The Best Ever

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The Best Ever

 2013 by Deanna Wadsworth

ISBN: 978-1-61333-564-2

Cover art by Tibbs Designs

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The Best Ever

Prologue

“Hey, where are you going?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it!” Jason Lewis raced past his startled sister.
“Wait—”
“No!” He dashed upstairs, hot tears welling in his eyes.
Abby tried to be understanding but, twenty years his senior, his sister was far

too old to remember the evils of high school. Besides she had been born
gorgeous—red hair looked great on women—and she didn’t care what others
thought about her. He wished he could at least pretend he didn’t care.

Jason hated high school. He fucking hated it.
It was like hell, only instead of Dante’s demons torturing him, he had the

lacrosse team, the football team, and any other bully or popular creep who
thought a skinny, redheaded dork resembled a punching bag.

Wiping furiously at his face, he threw open his bedroom door, grateful for the

sanctuary. He chucked his ripped backpack and its ice cream-covered contents in
the corner. His fifteenth birthday present from Abby, ruined after two months.
Lips trembling, he headed for his bed, intending to dive under the covers and cry
his eyes out until he forgot David Kilburn had emptied a milkshake all over him—
to the very enthusiastic cheers and jeers of all the beautiful people in his high
school.

The flush of a toilet drew him to a halt.
His gaze darted toward his bathroom. Who was there?
Oh crap!
Thursday.
Blake Huntington had come for his math lesson. Abby must have let him up

already.

This was all he needed. Another jock. Not that Blake acted like the others.

Jason had been concerned about tutoring the senior-class star pitcher, but the
guy had turned out to be pretty decent for a jock. Not dumb but, like a lot of

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people, he had a difficult time understanding math. Six months from graduation,
Blake’s parents had hired Jason, a sophomore mathlete, to tutor him twice a
week. Blake had been recruited by a Big Ten university as a relief pitcher, but if
Jason couldn’t help, he could forget the scholarship—probably the only reason he
treated Jason like a fellow human being instead of duct-taping him in his
underwear to the flagpole.

Jeez…that had been the worst day of his life. Abby had freed him when she

picked him up for an orthodontist appointment. An orthopedic surgeon and a
formidable woman, she had threatened to sue the school and the parents of all
the kids involved. But he had refused to name anyone. Things would’ve gotten
worse. He still remembered the look she’d worn—disappointed the little brother
she’d raised refused to stand up for himself. He knew she wished he could be
tougher.

But like all the bullies said, he really was a pussy.
Again, hopeless tears streamed down his face. He brushed at them, needing to

get it together. Water running in the bathroom meant Blake was washing his
hands and would be out any second. He wrestled his shirt off and grabbed a clean
one from the hamper. Pulling it on, he glanced in the mirror. The dark orange
hair—auburn, Abby called it—his pale face now red from crying, and puffy brown
eyes behind his glasses. And the shirt was a wrinkled mess. He looked terrible.

He prayed Blake wouldn’t say anything.
The bathroom door opened.
“Hi, Blake!”
Drawing up short, the tall muscular jock jumped.
Waaay too chipper. Idiot!
A gorgeous smile cut through Blake’s tanned face. His wavy, jet-black hair, in

need of a trim, fell over his ears. The kinda movie star hair Jason wished he’d
been born with. His expression sparkled with happiness. Of course, what didn’t
Blake have to be happy about? Attractive, rich, and athletic—he possessed the
holy trinity of high school popularity requirements.

“Hey there, Jay.”
Butterflies danced in his stomach when Blake called him Jay. Well, they were

The Best Ever

more like pterodactyls putting on an air show, but that was beside the point. No
one had ever nicknamed him before, and he liked it. More than he should. But he
shouldn’t be experiencing butterflies or anything in the butterfly species or genus
over another dude. For crying out loud, he didn’t want anyone to think he was
gay. Might as well permanently tattoo the words “kick me” onto his back.

Jason wasn’t gay—no way! Being around jocks made him nervous, that was

all. Nothing more. And just because no jock made him more nervous than Blake
Huntington…that didn’t mean anything either. Right?

“What’s wrong?” Blake’s gorgeous eyes narrowed. His olive-colored jersey

made them appear bright green today, but they were actually hazel, changing
shades depending on what he wore.

He forced a smile, irritated at the older boy’s astuteness and at himself for

noticing another guy’s eye color. “Nothing. You ready for fractions?”

Taking two steps closer, Blake studied his face, unsettling him somewhat.

Then he crossed his long, muscular arms over his chest and announced, “You’ve
been crying.”

“No, I haven’t.”
“Did someone beat you up again?”
Jason’s eyes burned at the harsh way he said “again.” Retrieving his laptop for

their tutoring session, he pushed his glasses up his nose. “No, just my allergies
acting up.”

“Did allergies dump ice cream all over your backpack, too?” His voice oozed

sarcasm like the sticky milkshake dripping from the ruined bag he held up in
accusation.

Before Jason could stop it, his lower lip trembled. He turned away. “I had an

accident.”

“It was David Kilburn, wasn’t it?”
Hands shaking, he set out the study books. He couldn’t see very well with the

tears clouding his vision and fogging up his glasses. Feeling like the biggest loser
in the world, he whirled on Blake, temper spiking. “No! Forget it, o-kay?”

He wanted to punch something when his pubescent voice cracked. Of course, it

would do that in front of the eighteen-year old jock. No wonder everyone picked

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on him.

Blake cursed. “I’m gonna kick his ass.”
“Thanks,” he began after a shaky breath. “But when you graduate, he’ll just be

worse. I’m fine.”

He looked dumbstruck. “Your bag is covered in milkshake. You were crying.

That’s not fine, Jay. You should take karate. That’s what you should do. Learn to
defend yourself. And I should teach David to pick on someone his own size.” He
pounded a fist into his hand.

This righteous indignation was not a side of Blake he’d ever seen before. No

one but Abby defended him. But if Blake got involved, Jason would learn the real
meaning of hell next year. “Just forget it, okay?”

“No. You’re my friend. If he’s bullying you, you need to tell me, and I’ll stop

him.”

Friend.
Their tutoring sessions had been going on for a couple of months, and they got

along fine. Blake even said hello in the hallway every day before Spanish class.
Though that was just the kinda guy Blake was, nice to everyone and enemy to
none. Did he actually think they were friends? Were they?

