge of exhilaration 
-- as strong as the sense of dread from earlier -- that 

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made him feel almost drunk. He was going to get laid 
tonight. No. He was going to get fucked

In a hurry now, James tossed the pencil back in the 
drawer and picked up his wallet. He extracted a couple 
hundred dollars and slid the bills, with effort, into his 
pocket. Then he took a condom out of the nightstand 
and put that in the other pocket. And then another one, 
just in case. Then he picked up his BlackBerry, did a 
quick search, and found just what he was looking for. A 
local gay club, close enough that he wouldn't be in a 
completely strange part of town, but not close enough 
that anyone he knew would be likely to wander by. 

All right, Love Bites, James thought. Here I come

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TWO 

Ethan snapped his cell shut and shoved it into his jeans. 
Then he took a couple of deep, slightly frosty breaths --
it was still winter, after all -- that brought the classic 
back-alley scents of weed, piss, and decomposing trash 
to his nose. The deep bass of the dance music playing 
inside throbbed through the wall behind him, but it was 
still early enough that he was alone out here, which was 
lucky since he'd ducked out for some privacy when his 
cell first rang. Not that many people had his private 
number, so he usually answered without glancing at 
caller ID -- a practice he'd regretted when Beth's whiny, 
high-pitched voice had come on the line. She must have 
snuck his number off of Jamie's phone, because he'd 
certainly never given it to her. 

Ethan knew it wasn't fair to dislike the woman so 
intensely, especially when she clearly saw him as a 
friend. But Jesus -- she was about as interesting as a 
block of wood. He'd never exactly been in love with any 
of Jamie's girlfriends, but most of them at least had a 
sense of humor. Besides which, he'd always had an 
uncomfortable feeling that Beth liked him just a bit too 
much. In the "Hey, I've got this fantasy about 
threesomes..." way. The invitation in her voice on the 
phone just now -- before she had lost her temper and 
hung up -- had confirmed it. 

But none of that mattered to Ethan anymore, not after 
speaking to Jamie and hearing that the man had finally 
gotten it together and dumped the woman. No more 
friendly get-togethers where he had to pretend that Beth 
didn't bore him stiff, no more awkward fix-ups with 
Beth's friends. No more double dates, which were a 

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hellish combination of both. Lately, it seemed like she'd 
been grafted onto Jamie's arm, and Ethan hadn't been 
able to avoid her because that would have meant 
avoiding his best friend, too -- and he could never do 
that. 

Ethan prayed it would be at least a few months before 
Jamie got another girlfriend and he had to go through it 
all again. 

The door behind Ethan squeaked open and the alley was 
flooded with pounding techno music. 
"Hey, Ethan -- you finished?" 

Ethan turned to look at his hot date, though that wasn't 
really the right term. Sure, Sandy was hot enough to 
singe Ethan's cock, with thick, curly dark hair, a tight 
little body, and a mouth -- currently gleaming with 
cherry lip gloss -- to die for, but "date" implied some 
sort of budding relationship. Ethan and Sandy were sex-
friends, pure and simple. They were here together 
because no one wanted to be alone on Valentine's Day, 
but no matter what they got up to tonight, neither of 
them would bother calling in the morning. 

Sandy wiggled impatiently, tapping one high-heeled 
shoe. "Music won't wait forever, lover, and neither will 
I." 

Ethan reached out to pull Sandy to him, grabbing a 
double handful of ass. "Then I'd better get in there, 
hadn't I?" 

Sandy let out a sultry little moan and dragged him back 
into the club. 

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The place was heaving tonight, and Ethan regretfully let 
go of his ass-hold in his fight to get both of them to the 
bar. He bought a beer for himself and a vodka and 
cranberry for Sandy, and then they headed to the dance 
floor. 

Ethan spent a few songs rubbing and grinding against 
Sandy before Sandy swapped him for a giant in a leather 
jacket. But it was okay, because Ethan already had his 
eye on a sweet redhead with peaches and cream skin. He 
and Sandy had an agreement that if one or both of them 
hooked up with someone else, there'd be no hard 
feelings. 

Unfortunately, after only one dance the redhead moved 
on. Ethan looked around to see if Sandy was still cozied 
up with the giant, but when he spotted that distinctive 
halo of dark hair, Sandy was in a corner bumping and 
grinding alone. Sandy had struck out, too. 

He fought his way through the crowd and plastered 
himself to Sandy's back. "Hello, gorgeous." 

"Well, hello to you, too..." said a husky voice, far deeper 
than he was expecting. 

At the same time, Ethan realized that the person he was 
currently groping was about two inches taller than 
Sandy. Oops. Mistaken identity. Not that he cared at this 
point -- not now that he'd gotten his hands on such a 
taut, round treat of an ass. It didn't seem that Not-Sandy 
minded, either, wiggling back against him like those 
tight leather pants were on fire. Jesus, what a gorgeous 
little backside. Ethan buried his face in the cloud of 

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silky dark hair, his cock swelling by what felt like two 
inches. Whoa. That was some serious chemistry. 

Not-Sandy sucked in a deep breath, hand going back to 
grab Ethan's hip, pulling Ethan even closer. Ethan ran 
his hands up under the flimsy shirt, savoring the warm, 
slightly sweaty skin and causing Not-Sandy to let out a 
little mewl of pleasure that made Ethan's cock throb. 
That was it. Time for introductions. Ethan spun his new 
friend around. In the flickering blue and white lights he 
saw an angelically beautiful face, all wet, pouty lips and 
smoky eyes. Reminded him of someone. Reminded him 
of--

"Holy fuck!

Ethan whipped his hands away at the same moment his 
partner jerked back. They stared at each other for a 
moment, then the tight-panted angel said, "Ethan?" 

"Jamie? Is that you?" Ethan stared at his best friend --
his straight best friend -- in complete shock, taking in 
the come-fuck-me outfit and... Jesus Christ, was that 
eye-liner? Jamie McKinley wearing make-up? Had hell 
frozen over? Had Ethan drunk too much and passed out 
under a table? 

"Hey, Ethan -- I'm gonna get outta here. Ben's taking me 
home." 

Ethan dragged his eyes away from what he was nearly 
convinced was a hallucination to see Sandy -- otherwise 
known as Philip Sands, attorney at law -- wrapped 
around the giant from earlier. The giant gave Ethan a 
sheepish grin, his lips covered in Sandy's red lip gloss. 