Though he spent more time with Blake than anyone else in school, it was for

studying and that didn’t make them friends—Jason didn’t really have any of
those. Sure, there were some fellow nerds he sat with at lunch, but they never
hung out after school. He wanted to, but living the first ten years of his life as a
sheltered home-schooler, he was too shy and awkward in social situations to
initiate anything. Even after five years of normal school, he still didn’t know
where to begin. Any friends he had, it seemed, lived in books and video games.
That horrible realization on the heels of the afternoon forced the tears to spill
free.

“Don’t cry, Jay,” Blake pleaded, sounding helpless.
Mortified, he made a beeline to the bathroom.
Blake stepped in front of him, his six-foot-two athlete’s physique an

immovable mountain barring Jason from asylum. He drew up short, but before
he could tell the dumb jock to get out of the way, Blake hugged him.

The Best Ever

Stunned as those long arms wrapped around him, Jason froze.
“I’m gonna make them stop, okay?” he whispered, tightening his hold. “I

promise.”

A spicy, masculine scent filled his senses. Warm, solid muscles surrounded his

small body. Jason didn’t know what to do, what to think. This was not like any
embrace he’d experienced before. The only people who hugged him with more
than a quick pat were his sister and smelly old Aunt Betty. He’d never had a
friend hold him like this.

Never a man.
Heat spread down his back, and he couldn’t ignore the comfort of Blake’s

touch. He struggled with embarrassment and shame for enjoying the feel of
another guy hugging him, but the pain and hurt of being bullied won out. He
choked on a sob, and Blake pulled him closer, his body strong and hard
everywhere. Jason melted into that comfort, wrapping his arms around that
narrow waist and letting the tears flow.

Why did everyone pick on him? Because he was small, smart? Had red hair?

Glasses? He was a good person, just trying to get by like any other kid his age. He
wanted to be normal, to have friends, a girlfriend. Maybe get invited to a party
once in a while. But everyone seemed to hate him.

“It’ll get better,” Blake whispered, rocking him a little bit. “You can’t let those

jerks win. You’re a cool dude, and they’re a bunch of losers.”

No, not everyone hated him.
Realizing how much the older boy’s support meant, Jason clung to him until

the tears subsided into quiet sniffles.

Blake drew back. “All better?”
He stared up at the handsome face smiling down at him, so full of kindness

and sympathy. An odd shiver worked through his middle. Flushed from crying,
he began to sweat a little. Blake’s nearness overheated him, making it worse. Or
better, he couldn’t be sure. But he liked Blake holding him.

He liked it a lot.
Neither of them made a move to end the embrace. They just stood in the center

of his room, looking at each other, arms still holding on. When Blake’s hands

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stroked his back, Jason trembled. Then he became overly aware of the way their
bodies were pressed together. The solidness of Blake’s athletic frame, the warmth
of his skin, the bigness of his arms, and the bulge of his ….

Shit!
“Yeah, uh, I’m fine.” Hastily, Jason stepped back, adjusting his glasses.
But Blake didn’t let him get too far away. He kept an arm around his puny

shoulders and led them to the edge of the bed. “C’mon, let’s sit down.”

When they sat, their thighs touched. Unable to stop another shiver, Jason felt

stupid all of a sudden. Not only had he been blubbering like a girl, but Blake
touching him had given him an erection.

What the hell’s the matter with me?
Frustrated, he wiped his face with the front of his shirt. “I’m sorry to be a

crybaby, but—”

Blake pinched Jason’s lips together with his thumb and forefinger.
He flinched and stared at him, wide-eyed. Blake offered him a smile—one a

parent gives to a kid with a skinned knee before promising ice cream to make it
better. Well, at least Jason imagined parents did that. His father had died before
he could remember him, and cancer had taken Mom when he was ten. Abby
raised him after that, and she often looked at him like a helpless little baby she
needed to rescue.

God, he must think I’m pathetic.
Still holding his lips closed, Blake said, “Don’t apologize. It sucks getting

picked on, believe me, I know. I have four older brothers.”

Then he dropped his hand, placing it on Jason’s thigh.
Stunned, he didn’t move. His heart raced. He should jump up from the bed

and tell Blake to leave, but that big arm around his shoulder felt so good. And it
felt even better to have someone treating him nice for a change.

But if he’s just being nice, why is his hand on my thigh?
Jason swallowed the grapefruit-sized lump in his throat. Blake’s palm felt

really, really warm on his leg. The heat of his larger body surrounded him, and it
seemed he had gotten even closer than he had been a moment ago. His mouth
was maybe seven and a half, eight inches away now, if Jason had to guess. So

The Best Ever

close he could smell the Doritos on his breath.

Why was he taking measurements in his head? Better yet, why had he fixated

on Blake’s mouth?

Probably because the older boy had just licked his full lips, staring at him with

a weird expression. At least it seemed weird because he’d stopped smiling.

Suddenly, he had a terrible notion Blake was going to kiss him.
Two seconds before Jason broke free and crab-crawled to the far corner of his

bed, Blake stood up fast. “Let’s forget math today.”

He found his voice, but it cracked like Peter Brady again. “O-kay.”
Blake clapped his hands together. “Let’s go see the new Lord of the Rings

movie.”

Though he had already seen it twice, Jason smiled. He’d never gone to a movie

with anyone but Abby before. Heck, he’d never gone anywhere with someone
popular before. Though he still felt weird about what might or might not have
almost happened, he didn’t want to leave Blake’s side yet. “Yeah, okay.”

“Good. That’ll make you feel better.” He nodded once more then rolled onto

the balls of his feet, smiling. “Great. You look up show times. I gotta drain the
snake.”

The jock disappeared into the bathroom, and Jason shook his head in

disbelief. This was by far the strangest afternoon he’d ever had. But he couldn’t
deny everything was so much better with Blake there. He glanced at his ruined
backpack, but the urge to cry didn’t hit him.

Blake Huntington wanted to go to the movies with him. He considered them

friends.

This was turning out to be the best day ever.

Deanna Wadsworth

Chapter One

Seven years later
“Do you know how old it gets having sex over Skype?”
Jason shook his head at his neighbor, Bryn Wallace. “Uh, no but I can

imagine. Though, I don’t want to.”

Chuckling, she tossed her chocolate-colored curls out of her eyes and looked

in the mirror for the hundredth time. “I can’t wait for Ian to get here.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind watching Maggie, since Abby’s on call this

weekend? I know you’ve been looking forward to Ian’s visit.” Jason hated the idea
of his dog being a cock block.

Bryn smiled at the white-and-blond cocker spaniel. The pup’s tongue hung

out, and she’d already made herself at home on the couch beside a very round
tabby cat. “No, you know I love her, and so does Louie. Besides, as long as she
doesn’t mind all the noise in the bedroom, she won’t bother us.”

He plugged the dog’s long, curly ears. “Oh, jeez, you’re going to scar my baby

for life.”

She waved him off with a laugh.
Curling up next to his pooch, he scratched her belly when she rolled over.

“You gonna be a good girl for Bryn?” he asked the dog in high-pitched baby talk.
“We don’t wanna piss off the neighbors.”

“Like you ever could.”
He smiled at the pretty woman as she flitted about her condo, straightening

pillows and magazines that were already perfect. Bryn lived next door to Abby
and Jason in the Hidden Harbor Condominiums, though there were no harbors,
hidden or otherwise, in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

“How long will your Skype lover be staying?”
She beamed. “Three weeks.”
“Don’t go marrying him when he gets here,” he cautioned, reading her pie-

eyed expression. “At least not till I get back from Vegas.”

The Best Ever

An impish grin spread across her face, but she said nothing.
Anytime the subject of Ian came up, she got giddy—not her usual behavior.

Three quarters of the way through a bottle of limoncello, Bryn had once confided
to him that she and Ian had been married in another century and their souls had
been destined to meet again in this life. Jason had smiled and taken the bottle
away from her with an, “On that note, you’re cut off.”

Happy for her, he couldn’t deny his envy. He’d do anything to go on vacation

and fall madly in love with a big, strapping Scot in a kilt. Or an investment
banker, or a schoolteacher…uh, maybe any guy with a job and a dick at this point.

Jeez, you’re pathetic.
His phone buzzed. A text from Abby: downstairs #hurryup #airportparking.
He chuckled at her use of hashtags. He’d explained to her how they were used

on Twitter for trending topics, but she’d found the succinct way of paraphrasing
to her liking. Now she and Jason had entire conversations with their own made-
up hashtags. Totally dorky, but kinda their thing.

OMW #impatient #bossy
“Abby’s here.” He climbed off the sofa, kissed Bryn goodbye, and gave his

pooch one last pat before heading toward the door. “Thanks again for watching
Maggie. I hope you have fun.”

She gave him a mischievous wink. “Oh, I will.”
Outside, Abby waved hello from behind the wheel of her tan Jeep Cherokee.

Still wearing her white doctor’s coat, she’d rushed home from work to get him to
the airport on time for his flight. He wheeled his luggage to where she had
popped the tailgate. After stowing his carry-on, he piled into the passenger seat.

Greeting him with a smile, she said, “You got everything?”
“Yup.”
“Toothpaste? Toothbrush? Extra underwear? Socks? Your inhaler? Allergy

medication?”

“Yes, Abigail.” Like a gay man needed to be told to pack extra underwear.
#clueless
Ignoring the full name, she arched her brows. “Condoms?”
“Jeez, Abby, just drive.” He pointed irritably to the cul-de-sac exit.

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“Suit yourself. But I bet there’s some cute video game-playing guy waiting to

hook up with you in Vegas.”

He rolled his eyes, face heating up as if somehow she knew. “Whatever. I’m

going to Vegas to check out the new games and have some fun. Not hook up.”

“Having fun and hooking up are not necessarily two different things. All you

do is play online and go to karate. You could probably use a hook up.”

“Not discussing this,” he announced with a wave of his hand. “Hashtag: mind

your own business.”

He had planned this trip to the World Video Game Expo as a reward for

completing a grueling Masters of Accounting program in June. At the time he’d
booked the expo, he’d been in a paid internship with Solace Financial—where he
hoped to continue working after he sat for the CPA exam. With a decent job, not
only had Vegas been well within the budget, but he’d even entertained the idea of
getting his own place, though he’d miss seeing Abby every day. Too bad the
company’s CEO had been caught embezzling. Stocks dropped overnight, and
Jason’s position had been dispersed among existing employees.

#suckstobeme
So like all other grads hitting the marketplace, filled with professors’

delusions of high-paying jobs, Jason remained unemployed.

He probably should’ve canceled the trip, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

He’d always wanted to attend the fan-based videogame convention. Three days of
events showcasing all the latest in gaming technology, championship
tournaments, and a chance to get tips from top gamers and meet a few of his
online gaming buddies?

#guaranteedepic
Yet he could not shake the nervous feeling in his gut.
“Bryn’s excited about Ian’s visit,” he said, searching for a way to change the

subject and get his mind off the inevitable. “I had to peel her off the walls.”

“Yeah, we’re all going to Detroit this weekend. Ian wants to visit some friends

who run a sports bar.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m gonna miss that. Those are Ian’s friends, Martin and

Garret. They’re a couple.” He had heard every detail about Ian from Bryn. Some

The Best Ever

of which he didn’t need to hear, and Ian might be mortified Jason knew. He’d
been thrilled, however, to know Bryn’s new man wasn’t a homophobe. “It’s cool
that Ian has gay friends, don’t you think?”

Abby shrugged. “I guess if you think so, yeah, it’s cool.”
#lovemysister
Not a judgmental bone in her body, Abby saw no differences in people, gay or

straight, black or white. People were people. Work was work. Food fed the body.
She was by far the most logical person he’d ever met. Always a great source of
honest advice and the one person he could rely on no matter what, Abby was his
rock. When he’d told her he was gay, she’d asked, “Oh, how did you figure that
out?”

He had retorted in a sarcastic teenager way, “How’d you figure out you were

straight?”

She’d thought about it for a moment—filing it away like a research factoid for

later—then said, “Hmmm, good question.”

And that had been that.
He’d always sought her advice, and never did he need it as much as today.

But he had to be coy about it. He took a deep breath and asked the leading
question he’d prepared, “Do you know how they met?”

Abby screwed up her face in confusion. “Who? Bryn’s boyfriend and his

friends with the bar?”

#payattention
He tried not to get annoyed. “No. Bryn and Ian.”
Brows raised, she shook her head. “No idea.”
“Through a service called 1Night Stand. Bryn wanted some casual sex so she

booked an encounter—that’s what the place calls it—at a castle. Ian was her date.”

“I didn’t know that.”
“Kinda crazy, right? Like hiring a hooker,” he prompted.
She tipped her head to the side—her “Analyzing Look” Jason called it. “No,

it’s not like a hooker. Unless Ian is a male prostitute. He isn’t, is he?”