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"Yeah, fine, have a great night, bye." Ethan turned back 
to see Jamie scuttling away through the club at top 
speed. Oh, hell no. Jamie wasn't going anywhere 
without giving some highly specific and detailed 
explanations. 

Ethan gave chase, his bulkier build making it tough for 
him to weave though the crowds of men on the dance 
floor and catch up to Jamie, who had nearly made it to 
the door by the time Ethan reached him. McKinley 
always had been a speedy bastard. 

He grabbed the other man's arm as they both hit the 
threshold and pulled Jamie after him out onto the street. 

"What the fuck--?" Jamie dug in his heels, pulling Ethan 
to a stop. "Get off me, you fucking caveman." 

"Get off you? Jesus, I'm not letting you go even if I have 
to handcuff us together, Jamie." Ethan growled, 
tightening his grip on Jamie's muscular arm. "What in 
hell's name is going on here? What were you doing in 
Love Bites? Why are you dressed like that? Is this some 
sort of joke?" 

"Hey -- he said to let go, man." One of the bouncers, a 
bearded guy with a snake tattoo on his arm, stepped 
over. "Don't have a domestic on the doorstep or we'll 
call the cops." 

Jamie took advantage of Ethan's momentary distraction 
to wrench his arm free and shove Ethan away. He took 
off down the street, and once again Ethan followed, 
leaving the bouncer behind. 

What They Say About Love - 21 

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He fell into step beside Jamie, his longer legs easily 
keeping pace, although this time he didn't try to grab 
Jamie. 

"Jamie--" 

"Don't. Don't even talk to me," Jamie gritted out. "You 
have no right to demand explanations, you fucking liar. 
You're gay, aren't you?" 

"Me? I'm a liar? What about you? What about Beth and 
Anna and all the rest, you hypocrite?" 

Jamie ground to a halt and spun around to face Ethan in 
the middle of the sidewalk, forcing several couples to 
walk around them. James' face was flushed and his hair 
was all over the place, and despite himself -- despite the 
shock and anger -- Ethan felt his cock responding again. 
Jamie really was the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen. 
The other man looked amazing like this. 

Like he'd just rolled out of someone's bed. 

Ethan wished it had been his. 

"I'm not a hypocrite, you lying bastard. I'm bi! All right? 
I'm bisexual and I wanted to experiment a little, which I 
haven't done since college. I never went out with anyone 
just as a fucking cover, which is what you've been doing 
for years, isn't it? Jesus, when I think of all the double 
dates we went on -- how could you, man? How could 
you just fucking lie, right to my face like that? Why 
didn't you tell me? I'm your best friend." 

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Ethan felt a sudden pang of remorse as the anger in 
Jamie's voice gave way to naked hurt. 

"Well -- you never told me you were bi," he defended 
himself feebly. "I thought you were straight as a fucking 
ruler." 

"It's not the same thing and you know it." Now Jamie 
was the one who looked away, raking his fingers 
through his messy hair in that helpless gesture that 
always squeezed Ethan's heart. "I feel like I don't even 
know you, man. What else did you lie about?" 

"Nothing, I promise," Ethan said as he stepped closer to 
his friend, tilting his head to try and meet his eyes. 
"Look, this isn't the place for this. Come on, let's get 
some coffee or something and talk." 

Jamie hesitated, and Ethan stepped even closer, ignoring 
the curious looks from passersby. "Please, Jamie." 

Ethan reached out and hesitantly touched Jamie's 
shoulder. Jamie looked up at him, the movement causing 
his thin shirt to fall open, exposing one brown nipple. 

Ethan hastily suppressed the full body shudder that 
wanted to go through him and met Jamie's eyes, letting 
the other man see his sincerity. 

At last, Jamie sighed. "Fine. Let's go to Roast Room on 
West. They're open twenty-four seven." 

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THREE 

"Start at the beginning," Jamie said, taking a sip from 
his decaf latte. "When did you know you were gay?" 

Ethan crushed a couple of grains of sugar substitute with 
his swizzle stick, wishing he could avoid this question. 
"Um. I guess... always." 

There was a heavy silence -- one that the quiet sounds of 
hissing from the coffee machine and the jazz track 
playing on Roast Room's sound system couldn't touch. 
Ethan raised his eyes finally to see Jamie staring at him 
with complete disbelief. 

"At college?" 

Ethan nodded. 

"At school?" 

Ethan nodded again. He and Jamie had gone to the same 
school from freshman year. 

Jamie put his coffee down and rubbed his hands over his 
face, smearing his eye-liner. "I don't get 
it, Ethe. You were Stone Cold Stone. You screwed your 
way through the entire co-ed population. You had more 
het porn than most adult bookstores. I guess I can see 
why you'd keep quiet at school, but why did you keep on 
acting that way in college? And why didn't you ever tell 
me? You must have known I'd be cool with it." 

"How would I know that?" Ethan asked sarcastically, 
annoyance flickering up under the guilt. "You sure as 

What They Say About Love - 24 

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hell kept quiet about being bi. I thought you felt the 
same way as your dad." 

"Hey, my dad isn't a bigot!" Jamie protested. "Just 
because--" He broke off sharply, his expression 
changing, and Ethan nodded. 

"Exactly. If he'd been throwing racial slurs around, 
you'd have shot him down in a second. But you never 
said a word when he was talking about creampuffs and 
limp-wristed girls, did you? You used to laugh with him, 
in fact. Your sister used to tell the pair of you off. Not 
exactly an open-minded atmosphere. So I boasted and 
flirted and yeah, a few times I got into a girl's pants --
not unless they were clear it was strings-free, mind you -
- and I collected het porn and left it lying around so no 
one would go looking for the gay porn under the bed. 
My reputation built itself after that. And you'll 
remember that I never exactly volunteered to be set up, 
either. You and Beth wouldn't take no for an answer. I'm 
not proud of it, but it was the only way to get you off my 
back." 

Jamie nodded. "So... since college... you only kept it a 
secret from me? And my family?" 

Ethan shrugged uncomfortably. "More or less. My 
mother knows. Some of our shared friends know. Even a 
couple of people at work. But they all know that you 
don't know." 

Ethan took in Jamie's devastated expression and 
softened his tone. "You have to understand, things are 
different in the U.K., Jamie. Growing up there, things 
were much more open. Gay couples can even get 

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married there now. I came to the U.S. with Mum, and 
my first week there was that gay-bashing at the school, 
you remember? It made all the headlines. That kid 
needed ten hours of plastic surgery. It scared me, and I 
made my mind up then never to tell people unless I was 
sure they'd get it. It didn't seem worth getting my ass 
kicked. It definitely didn't seem worth losing my best 
friend. You mean a lot to me, Jamie." 