“Seriously?” he said. “Of course he’s not a prostitute.”
“Then it’s more like two consenting adults wanting to cut through all the

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bullshit and games. Sounds very efficient.”

He resisted an eye roll. Such an Abby answer. “You don’t think it’s crazy?”
“Not at all. Why? Do you?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Like you said, it’s just cutting out all the bullshit and

games.”

Games that didn’t involve a controller or hi-def graphics were not Jason’s

thing. Even Dating for Dummies had not helped his endeavors. So he’d brought
in the big guns. The professionals.

He slanted a glance at his older sister, keeping his voice level. “Would you

ever hire a service for sex?”

“Sure,” she mused. “Why not? Might be interesting.”
Her calm reply went through him like he’d taken a big puff on his inhaler.

The tension in his chest eased.

Abby glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. The “Mom Look” this time.

“Why are you asking?”

“Oh, no reason,” he answered a little too quickly. Other than I booked my

own encounter via Madame Eve and her 1Night Stand agency.

#OMGwhatwasithinking?

The Best Ever

Chapter Two

It was actually him.
Blake Huntington in the flesh.
Well, a fifteen-foot tall, cardboard cutout representation of the man in the

flesh, advertising World Series Strike Zone 7, the number one pitching game of
the year, starring the youngest Cy Young Award winner himself, Blake.

Jason had read online he would be in attendance at the Expo but hadn’t

expected to be so nervous about seeing him. The last time he’d laid eyes on Blake
had been from the stands, watching the jock pitch his final college game. With all
the hubbub about his unheard of draft straight to the major leagues, there’d been
no way Jason could’ve gotten close enough to say hello. Not that he’d been brave
enough to try. Though attending the same university for two years, Jason had
never tried to reconnect with him.

No star athlete would want to hang out with a geek.
The loud sounds of the Castillo Casino, the ping of slot machines, and

occasional explosion of a video game war from the conference rooms surrounded
him. But he only had eyes for the looming image of the man who’d given him his
first sexual experience.

Not that there had been any real experience, per se, other than in between the

hug and the movie, Jason had experienced his first real erection. Sure he’d gotten
hard a million times before, but never because of a man’s touch. The scenario had
fueled more than eighty percent of his confusing masturbation fantasies in high
school. Back then, he hadn’t known what the butterflies and giddy hero-worship
had meant. If he had to pinpoint the turning point in the acceptance of his
sexuality, that one defining moment would be it.

He stared at the cutout, slurping his Coke Icee. If possible, Blake looked even

better than he remembered. Thicker, more manly. In mid-pitch, Blake’s face
pursed with concentration, the Detroit Cougars logo bright on his cap. A power
pitcher, he’d set an all-time record of strikeouts per game, more than anyone in

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the league, leading his team to the World Series two years in a row.

“Hey, you goin’ in there?” Dean asked.
Mark frowned. “I thought you were kidding.”
Dean was a tall, pimply faced seventeen-year old Jason played World of

Warcraft with online. Single and forty, Mark didn’t need to be eating the
doughnut in his pudgy hands. Though they fought weekly battles and chatted
through Facebook, he met them both IRL for the first time that morning.

They eyed the jocks in the sporting room with dubious expressions. He

understood where his friends were coming from. Even in the world of video
games, there were the cool guys and the nerds.

He glanced from Dean’s “Frodo Lives” T-shirt and wrinkled khakis to the

powdered sugar sprinkled all over Mark’s Doctor Who sweatshirt with the words
“Time Lord” stamped on it. At least the Pac-man ghost on Jason’s crisp black T-
shirt matched the contrast stitching on the back pockets of his Diesel jeans.
Though his gay genes gave him superior fashion sense to his two straight friends,
there was no denying all three of them were definitely the nerds.

“I’m not going into jock-strap world. Not here,” Dean declared.
Jason looked back at the room. Blake Huntington was somewhere in there,

signing autographs. “I’m thinking about it. I am a Cougars fan, ya know?”

Mark eyed him funny. “Since when do gay men follow sports?”
He frowned.
#stereotyping
While he didn’t follow mainstream sports at all, he did follow Blake

Huntington. And since he was working on his brown belt and, frankly, all those
sweaty men were hot, Jason enjoyed Ultimate Fighting Championships, too.
Although saying any of that would validate Mark’s ignorance.

“Dude, you’re an idiot,” Dean told their fat friend. “Gay dudes like the same

stuff we do, just not the vagina.”

Jason’s cheeks flushed as a man walking by chuckled at them. No wonder

Dean got so many wedgies in school. He was a bigger dork than Jason had ever
been.

“Sorry, man,” Mark muttered, dusting sugar off on his jeans. “I was just

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sayin’.”

“It’s fine,” he assured him.
#shutupandeatyourdonut
“C’mon, let’s go check out the Nintendo seminar.” Dean gave him a wink. “Let

Jason go ogle the jocks. That’s the real reason he wants to go in there.”

“This from the guy drooling over Lara Croft impersonators,” he shot back with

a good-natured grin.

After his two friends left, he tossed his Icee in the trash and got in line.
Looking right through Jason as if he were invisible—per the usual of every

person on the planet—three high school-aged jocks cut in front of him.

“Uh, excuse me, no cutting.” At twenty-two, Jason might be an adult to them,

but his heart skipped when they drew up short and glared. It shouldn’t do that,
but no matter how much time passed or how skilled he became at martial arts, he
could not shake the impact of his past bullying.

“Sorry,” one said as they filed in behind him. “Didn’t see ya.”
#storyofmylife
As he waited, trying to ignore the fart noises and idiot antics of the boys, he

grew nervous. Maybe he should’ve gone with Dean and Mark.

Would his old friend even remember him? He’d tutored him for six months,

and they saw a movie once. For some reason, Blake had always waited after his
second hour math class until Jason arrived for Spanish to give him updates about
his progress or sometimes just to ruffle up his hair and say, “Hey, short-stack.”
He had been late to Spanish so many times, he got a few demerits, but seeing
Blake had been the highlight of his day. Overall the teasing had lessened that year
with the baseball star being nice to him. Too bad they hadn’t had the same lunch
hour. Blake even invited him to his graduation party, but Jason, still too shy, had
opted to just send a gift rather than attend.