"You mean a lot to me too, Ethe," Jamie said. He smiled 
suddenly. "I guess I was a complete prick, huh? Sorry." 

"Not a complete prick," Ethan said. 

"Thanks," Jamie said, laughing. "You always make me 
feel better." 

"So, what about you?" Ethan said, finally taking a long 
gulp of his espresso. The coffee tasted great, but not as 
good as finally getting to share the truth with Jamie. It 
felt like a huge burden had been lifted off his back, one 
he'd been carrying so long that he'd stopped noticing the 
effort. "You'd better give me an explanation for the eye-
liner." 

Jamie's cheeks went a dull red and Ethan sniggered, 
nearly choking on his coffee. 

"Spur of the moment." 

"Oh, yeah? And the pants? You drop into the twenty-
four-seven leather goods shop on your way back from 
dumping Beth?" Ethan asked, joking but determined, 
too. He wasn't going to be the only one spilling his guts 
here. 

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"Ethan," Jamie said, suddenly serious. "Don't say that. I 
didn't dump Beth. I feel terrible about what happened. 
Me coming to Love Bites was a way to make myself 
feel less shitty." 

"Okay, I get that. Tell me." 

"I don't know. I -- er -- fucked a guy once in college, did 
some oral stuff. I really liked it, but I convinced myself 
that it was just... like a side interest. I had my dream, 
you know?" 

Ethan groaned. "Oh, the fucking dream." 

"Yeah, yeah -- I know how you feel about it, 
Neanderthal," Jamie said, rolling his eyes. "And I guess 
I had the same fears about my family's reaction that you 
did. But lately I've been thinking about it more and 
more, and tonight, when I went to dinner with Beth, it 
just came to a head. I got home, took a shower..." Jamie 
paused for a second, his face going red again, and 
hurriedly finished, "And got dressed -- and the pants 
were a gift from a friend, by the way -- and went straight 
back out again. I put the eye-liner on because the guy I 
knew in college used to wear it. I wanted to see if... I 
still felt the same way, if I still wanted that." 

"What answer did you get?" Ethan asked. 

Jamie met Ethan's eyes. "Yes. Definitely yes. I want a 
guy." 

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Ethan cleared his suddenly dry throat and dragged his 
gaze away from Jamie's, telling his cock firmly to 
behave. 

"Well, okay. But you realize you did a stupid thing 
tonight, right? You could have gotten a lot more than 
you were bargaining for. It's lucky I met you there 
before something went really wrong. Love Bites is a 
shark pit, and you were giving out all the wrong 
signals." 

"Wrong signals?" 

"Jesus, you're like a born-again virgin. I mean, the shirt's 
bad enough, but the make-up? And when you were 
dancing with me..." Ethan cleared his throat again. "You 
didn't realize what you were doing. You were acting like 
a bottom, Jamie." 

Jamie let out a low, dirty little chuckle, and Ethan's eyes 
shot back to him, astonished at the sly look on his face. 
"What?" 

"I wasn't giving out the wrong signals." 

Ethan's brow wrinkled. "What do you -- seriously?" 

Jamie nodded. "Riiight." 

Ethan swallowed, speechless. It was like every 
forbidden fantasy that he'd ever had, come to life and 
calmly drinking coffee across from him. Was Jamie 
serious? Seriously serious? For real? 

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"You don't have to look so shocked, man," Jamie said a 
little dryly. "We can't all be manly tops like you, you 
know. Wow, this is not how I saw my night ending. I 
thought I'd be face down and screaming by now. 
Screaming in the good way." 

He's doing it on purpose, Ethan thought, dazed. The sexy 
little bastard's deliberately taunting me. 

It was too much. 

"Fine," Ethan heard himself saying, as if from a great 
distance. "Your place or mine?" 

*** 

The drive back to James' house took place in complete 
silence. The tension in the car was so thick that James 
could barely breathe through it, and he was grateful that 
he could concentrate on driving. Otherwise, he might 
just have passed out. 

"Your place or mine," Ethan had said. And James had 
said, "Mine." 

Holy Christ on a crutch. Am I really about to have sex 
with Ethan? 

His fingers tightened on the wheel so much that it was a 
struggle to turn into his driveway. The car's engine went 
silent and they sat there, both staring out of the 
windshield in silence. James didn't know what Ethan 
was looking at, but he himself was finding that his eyes 
wouldn't focus properly at all. 

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After a minute, Ethan moved. James flinched as his 
friend's hand came to rest over his clenched fingers on 
the steering wheel. 

"You don't have to do this," Ethan said quietly. "I didn't 
mean to make it into pissing contest or some macho 
bullshit like that. You don't have to prove anything to 
me." 

James' knotted-up muscles relaxed all at once, and he 
turned to look at Ethan's shadowed, serious face. "I 
know that, you idiot. I want to do it." 

"Jamie--" 

He interrupted, turning his hand over and lacing his 
fingers through Ethan's as he spoke. "You're the only 
one that calls me that, you know? I like it. I've always 
liked it. I went out tonight to find a guy to fuck me, 
Ethan, and I found you. Not some stranger who I 
couldn't wait to get away from once the deed was done, 
but my best friend. The person I trust most in the 
world." 

Ethan's fingers tightened on his and the other man let out 
a noise that was half laugh, half sigh. 

"Hell. How am I supposed to say no to that?" 

"You're not." James slid his fingers away and opened his 
door, looking back over his shoulder. "Hurry the hell up, 
stud. My cherry won't bust itself." 

James slammed his door on Ethan's choked laughter and 
waited for Ethan to get out before locking the doors. 

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Ethan rounded the hood and caught James' hand again as 
they headed for the front door. That little gesture 
warmed James' heart in ways he couldn't even begin to 
explain. 

"Ah -- when you said 'cherry,' did you mean... like, it's 
been a long time, or..." Ethan's voice trailed off as James 
tapped in the security code, opened the door, and 
stepped inside. 

"Nope. First time ever." 

Ethan stepped past James, letting go of James' hand as 
he waited for him to shut the door. 

James turned to say something else, but before he could 
get a word out, Ethan's mouth crashed down on his lips, 
the force of it shoving him back against the wood panel. 

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FOUR 

Ethan's tongue swept past James' lips, stroking deeply, 
making James catch his breath, making him respond 
automatically, opening wider. He'd expected it to be 
awkward at first, difficult to let go, but it wasn't. He 
didn't worry about it being Ethan's tongue in his mouth, 
Ethan's leg pushing between his. He didn't care. All he 
wanted was to get closer. He grabbed hold of Ethan's 
shoulders, kissing back, pushing against the bigger man. 

"Jesus, Jamie, you're on fire," Ethan panted, pushing 
back so that James hit the door again. 
One of Ethan's hand's cupped his head -- stopping his 
skull from crashing into the door -- and the other slid 
underneath James' shirt, calloused fingers scratching as 
they roamed restlessly up his back, then down to his 
waist and below, latching onto one ass cheek. James let 
out a grunt as Ethan's fingers sank into the taut flesh, 
hard enough to ache. Hard enough to leave bruises. The 
thought of Ethan's marks on his skin made his cock fill, 
and he ground it against Ethan's thigh where it pushed 
between his. Still not close enough. 

He took a firmer grip on Ethan's shoulder and hitched 
his leg up, groaning when his cock hit Ethan's hip just 
right. "Fuck," he muttered, catching the other man's 
lower lip between his teeth and sucking hard. 

"Any time now," Ethan said. "Just let me get these pants 
open," 

James breathed in as Ethan's hand slid up from his ass 
and into the gap between his stomach and the leather 

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pants, brushing against James' treasure trail as he flicked 
the snap open. 

"Careful," James managed to mutter as he speared his 
fingers through Ethan's fine hair. "Commando." 

"Shit, Jamie, you want me to come in my underwear?" 
Ethan said, laughing. 

His big, rough hand dove into James' pants and cupped 
his balls, and Jamie made a noise -- a noise he knew he 
would find embarrassing later, but right now he didn't 
care -- and managed to gasp out, "No, I want you to 
come in me." 

"Holy fuck," Ethan muttered, and once again James was 
taken by surprise as Ethan pulled his hand out, 
disentangled James' leg from around his waist, then bent 
and heaved James over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. 

"You loon," James said breathlessly as his face hit the 
small of Ethan's back. 

"You reap the whirlwind, babe," Ethan said, slightly 
winded as he took the stairs. 

James reached down and grabbed hold of Ethan's ass 
with both hands. Ethan growled and took the last two 
steps in a jump, smashing open James' bedroom door 
and flipping James down onto the bed. 

James hit the comforter with an "oof." The moonlight 
coming through the open drapes lit the room almost as 
bright as day, illuminating Ethan's face. 

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"You in a rush?" James asked, grabbing hold of his left 
boot and dragging it off. 

"Damn right," Ethan said, ripping his own jacket and 
shirt off together, exposing a heavily muscled chest 
covered with thick, golden blond hair. "You?" 

In answer, James, his eyes riveted to that amazing, lick-
able chest, sent his other boot flying and wrestled his 
shirt over his head without bothering to unbutton it. By 
the time he'd peeled his leather trousers down, Ethan 
was naked and crawling onto the bed toward him. Ethan 
grabbed the pants and flung them off the bed. 

"I didn't think anything could look as good as your ass in 
those trousers," he breathed, moving up over James, 
caging his prone form with arms and legs. "But this 
blows that out of the water." 

"Something ought to be getting blown right about now," 
James said to cover his sudden nervousness. Ethan was 
big. Really big. All over. Finn had been about the same 
size as James, and anyway, James had been doing the 
fucking then. Having Ethan loom over him like that 
made him feel suddenly vulnerable. Not in a bad way. 
Actually, it excited him, and that was strange. It was a 
side of himself he'd never realized existed. A side that 
looked at Ethan's big, red cock and wanted it. Wanted it 
inside. 

"Subtle, baby," Ethan said, grinning. 

"Says the guy who practically dry-humped me on the 
dance floor," James replied, entranced by that grin and 
the unconscious endearment. 

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Ethan leaned down, still supporting his weight on his 
elbows, and laid a kiss on James' lips -- a soft, sucking 
kiss with a little toothiness that made James' cock throb 
longingly. 

Ethan's mouth moved down to James' jaw, then his neck, 
and he made another one of those embarrassing noises 
when Ethan nibbled on his collarbone. 

"Hmmm, interesting," Ethan rumbled, laving the place 
with his tongue until James wriggled uncontrollably, 
grabbing Ethan's head and tugging at his hair. 

"Very interesting. Are you as sensitive here?" Without 
warning, Ethan latched onto James' nipple, biting down 
firmly. James let out a sound that could only be 
described as a shriek, arching up and managing to get 
his leg around Ethan's waist again, giving his poor dick 
some tiny relief as he ground it hard against the other 
man. 

"Jesus, you're a wildcat," Ethan said, letting go of James' 
nipple and grabbing James' leg, shoving it back down 
onto the bed. "How did I miss this all these years?" 

"You'll be missing your balls in about five seconds if 
you don't fucking do something," James said through 
gritted teeth, struggling against the hand that held him 
down. 

"Threats now," Ethan said, shaking his head. "All right, 
I'm going." 

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Ethan scooted back on the bed, using both hands to 
spread James' legs flat on the bed. His hair trailed over 
James' stomach and then his tongue did the same to the 
tip of James' cock, running down the sensitive, leaking 
slit. Then his mouth closed over the engorged head and 
he sucked hard, his head sinking down slowly. James 
watched in disbelief as the other man just kept on going, 
taking James in deeper and deeper until finally James 
felt himself hit the back of Ethan's throat. James 
expected the other man to gag. Instead, Ethan 
swallowed, and James' head hit the pillow, hips jerking 
up. 

"Ethan!" 

There was no reply from the other end of the bed. Ethan 
swallowed again, then slowly rose, swirling his tongue. 
He came off James' prick with a popping sound and 
looked up with a shit-eating grin. 

"Comments? Suggestions?" Ethan asked. 

"Fuck me. Now. Please." 

The smile disappeared from Ethan's face in a heartbeat 
and he swarmed up James' body. James met him, 
devouring Ethan's mouth, wrapping around the other 
man and rubbing desperately all along the length of the 
solid, furry body. 

He inched his hand down to Ethan's groin, but they were 
pressed too close for him to get his fingers between 
them, and James couldn't bear to draw back. 

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"I don't have any lube," James said between kisses. 
"Will the stuff on the nightstand do?" 

Ethan reached out one long arm and blindly scrabbled 
about on the nightstand until he came up with Beth's 
abandoned moisturizer. 

"This stuff is pink, James," he said flatly, squinting in 
the moonlight. 