#regrettedthatnow
Thankfully, Abby bought him contacts and a car junior year, and he signed up

to take some college courses via a postsecondary option program where he
earned high school and college credit for basic classes. By eating lunch in the
guidance counselor’s office, he’d managed to avoid the daily harassment, his

Deanna Wadsworth

swirly average being reduced to less than one a month. Though still living at
home, he flourished in the more academic setting of college. He even joined a
martial arts club, got in shape, and made some real friends.

Blake had a powerful effect on his life, but Jason was probably a footnote to

him. That nerdy, red-haired geek who helped him pass math. What was his name
again?

He should turn around and forget this whole idea. But all too soon, the man

directing the flow of traffic asked him which player he wanted to meet.

His throat went dry. “Blake Huntington.”
Anxiety filled him when he caught a glimpse of Blake. My God, the man was

sexier than the screensaver of him Jason had on his computer. He wore his
regulation Cougars uniform with his number seventeen. Jason smiled. He’d
always liked prime numbers. The scruff of facial hair on his jaw highlighted
Blake’s perfect bone structure. His wavy black hair—in need of a cut yet somehow
perfect—had lost none of its luster, and his eyes still danced when he smiled. He
sat between two other players featured in different games, chatting with fans and
autographing balls and baseball cards.

Suddenly, he realized he had nothing to have signed.
#idiot
Now what? Should he have him sign his arm? Heck, some girl let one of the

other players sign her ass, maybe he should do that. Yeah right. He fished in his
welcome bag, and found the conference brochure, opening it to the page
advertising Blake’s game.

Sure, that would work.
The line moved faster, funneling down. He clutched the brochure tight, trying

to remain calm. This entire weekend was about going after what he wanted,
grabbing the bull by the horns, so to speak. Though he feared Blake might not
recognize him, dammit, he wanted to say hello. If just to prove he wasn’t the
same four-eyed geek too terrified of rejection to even attend a simple graduation
party.

He was next. His heart pounded.
Then he stood in front of him.

The Best Ever

“How are you today?” Blake asked, his voice pleasant but flat, as if he’d been

speaking on autopilot all morning.

“Uh…good, thanks.”
Blake’s face crinkled. Then he dropped both hands flat on the table and let out

a loud bark of laughter. “Holy shit! Jay?”

Oh my God, he remembers me!
“Hi, Blake.”
Never one to do anything the easy way, Blake stood. He stepped up on the

chair then planted one large foot on the table. “I can’t believe it’s you!”

“Sir, you can’t!” a hotel worker cried.
But Blake had already climbed over the table and jumped to the ground, a

giant Peter Pan, flashing the boyish grin Jason had never forgotten. Before he
saw it coming, those huge arms wrapped him in a bear hug and lifted him off the
ground.

“Oomph!” He gasped for air under the bone-crushing embrace.
Oh, lord he smells better than I remember!
Then he was plunked on his feet and the hand which had rested on his thigh

just once slapped him on the back. “You got taller!”

He flushed. He’d grown to a respectable five-eight. Well, in shoes anyway.
Blake gripped his upper arm, squeezing his bicep. “And check out these guns!”
“Uh….”
“Hey, Kowalski,” he shouted, the big paw on the back of Jason’s neck

manhandling him in the straight, brotherly way of jocks. He tugged him forward,
and Jason camouflaged a wince. The man didn’t know his own strength. “You
know who this is?”

Another player glanced up from signing a kid’s baseball, giving him a sarcastic

grin. “No, Huntington, who is it?”

“This guy is the whole reason I’m here.”
Jason blustered. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Yeah, Jay, you are. If you hadn’t helped me graduate, I never would’ve made

it to the majors.”

“I think your playing got you there, not math.”

Deanna Wadsworth

Blake shook his head, his hand on Jason’s shoulder now. “Nope, remember the

thing you taught me about the baseball diamond? That if the distance between
the bases is ninety feet, then the distance from first to third is ninety times the
square root of two.”

He stared at the man in shock. “You remember that?”
“Heck, yeah. You prepared all kinds of sports analogies for me so I would

remember stuff. Like using my game stats to help me figure out statistics and
algebra. You were a great teacher. All that stuff helped me in college. I got a
degree in business.” He winked. “Even managed to scrape a C in math.”

“Really? That’s great,” he said, proud of the news.
Blake turned to the people watching them, the consummate TV personality

and media darling of the major league. A flash of light startled Jason, and he
flinched. People were taking pictures with their cell phones.

Jeez, he’d be on Youtube by lunchtime.
“See, kids,” Blake addressed the youths in line. “Sports are a lot of fun, but

brains are gonna get you where you need to go. I needed help with math because
all I thought about in school was baseball. I was failing and wasn’t gonna
graduate. Jay was an underclassman and a mathlete. We didn’t even know each
other, but he became my tutor and helped me graduate. You gotta study hard, but
if you need help, don’t be afraid to ask. You might even get a good friend out of
the deal, like I did.”

Not used to being the center of attention, sweat itched down Jason’s back with

every camera flash. “Don’t you think you’re laying it on a bit thick?” he said out of
the corner of his mouth.

Blake leaned in close, smiling for the fans and saying for only Jason to hear,

“Just smile and keep looking pretty for the cameras, Jay.”

Startled, his head jerked back. Pretty?
#whatthehell
“Huntington, over here,” a man called.
He turned them, and Jason recovered in time to pose for an event

photographer. The guy checked his digital display then gave a thumbs-up. “Front
cover, Huntington, front cover.”

The Best Ever

There were a few more pictures, someone asked Jason’s name, and one of the

game reps dumped eight sports games he would never play into his conference
bag. Well, maybe he could sell them on eBay.

Blake flipped a thumb behind him. “I gotta do this, but the team is hosting a

private party tonight at the casino’s sports bar, Sidelines. Open bar, appetizers,
the works. It’s at eight o’clock. Jody!” he called out to a woman in a headset. “Put
Jason Lewis on the list for tonight.” She nodded, and the big guy gave him
another squeeze on the shoulder and a pleading look. “Come hang out with me?”

“Uh…sure.”
Blake climbed back over the table, putting the hotel worker in a conniption as

the fans laughed and took more photos.

“We need you to sign this.” The woman in the headset thrust a clipboard under

Jason’s nose.

“What is it?”
“Consent to use your name and image in Blake Huntington, Inc. I handle his

PR. High school jock friends with a mathlete?” She let out a laugh. “You can’t buy
this sort of publicity. This’ll be a great follow up to his ‘It Gets Better’ video.”

Frowning at her take on the situation, he accepted the clipboard and a pen.