"Why do we care? We're gay," James said, and Ethan 
laughed. 

"Guess you're right. Condoms?" 

"Other nightstand, top drawer," James said, sitting up as 
Ethan moved off him. James started to turn over onto 
hands and knees, but Ethan caught him and pushed him 
back. 

"No way. I want to see your face." 

James felt that strange thrill of vulnerability again. "I 
didn't know you could do it face to face." 

Ethan tossed a condom down on the comforter and 
leaned over James, brushing the tangled hair back out of 
his eyes with a gentle touch. "There's a lot you don't 
know, baby. I promise I'll show you it all." 

James' breath froze in his lungs and he stared up at the 
other man, trying to figure out how to reply. But Ethan 
was already moving down his body again, helping 
James to grab his legs behind his knees and pull them 
back 

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"Keep those there," Ethan said, sitting back and 
grabbing the container of moisturizer. James felt 
something cold touch his perineum and winced a little. 

"It'll heat up soon, believe me," Ethan reassured him 
from between James' thighs. His fingers swirled the 
chilly stuff down until they reached James' tight hole 
and circled it, pressing gently. 
James thought about his experience with Finn and took a 
deep breath, letting it out slowly as Ethan pushed again, 
harder this time -- and suddenly a finger was sliding 
inside him. James let out a low, deep moan at the 
feeling, at the slight burn and the fullness that should 
have felt wrong but somehow didn't. 

"You opened right up," Ethan breathed, sounding awed. 

The finger inside James twisted gently, withdrew a little, 
and pushed deeper, and James arched, groaning again. 
More moisturizer went on his hole and another finger 
prodded at the entrance. When it popped through and 
joined the first, it brushed against his prostate, making 
James twitch. 

"Oh, God. I'm ready. Do it." 

Ethan's fingers circled inside, scissoring and moving 
deeper. 

"Ethe, I mean it. Now." 

"Wait a second," Ethan said, pressing a kiss to the inside 
of James' thigh. "God, I wish you could see this. It's 
amazing." 

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His fingers twisted one more time and then withdrew, 
and James lifted his head to see Ethan grab 
the condom packet and rip it open. 

"Next time, I'll put one on you myself," he promised. 
"With my mouth." 

"I'll hold you to that," Ethan said, rolling the condom 
into place and pinching the tip, then slathering more of 
the cream over it. 

James held out his arms. He'd gone past pride now, or 
machismo, or anything but needing Ethan inside him. 
Ethan moved over him again, taking his hands and 
kissing each palm. All the urgency and playfulness had 
melted away, smoothing out to leave... loving. That's 
what this was, what Ethan was doing. Loving him. 

Ethan pressed James' hands to his broad shoulders. 

"If you need me to slow down, dig in," he said. "Okay?" 

"Okay." 

Ethan caught James' haunches and lifted him so that 
James' ass rested on Ethan's thighs, then leaned forward 
to lean one hand beside James' head. 

Ethan's other hand moved down to where his cock was 
poking at James' balls. James felt a moment of regret 
that he hadn't gotten to touch that cock yet. Then the 
blunt tip was at James hole, pushing in, and he stopped 
thinking. 

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It burned. James did his deep breathing thing and the 
burn eased, but it still wasn't easy. It seemed to take 
forever for the head to inch inside him. He gritted his 
teeth, determined not to whimper. 

"Jamie?" 

"Keep going," he managed to get out. He bore down, 
breathing out again, and just like with Ethan's fingers, 
suddenly the resistance went and Ethan drove inside. 
Ethan's cock brushed against James' prostate again and 
James felt himself tighten up, but this time it was good. 
The discomfort blended into the pleasure now as James 
opened his eyes -- he hadn't even realized he'd closed 
them -- and looked up into Ethan's moonlight-silvered 
face. 

"Oh," he whispered. "Feels good." 

"Yeah?" Ethan whispered. He leaned back, James' hands 
falling from his shoulders, and grasped James' hips, 
rotating his ass gently, making James' insides spasm 
with pleasure. "What about that?" 

"Do it again," James said, thrusting into Ethan's 
movement and feeling the hard cock glide deeper inside. 
"Oh, God, do it again." 

Ethan kept up the gentle circling of his hips until James 
was begging, sweat springing up all over him, hands 
gripping handfuls of the comforter hard enough that the 
fabric was parting under his short nails. 

"Ready for more?" Ethan asked, his voice a low, 
rumbling rasp. 

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"There's more?" 

In answer, Ethan dragged James farther down the bed, 
wrapped his arms around James' back, and heaved him 
up until he sat on Ethan's lap. James shouted as the 
sudden movement forced Ethan's cock so deep he could 
feel it in his stomach. Their faces were level now, and he 
closed his eyes and took Ethan's mouth, thrusting his 
tongue deep, echoing what Ethan's cock was doing in his 
ass. He groaned into the kiss, writhing and grinding 
down. Ethan's pubic hair scratched his hole, Ethan's 
hands were digging into his back and he was coming, 
fuck he was coming, like fire spraying out of his cock--

"Look at me, Jamie," Ethan gasped out. 

James opened his eyes in time to see Ethan's face go 
tight with ecstasy, in time to share the orgasm, both of 
them sweating and grunting out their pleasure together. 

They stayed locked together for a long time -- or it felt 
like a long time to James -- foreheads pressed together, 
legs tangled up, Ethan's softening cock still buried deep. 

"Jesus, Jamie," Ethan whispered, and James could only 
nod. That pretty much summed it up. 

Finally, Ethan admitted he had cramp in his thigh and 
James hurriedly got off, unable to hold back the tiny, 
wounded noise as Ethan's dick slipped free. 

"So... fucking sexy..." Ethan said, rubbing his knotted-
up leg. "I want to do it again... right now." 

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"How about you wait 'til you're not teary with pain?" 
James said as he forced Ethan to straighten his leg and 
then rubbed at the long, cramping muscle until the pain 
finally passed. Finally Ethan collapsed back across the 
bed. 

James grabbed a handful of tissues and wiped his 
stomach and ass -- wincing at the tenderness -- then, 
when it seemed that Ethan wasn't going to move, dealt 
with the condom, too. He gently petted Ethan's cock for 
a minute. Even limp, it was pretty sizeable. He was 
stunned it'd fit. No wonder he was sore. He threw the 
wadded-up tissues into the trash can next to the bed and 
then lay down, throwing one arm across Ethan's chest. 

"Hey," Ethan said sleepily. "Now that I'm weak and 
defenseless, you'd better not take advantage of me." 

"Too late," James said. "Already did." 

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FIVE 

Sunlight made Ethan's eyes water, but it was the sound 
of Jenny McKinley -- Jamie's mother -- calling out, 
"James! Yoo-hoo, sleepy head!" that made him bolt 
upright in bed. 

Beside him, James was sprawled out on his stomach, his 
face hidden in his pillow. 

Holy fucking shit on a stick. 

"Jamie," he hissed, shaking the other man roughly. 
"Wake the hell up. Your mum's here!" 

"Mmmrmmggff." Jamie said. "Grrgwwy. Off." 

Ethan pinched Jamie hard in the ass, and the other man 
came up swinging. Only reflexes honed from years of 
boxing classes saved Ethan from a black eye. 

"What? What?" Jamie said, looking around wildly. His 
hair looked like he'd lived through a tornado, and his 
neck sported two large, red hickeys. Ethan didn't know 
whether to be turned on or horrified. 

"I can hear you up there, James!" Jenny's voice said --
from the bottom of the stairs by the sound of it. "If you 
don't answer me in about two seconds, I'm coming up!" 

James jolted like a cat whose tail had gotten too close to 
an electrical outlet, jumped off the bed, and slammed the 
bedroom door shut. 

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"I'll be down in a minute, Mom!" he screamed through 
the door. "Just wait!" 

"You've got time to shower and dress," the voice came 
through the wood. "But hurry up. We're supposed to be 
at the hotel at two, and I promised we'd pick up Amy 
and Bill. I knew you'd forget." 

Shit! How had Ethan forgotten that Jamie's father was 
celebrating a birthday -- which was actually on Monday 
-- today? He was supposed to be going himself. Ethan 
whipped his head around to look at the clock radio on 
the nightstand and gaped when he saw that it was after 
noon. 

"You want me to put the coffee on for you?" Jenny 
shouted. 

"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks!" Jamie shouted back. 

When no further threats were forthcoming, Ethan 
slumped back on the pillows. Jamie leaned his forehead 
on the door, catching his breath. 

"Jesus," Ethan said. "I think I just lost twelve years" 

Jamie didn't answer. Ethan stared at his best friend's 
naked back, waiting for him to turn around. Silence 
seemed to crystallize in the air like ice, turning Ethan's 
whole body cold. 

"Jamie, look at me," he said hoarsely, feeling the ice 
starting to close around his heart. 

Jamie slowly, unwillingly turned around. 

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When Ethan had imagined coming out to Jamie -- and 
he had imagined it, so many times -- he'd always 
pictured a certain look on his friend's face. A look of 
revulsion and horror. Imagining that had been enough to 
make him put the idea away every time. 

This was worse. 

Jamie's face was blank, as empty and noncommittal as if 
Ethan were a complete stranger whom Jamie had found 
sitting, uninvited, in his bed. After a second, Jamie's 
eyes flicked away from Ethan to the floor. His jaw was 
clenched so hard that a muscle ticked there. 

Ethan didn't need to ask any questions. He knew exactly 
what was happening. 

Jamie'd done his little bi-curious experiment, and now 
that he'd had his fill of dick, he was back to being Mr. 
Homophobe, disgusted both by what he'd done and the 
person he'd done it with. 

Without a word, Ethan got off the bed, collected his 
clothes from their scattered places on the carpet, and 
walked into the bathroom. He closed the door and 
locked it behind him. Jamie would just have to use the 
fucking guest room. 

He dropped his things on the tiled floor and sat on the 
toilet seat, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes. 
What was wrong with him? Why hadn't he seen this 
coming? Ethan had always laughed at Jamie for being 
the romantic, but which one of them had gotten carried 
away last night? Ethan, that was who. He should have 

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realized that just because Jamie had gone out searching 
for a blow job following a bad break up, it didn't mean 
the other man was ready to come out to anyone or have 
any kind of a relationship with a guy. He shouldn't have 
opened himself up to this. But he had. And now, by the 
looks of it, he'd lost his best friend. 

Jesus, how were they going to work together if Jamie 
was so disgusted that he couldn't even meet Ethan's 
eyes? 

If Ethan was so fucking in love with Jamie that he 
wanted to curl up and die every time the other man 
looked at him like that? 

He climbed wearily into the shower, turning the water 
up to scalding and shoving his head under. He was still 
standing in the same position ten minutes later when 
there was a tentative knock at the door. 

"I'm leaving now," Jamie's voice came through the door 
like a knife and stabbed Ethan right in the chest. "You 
know the door code." 

There was a pause while Jamie clearly waited for a 
response, but Ethan had nothing to answer that cool, 
polite tone. 

"Mom and Dad are expecting you at the party," Jamie 
said after a minute. 

But you wish to God I'd stay away so you don't have to 
see my face,
 Ethan thought, banging his head against the 
tiles. Jesus, why don't you just say it and get it over 
with? 

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"Goodbye then." 

Ethan waited for a couple of minutes, until he was sure 
Jamie had gone away, before he punched the tiled wall 
as hard as he could. 

*** 

James sat in the passenger seat of his mom's car as she 
drove him across town to his sister's. They had arranged 
beforehand that Jamie's mom would pick up James and 
Amy, and Amy's husband Bill, so that they could drink 
at the party if they wanted and catch a taxi home without 
worrying about their cars. 

James couldn't believe he'd forgotten his father's 
birthday. Luckily, he'd bought the present and card 
weeks ago and already handed them over, but he knew 
that if his mother hadn't turned up at the house, he'd 
probably have missed the party completely. And he 
knew why. 

He'd spent the night screwing the hell out of his best 
friend and business partner. No -- it was worse than that. 
He'd spent the night having the hell screwed out of him. 
And he'd loved it. 

What had felt natural and sexy and right in the middle of 
the night felt really scary in the daylight. That weird 
vulnerability, the sense of tenderness, the sheer intensity 
of everything that had happened made James feel like 
he'd completely lost track of reality. He knew that he'd 
hurt Ethan's feelings this morning. He hadn't been able 
to help himself. He'd taken one look and wanted to fling 

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himself straight back into Ethan's arms. Into his arms! 
What was he, a fucking fourteen-year-old girl? 

How could one night with Ethan have wrecked him like 
this? He felt as if his friend had taken him to pieces and 
put him back together in some subtly different way, so 
that nothing was the same. He resented it and Ethan, for 
making him feel it. 

"What's wrong?" 