And how had he missed Blake’s “It Gets Better” video? He’d have to Google it
later. He signed the waiver, and she yanked it from his grasp, the pen streaking a
blue line across the page, his last name only half completed.

He gave one last backward glance at Blake, but he’d returned to signing, his

gorgeous face now bright with excitement as he chatted happily with a fan.
Though thrilled to no end Blake remembered him, he wondered if he should
attend the party at eight when his “encounter” had been scheduled for eleven.

Well, he was in Vegas, a city full of excitement and risks. And he didn’t want to

miss an opportunity to hang out with his former crush.

He sniffed a laugh. Never one to have an active social life—Vegas, video games,

running into Blake, a party, and a date?

#bestvacationever

Deanna Wadsworth

Chapter Three

Sweater or button-up n T-shirt?
What for? Abby texted back.
Remember Blake, Jason started to reply then quickly deleted it. No, Abby

would not remember some kid he tutored. Best to keep it simple. A party

What kinda party? #contexthelps
He rolled his eyes at her hashtag. In a sports bar
Button-up n T-shirt
That’s what I thought. Blue stripe or green plaid?
Jason had purchased five new outfits from Gap and Aéropostale for his 1Night

Stand date, and he currently had all of them staged across the hotel bed. He
certainly couldn’t wear the video game-themed stuff he’d packed for the con.
After being invited to Blake’s party, he was damn glad he had a selection.

Abby texted him back: Green #gayboys #worsethanwomen
He sent her the tongue-sticking-out emoticon then studied the two outfits

they’d narrowed it down to.

Well…he did have the new green underwear with the navy blue trim, which not

only matched the green shirt but really flattered his ass.

Yup, that decided it.
With a determined nod, he texted back: Green it is! Thx.
Ur welcome, have fun!
Once dressed, he decided Abby had made the right call. The color

complimented his complexion so it appeared less freckled. Even his hair didn’t
seem so orange. It could have been the pomade he’d used, but maybe it had
finally gotten darker. Or the lighting in his hotel room was just more flattering.
Whatever the cause, he thought he looked good. He wondered if Blake would
notice. He should feel bad thinking about one man when another had come to the
city to meet him, but excitement over spending time with Blake won out.

He arrived at Sidelines at a quarter after eight, not wanting to appear too

The Best Ever

eager. After giving his name to the security guard at the door, he feared it might
not be on the list. What if Blake had only said all that for the cameras?

With a nod and a welcome, however, the man gestured him inside.
He should’ve known Blake was being sincere.
The bar was loaded with eye candy—tall, muscular hunks everywhere. Dozens

of TVs broadcast various games, and neon and tin beer signs decorated the walls.
Scanning the crowd did not produce Blake, but the sound of his resonant laughter
caught Jason’s ear. He spied the man at the far end of the room with an old dude
he recognized as an NBC reporter, but he didn’t remember his name. Two
attractive women flanked Blake’s sides, hanging on his every word.

Far too socially awkward to join them, he accepted a glass of red wine from

one of the servers walking around with trays of beer and wine then headed
toward the bar in the corner. Maybe a little liquid courage would help.

He took a long swallow and practically choked.
#nasty
Who knew red wine would be so sour and disgusting? Abby and Bryn always

bought white, and there was apparently a big difference.

He found an unoccupied barstool, set the glass down, and ordered a rum and

Diet Coke. He’d done enough alcohol experimenting to know he preferred sweet
drinks.

From his vantage point, he could watch Blake in the mirror above all the liquor

bottles. That wasn’t stalkerish, was it?

Blake appeared to be the most popular person there, just like in high school.

He laughed and talked, those hazel eyes sparkling all the while. His ass-hugging
jeans and maize-and-blue T-shirt from their alma mater clung to a body
perfected by sports.

Damn, the man was captivating.
When twenty minutes passed and no one besides the bartender talked to him,

he let out a sigh. Time to go. He needed to get ready for his encounter—jeez, that
sounds impersonal.

Disappointment filled him. He’d allowed himself to get too excited about

spending time with Blake. Social situations had never been his forte, and now his

Deanna Wadsworth

mood had soured. It shouldn’t have. Blake didn’t owe him anything.

Leaving the bartender a tip, he made his way to the exit.
A familiar voice halted him.
“Jay! When did you get here?”
His face warmed with a heaping layer of embarrassment and pleasure. “Hi,

Blake.”

Brows wrinkling in accusation, the other man asked, “Were you gonna leave

without talking to me?”

“You were busy.” He stuffed his fists in his pockets.
“I’m never too busy for you, short-stack.” Blake threw a brotherly arm around

his shoulders, yanking him against his side, his huge grin aided by the beer in his
hand, no doubt. “Though you aren’t so short anymore, are you?”

Tucked under his arm, he smiled awkwardly at the long, sweeping look Blake

gave him. Heat bloomed in his cheeks.

Blake leaned in, the hot breath against his ear making Jason shiver. “I’m glad

you came. I need someone to rescue me from all these silicone-enhanced cougars
after my money.”

He chuckled, unnerved by the overwhelming nearness of Blake’s body and the

spicy scent of his skin.

“You still live in Michigan, Jay?”
Clearing his throat, he nodded. “Yeah, in Ann Arbor, with my sister.”
Idiot! Why did you add that?
#loserville
Blake gave him another squeeze. “C’mere, I got some people I want you to

meet.”

He led Jason over to where three tall jocks and two attractive blonde women

chatted with the lady who had him sign the waver. “Hey, guys, this is Jason
Lewis. My old friend from high school.”

They offered companionable smiles while Blake rattled off introductions.

However, with that large, muscular arm draped lazily across his shoulders in a
way-too-casual fashion, it was impossible for Jason to remember something as
trivial as names.

The Best Ever

“Jody, you know that idea I had for the Scholastic Group?” Blake said to the

clipboard woman.

“The sports-themed math book?”
“Yes,” he said, blessedly removing his arm, leaving Jason both relieved and

flustered. “Well, this guy is where I got the idea from. Running into him this
morning had to be fate because I was thinking we need a wiz like Jay on our
team. He’s a math teacher.”

“No, I’m not,” he said, startled.
“You’re not? But you were so good at it.”
“No, the last thing I wanted to do as an adult was go back to school. Right?” He

let out a laugh, expecting the rest of the group to commiserate.