James jumped hard enough to give himself whiplash, 
finally realizing that his mom had stopped at a red light 
and was giving him a concerned look. 

"Ah -- nothing, Mom. Why?" 

"Well, to begin with, wasn't I supposed to be collecting 
you and Beth together today? Where is she?" 

Holy fuck. James had somehow managed to completely 
forget that fiasco. He thought about Beth's face when 
he'd told her he didn't love her, and cursed himself for a 
heartless prick. Then he remembered Ethan's face this 
morning and felt a blade of remorse slice through his 
heart, proving it was still there. 

He took a deep breath and finally managed to say, "Beth 
isn't coming, Mom. We broke up." 

"Oh, James," his mom said. "I'm sorry." 

James blinked and looked at his mother more closely as 
the light changed and they pulled away again. "You 
don't sound surprised." 

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"Well, to be honest, I'm not, really," his mother said. "I 
know you liked Beth a lot. We all did. But I didn't ever 
think you were passionately in love. It felt more like you 
were marking time." 

"Hey," James said, stung by the similarity of the words 
to what Ethan had said last night. "We were serious." 

"I know, honey," she soothed. "But you can't force love 
to happen just because it's convenient. Sometimes 
people that are perfect for us on paper just leave us cold 
in real life. You don't think that I'd have chosen your 
dad's profile off a dating site, do you? Interests: football, 
baseball, football, and beer?" 

James forced a laugh, but his mother's words had struck 
home. She was right. Beth was everything he'd told 
himself he wanted, and it had gone completely wrong. 
Ethan... Ethan had never been in any fantasy Jamie had 
about his dream life -- although the other man been in a 
few fantasies of the other type -- and yet it was Ethan 
that made Jamie laugh, Ethan that made Jamie feel safe. 
Ethan that Jamie couldn't stop thinking about. 

"Are you really upset?" his mother asked. 

"Huh? Oh, uh, I guess." He raked his hand though his 
hair. "No, not really." 

What had his dream been about? Was it about the Kodak 
moment cliché of a man and a woman and two point 
four kids? Or was it something deeper? At his core, 
hadn't James just wanted to find a person -- the one, 
right person -- who made him happy? Someone to love 

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and be with forever? Why did that person have to own a 
pair of breasts to qualify? 

"What happened? Did you have a fight? Did Beth meet 
someone else?" 

"No," Jamie said quietly, and before he could stop 
himself, he finished. "I did." 

"What?" Jamie's mom shot him an astonished look. 
"You did? Who? When? Do I know her?" 
Jamie's hands clenched into fists on his lap. "Him." 

Jamie's mom frowned as if trying to make sense of a 
complicated sentence. "Wait. Did you 
say--? James, did you say him?" 

"Yes." He let out long, slow breath and forced himself to 
follow through. "I think I'm in love, Mom. With a man. 
With Ethan." 

"Jesus Christ on a pogo stick." 

She jerked the wheel to the right, ignoring the outraged 
honks of traffic as she pulled up onto the sidewalk. She 
slammed the car into park and turned to look at James. 

"All right," she said. "Start talking." 

And James did. He told her about the boy he'd been with 
in college and how hard he'd tried to forget it, about the 
suffocating depression that had been cloaking him for 
months, about planning to propose to Beth and nearly 
throwing up, about going to Love Bites on a whim and 
meeting Ethan there, about Ethan being gay and keeping 

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it a secret from everyone, and about the fact that they 
had been together that morning when she arrived and 
James, in his panic and fear, had rejected the man he 
thought he loved so thoroughly that Ethan might never 
forgive him. 

When he finished, he sat staring at her while she looked 
at him in silence for the longest time. Then she slumped 
back against the seat. 

"When I see your father, I'm going to give him such a 
slap upside the head, he'll feel it next week," she 
muttered. 

"What? Why?" Ethan said, taken aback by the apparent 
change of subject. 

"Because this is partly his fault. Of course it's partly my 
fault, too, because I let him get away with talking that 
way in my house. If I'd realized it was going to end up in 
a lifetime of repression for my son and the boy I think of 
as an adopted son, I... well, I'd have made myself heard 
instead of putting up with it because I didn't want to 
argue. When Ethan's mother brought him here after the 
divorce, he seemed to fit right into our family -- I was 
always glad that he had a good male role model in your 
dad. I can't imagine how awful it must have been for 
him to hear someone he looked up to like a father 
talking like that. It must have been pretty awful for you 
when you realized you were bisexual." 

"Er... it gave me a few sleepless nights," James 
admitted. 

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She turned back to look at him, her eyes fierce. "Listen, 
honey. This is the twenty-first century. I don't care if 
you like boys. I don't care if Ethan does. I just want you 
both to be happy. But between us, it seems liked we've 
managed to make you and Ethan miserable, and I won't 
have it anymore. Do you really love him?" 

James nodded. "I've never felt like this before. It might 
sound stupid when we've known each other so long, but 
it's like... the feelings were always there, underneath the 
surface. I was just too scared to look." 

"And you think Ethan feels the same way?" 

"I think so. I hope so." 

"Well, then you just broke his heart, kiddo, and it's not 
going to be easy to fix. You'd better get ready to grovel," 
she said firmly. "Grovel like you never did before. If 
your father had treated me that way after the first time 
we were together, I'd have strangled him with his small 
intestine and staked him out for the birds. You need to 
prove to Ethan not only that you care about him, but that 
you're proud of him and your relationship." 

James nodded, the faintest twinkling of an idea lighting 
up at the back of his mind. "Right. Er... You mind if we 
stop by a florist?" 

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SIX 

Ethan almost didn't go to the party. Frankly, he was sick 
to the back teeth of the whole McKinley family right 
now. He didn't know how he was going to act normally 
when he felt like his heart had just been ripped out of his 
chest and used for toilet paper, and he certainly didn't 
know how he was going to face Jamie again. He already 
planned on taking the day off on Monday and working 
from home. He thought he might be doing that a lot 
from now on, and the idea of losing the close working 
relationship he'd always had with his friend was just 
another kick in the gonads. 

But although they weren't perfect, Jenny and Frank 
McKinley had always been good to him, and he knew 
they'd miss him if he just didn't show up. So he planned 
to step in late enough to miss the first flurry of greetings, 
hug anyone who looked at him sideways, and then 
disappear again as soon as he could. He figured avoiding 
Jamie wouldn't be a problem -- the other man would be 
doing all the work for him. 