The three jocks and the pretty women stared at him in confusion.
#thepopularkids
Their heyday probably was high school. Why that sorta thing still bothered

Jason, he didn’t know. Like a piece of toilet paper stuck on his shoe, he couldn’t
shake it. At twenty-two, why couldn’t he just forget all the social stigmata of high
school? He was a grown man, for chrissake!

“Wine, Jay?” Blake offered, snagging a glass from a passing server.
He scrunched his face up. “No, thank you. I don’t like red wine.”
“I do,” one of the blondes piped up.
“Lucky for you I have some then.” He extended the glass with a mock bow. He

turned away from her and touched Jason on the arm. “What do you want to
drink?”

Embarrassed at such overt hospitality, he said, “Rum and Diet Coke, I guess?”
“What kinda rum?” he asked, his hand still on Jason’s arm.
“I-I don’t know. Whatever you suggest.”
“Hey, Tony,” he called to the bartender.
Of course he knew the guy’s name. Blake knew everyone.
“Bring my buddy here a Sailor and Diet.” He gave Jason a pat on the back, his

big paw lingering and sliding down his spine then halfway back up again, sending
a shiver through Jason. “Sailor Jerry’s is my favorite rum. Trust me, you’ll love
it.”

Deanna Wadsworth

They did not stay in that particular group long. As soon as Tony brought the

drink, Blake led him to a different set of people, introducing him and leaving the
impression Jason must have been his BFF in high school. Awkward and trying
desperately to match his enthusiasm and keep track of all the faces, Jason felt a
little bit sweaty.

Or was that just because Blake kept putting his hand on his back and shoulder,

or playfully squeezing his neck? Though obviously jovial with drink, he didn’t do
that to anyone else. Women surrounded him yet he did not favor one in
particular. He chatted with them, listening when they spoke, but never being
touchy-feely. Not like with Jason. Was he flirting?

#inyourdreams
Probably some sort of ass-slapping comrade thing jocks did that Jason didn’t

understand. Guys in karate didn’t do that. But just because he enjoyed it, didn’t
mean Blake thought any more of it than giving a buddy a pat.

“Oh, damn,” Blake announced, looking at the expensive watch on his arm. “It’s

almost eleven o’clock.”

Stunned, Jason withdrew his phone to discover they had been hanging out for

over two hours. He remembered seeing a sign once which said: “Time flies when
you’re having rum” and almost made the same joke, but Blake put a hand on his
shoulder again, making it difficult to speak, let alone be clever.

“I have to go, Jay. But it was great seeing you.”
With only twenty minutes before his encounter, he needed to leave, too. But he

didn’t want to. “Yeah, it was. Thanks for inviting me.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Thank you.”
He cheeks heated further. Thanks for what?
“Here, lemme give you my number.” He held out his hand for Jason’s phone.
He opened his contacts, and passed it over.
“This is my personal number,” Blake said as he entered his info. “I’m texting

myself so I’ll have your number, too.”

Jason nodded when he gave the phone back, throat too tight to speak. Why

had he made a point to tell him it was his personal number? Glancing at the SMS
screen, he read what Blake texted himself: Call me soon ;-)

The Best Ever

What the heck did he type a winky face for?
“Maybe we can have lunch or something tomorrow,” Blake said. “Talk further

about this project?”

“Oh, uh sure.” He stopped in time from saying he planned to attend a

character panel for the new X-men game over lunch.

God, Blake would’ve thought I was such a geek!
“We need to hang out when we get home,” Blake went on, his gaze still locked

on Jason’s face. “We should’ve stayed in touch, ya know? I miss you.”

He swallowed hard. “You do?”
With a chuckle, he flashed a devilish smile. “Duh, Jay.” He tousled his hair, the

way he’d done when they were younger.

Ordinarily, Jason would’ve shied away—you never touched a gay man’s hair—

but he reveled in the caress.

“Well, I gotta fly,” Blake said. “I’ll see you later.”
Had that been reluctance in his tone?
Once Blake left, he felt awkward standing with the man’s friends and excused

himself. He returned to his room to retrieve the large gray envelope the casino
owner, Jackson Castillo, had given him earlier that afternoon. “Courtesy of
Madame Eve,” he’d said with a wink.

While he’d been excited about his rendezvous, after being with Blake, the

prospect of sex with a stranger had lost its appeal. The only thing Jason knew
about his date was his name, John Smith. Though now that he thought about it,
that was probably an alias. It should’ve concerned him, but all his thoughts were
centered on his old high school crush—the way he had looked, the sound of his
laughter, and the feel of his hands on Jason’s body. He almost called Jackson to
cancel, but doing something so mean to another person would be unthinkable.

“Idiot,” he said aloud. “Blake is not gay. You’re just reading into everything.”
While the Scholastic project intrigued him, he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

A job not in his skill set and way too good to be true, and “hanging out” with
Blake back in Michigan?

#yeahright
That had doubtless been the alcohol talking.

Deanna Wadsworth

None of it mattered. Jason needed to concentrate on his date. He hadn’t come

all the way to Vegas to chicken out. And to tell the truth, all Blake’s touching had
made him horny. Worst-case scenario, if his 1Night Stand hook-up was a
disappointment, fantasies of Blake would allow him to go through with it.

The elevator ride seemed to take forever, and his heart raced. He clutched the

conspicuous envelope to his chest, wishing he’d left it in the room. What if
someone saw it and figured out where he was headed and why?

Before he knew it, he stood outside Suite 53. A prime number. Those were

always good luck for him. Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

After a moment of eternity, a woman answered. Young, blonde, and pretty, she

smiled at him. “Are you Jason?”

Oh God, they sent me a woman!
He cleared his throat, wanting to run away. “Uh…I think there must be a

mistake.”

“No, I’m Mr. Smith’s assistant. You’re in the right place.”
Relieved, he followed her into the penthouse suite. She knocked on the

bathroom door twice. “Your appointment is here.”

Appointment? Not very romantic.
What did he expect from a service? Lost souls reuniting on the moors of

Scotland?

When the woman left the room, he took in his opulent surroundings, the plush

white carpet, the huge TV, and the expensive artwork. Looked like Mr. Smith was
a high roller. The familiar skyline of Vegas sparkled, exciting and colorful, behind
a wall of windows. A room service cart sat in the center of the room beside a small
table with place settings for two. He examined its contents.

Cheese. #lactoseintolerant
Caviar. #gross
Shellfish. #allergic
Raw oysters. #nowayinhell
Wine. #yuck
Chocolate covered strawberries. “Well, those look good.”
From the corner of his eye, he noted the sheets on the king-sized bed had been

The Best Ever

turned down and a strip of condoms lay on the nightstand next to a bottle of lube.