He was so busy plastering a smile over his face that he 
didn't notice the funny looks he was attracting when he 
first stepped into the hotel's small function room. The 
place was decorated with silver and white streamers and 
balloons, and there was a banner at the end of the room 
above the loaded buffet table that said "Happy Sixty-
Fifth Birthday Frank!" There were also a lot of flowers 
around the place, more than he'd have expected to see at 
a man's party. 

In fact, it looked like someone had maxed out their 
credit card buying the entire stock of a florist shop. 

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There were about eight kinds of roses, sunflowers, 
sweet-peas, gardenias, orchids, and carnations -- and 
that was just what he caught at one look. Love of 
gardening was one of the few things his father had 
passed on before running out on Ethan and his mother, 
and Ethan had always planned to have a garden of his 
own one day. One day, when he settled down and 
bought a house and had someone to live in it with... 

One day was never going to happen now. The only one 
who knew about his love of flowers -- the only one he 
wanted to share his garden with -- didn't want him. 
Unconsciously, Ethan looked around the room for 
Jamie, and felt a wave of relief mixed with sadness 
when he couldn't spot him anywhere. The man had 
probably hidden the moment Ethan came through the 
door. 

"Hey, Ethe!" Jamie's teenage cousin Rachel appeared 
before him, giggling, and Ethan braced himself to get 
groped as usual. Instead, he was surprised to get a chaste 
peck on the cheek and a wink. "He's a lucky boy," she 
said coyly, before her mother ran up and dragged her 
away with a conspiratorial look. 

Huh? 

Ethan dragged his eyes away from the retreating pair 
and looked around to see that quite a few people were 
casting curious looks his way. He became conscious of 
an air of suppressed excitement in the groups of people 
gathered around the room. A few of his employees were 
there, but instead of hurrying over to him as they 
normally would, they hung back as if waiting for 
something to happen. 

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Instincts clamoring, Ethan began to back slowly toward 
the door, but before he could get there, Jenny appeared 
before him, beaming. 

"Ethan! How are you, honey? We've been waiting for 
you to get here." 

"You have?" he asked as she wrapped her arm around 
his and guided him farther into the room. 

"Of course! Frank, haven't we been wondering where 
Ethan was?" 

Ethan wondered if Jenny and Frank had had an 
argument or something, because Frank's face flushed 
pink when he caught sight of Ethan and Jenny 
approaching arm in arm. Ethan expected to be offered 
the usual manly handshake, but instead Frank surprised 
him by reaching out and giving him a warm hug. 

"Great to see you, boy," he said, his voice sounding a 
little muffled as he slapped Ethan's back before releasing 
him. "Wouldn't be a party without you." He turned away 
abruptly, sniffing. 

Ethan cast a questioning look at Jenny, who gave him 
that same beaming smile. "Allergies. He's been bawling 
like a baby all day." 

"Frank has allergies?" 

"It's the pollen." 

"Yeah, I noticed the flowers. Whose idea was that?" 

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"James'." 

Ethan hoped he concealed the flinch. "Right. Ah, Jenny 
I'm really sorry, but I can't stay too long 
today. I have some work--" 

"Yes, I'm sure you do, but hush up now because James 
wants to talk to you." 

She turned him around, and Ethan was distantly aware 
of the room falling silent as he came face to face with 
Jamie. 

The other man was dressed way more formally than 
anyone else in the room, in a tux and black tie. He was 
holding a bouquet of a dozen roses -- red, yellow, white, 
pink and every other color imaginable. But more than 
either of those things, Ethan's attention was riveted by 
his friend's face. 

The blank look from this morning was gone. Jamie's 
face was full of so much emotion that it almost hurt to 
see it. Hope. Regret. Apprehension. 

And he was wearing eye-liner. 

"Jamie." Ethan breathed. "What are you...?" 

"Ethan, I'm sorry," Jamie said, holding out the flowers. 
His voice wavered a little as he carried on. "I know I 
was a total shit this morning. I was stupid and afraid and 
I hurt you. But I won't do it again, I promise. Please say 
you'll forgive me." 

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Without realizing he meant to, Ethan reached out and 
took the flowers. He stared down at them for a moment, 
then looked around at the room full of people --
including Jenny and Frank and Jamie's little sister Amy -
- and then back at Jamie. 

He swallowed, then said, "That depends." 

Jamie's eyes -- impossibly big surrounded by that black 
make-up -- went wider. "Depends on what?" 

"On why you want me to forgive you," Ethan said, voice 
deepening as he fought to get the words out. "If you 
want me to forgive you so that we can go back to being 
friends and business partners and pretend that nothing 
ever happened, then-- " 

"Then what?" 

"Then no. I don't forgive you." 

Jamie moved closer, until the roses Ethan held were in 
danger of being crushed between them. 

"What if I want you forgive me because I..." Jamie 
seemed to take a deep breath. Then he locked his eyes 
on Ethan like a pair of blue lasers. "What if I love you? 
What if I want us to work on the dream -- both our 
dreams -- together?" 

In the midst of his emotional turmoil, Ethan couldn't 
help stealing a look at Jamie's family. Jenny was 
grinning through tears. Amy gave him a thumbs up sign. 
Frank nodded at him gravely, more sober than Ethan had 

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ever seen the older man. Ethan imagined there was a 
look of apology in his face. 

Ethan looked back at Jamie. "Then I guess I'd better 
forgive you, since I love you so damn much." 

The flowers went flying as Jamie grabbed for Ethan. 
Their mouths found each other in a deep, devastating 
kiss, and it took a moment for Ethan to realize that the 
ringing in his ears was the party crowd applauding. He 
felt dizzy, hardly able to believe that he was holding 
Jamie in his arms, here in front of practically everyone 
they knew, and that they could be open, finally, about 
everything. 

"I do love you," Jamie said. "I can't believe it took me 
this long to figure it out." 

"Neither can I. You'll just have to make it up to me. I've 
got some ideas about that..." Ethan nipped gently at 
Jamie's lower lip, laughing when the other man jerked 
involuntarily. 

"Hey!" Jamie whispered. "No teeth in public!" 

"Too late. You know what they say about love, baby. It 
bites." 

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What They Say About Love 

Copyright © 2010 by Alexi Silversmith 

All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or 
reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written 
permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in 
critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere 
Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680 

Cover illustration copyright Alessia Brio 
Used with permission 

ISBN: 978-1-61040-048-0 

Printed in the United States of America. 

Torquere Press, Inc.: High Ball electronic edition / September 
2010 

Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, Inc., 
PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680 

What They Say About Love - 59