Suddenly, the illicit nature of the whole evening hit him. Sweat broke out on

his skin. Shit, why had he bothered to shower? He took a quick whiff of his pits.
Thank God, his deodorant was still on the job.

Where was this guy? What if he turned out to be old? Who hired this kinda

service anyway? And who used an alias as lame as John Smith?

Suck it up! You can do this. He may have been a gangly nerd in high school but

he’d taken up karate, per Blake’s suggestion—dammit! Stop thinking about
professional baseball players you’ll never stand a chance with. This is about
going after what you want!

The bathroom door opened, and he smoothed his shirtfront, trying to be

presentable.

A man walked out, towel-drying his hair.
Jason sucked in a sharp breath, and his dick stood up and took notice of the

big, athletic body, fresh from the shower. Tanned and muscular. Water streaked
furrows into his perfect layer of chest hair. A skimpy towel hung from narrow
hips, a solid thigh peeking out from the side, but his face remained hidden.

#holycrap #hotness
“Sorry, I kept you waiting,” the man said, slow and seductive. “I figured, why

waste time getting dressed.”

Then he dropped both towels in a practiced maneuver, standing there in all his

naked glory. Jason’s gaze traveled from his feet, up those long legs, past a thick
cock and over a perfectly chiseled abdomen.

When their eyes met, the man’s sly grin faded in an instant. He gasped, hazel

eyes wide.

Jason let out a gasp of his own. “Blake!”

Deanna Wadsworth

Chapter Four

“Jason!”
Oh fuck, oh fuck!
Blake scrambled for the towels. “I’m sorry! I thought you were someone else.”

He spoke fast, frantically covering up his junk. His gaze darted to the door. “They
were supposed to be here at eleven. I didn’t know Marcy let you in.”

Omigod! He’d just flashed a guy from high school!
Forcing some poise, Blake offered him a smile. But one glimpse of the adorable

man and all confidence faltered.

God, Jason was as cute as he’d been all those years ago. Though still lean, he’d

matured, become more muscular. His gorgeous auburn hair had been trimmed
neat and close, a little spiky on top. And those big, brown puppy-dog eyes? Oh
Lord…no wonder Blake had flirted shamelessly with him all evening! But those
lips, so full and kissable it wasn’t fair, were gaping in shock.

Of course he’s shocked. You have a towel over your man goodies.
Gripping the towel tight, he cleared his throat. “What can I do for you?”
“Uh…I was supposed to meet someone here at eleven.”
That gave him pause. “You were?”
Jason fidgeted with an envelope that looked suspiciously like the one Blake

had been given by the hotel owner.

“I’m not sure.” His gaze dropped. “This is Suite 53, right?”
Blake licked his lips, a smile creeping across his face. Oh, it couldn’t be…. “Yes,

it is.”

Eyes wide, Jason looked up fast. “You hired 1Night Stand?”
“Yes, but I wasn’t expecting you.”
“The envelopes must’ve gotten mixed up,” he blurted, rushing to the door, his

cheeks as red as his hair. “I’ll go speak with Jackson. I’m sure the woman…er,
your date will be here soon.”

He scurried to the door, but Blake stepped in front of him, halting his retreat.

The Best Ever

“I didn’t ask for a woman.”

The smaller man froze. “You didn’t?”
“No.” Chuckling, Blake headed to the mini bar. He could use another drink if it

was “coming-out” time. On the way, he grabbed a pair of jeans and slid them on.
Catching the hungry way Jason stared at his butt, he suppressed giddy laughter.
He’d almost canceled this encounter but was extremely happy he hadn’t. He
couldn’t believe the “Jason” from 1Night Stand was his Jay.

This was about to be the best night ever.
“I guess we can cut through the games, eh?” Blake reached for a Scotch then

changed his mind, remembering Jason preferred sweeter drinks. He poured two
glasses of the Asti he’d sent for and handed one over.

Taking a sip, Jason nodded in approval.
He flipped damp hair out of his eyes. “So, we’re both gay. Guess we can get

that out of the way.”

“Yeah, I suppose. I never heard,” he chewed his lower lip, “that rumor about

you.”

“Cuz I keep it on the very down low. My family and PR agent know, and one or

two friends. And now you.”

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear!”
“Thanks, but I wasn’t worried about you outing me.” He completely trusted

Jason with his secret. “But I have to be discreet, so I hire services.”

His face fell. “You’ve hired Madame Eve before?”
Puzzled by the disappointed slump of Jason’s shoulders, he said, “No, never.”
Being gay in the majors came with a whole heap of potential complications. He

refused to have relationships with women to appease the nosey media but neither
could he live a life of celibacy. He’d always figured he’d come out after a wrecked
shoulder or elbow forced him into retirement, or if he found a boyfriend worth
taking the risk for. But the latter seemed unlikely since he didn’t have the luxury
of going to gay bars or meeting gay friends. He had to rely on pure luck and
timing.

But he was damn tired of sitting around waiting for fate to find him a man.
That’s why he’d hired Madame Eve. She didn’t send “employees” but real

Deanna Wadsworth

people. Men wanting a discreet but meaningful experience. Doing it this way felt
less tawdry and artificial, more like a real date. Hell, perhaps he’d even make a
connection with the guy. Watching Jason, so small and vulnerable, taking a seat
on the edge of the king-sized bed, he wondered….

No, forget it.
All his flirting with Jason tonight, hoping when they were back in Michigan

they might hang out, didn’t matter. The guy had hired 1Night Stand—and his
reason was more than likely in the company’s name.

Blake was the only pathetic sod after more.
Jason downed his beverage then fiddled with the empty glass. “I can’t believe

this.”

“Crazy, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“So what do you want to do now?” Only years of hiding enabled him to

disguise the desperation that Jason would not run away from him this time.
Though it had taken a service to finally get them here, Blake held his breath,
waiting for his answer.

He shrugged, staring at his lap.
“Are you disappointed?” Blake prompted.
Blushing, he hid a shy smile. “No.”
“Me neither. Sooo,” he dragged out the word. “You still wanna go through with

this, right?”

Ever so slowly, face crimson, Jason nodded.
“Cool. Me, too.” His voice felt thick, hungry, as blood worked its way south.

God, he’d been hoping he would say that. Whether or not Jason merely wanted
an illicit tryst, Blake would give anything to be able to spend the night wrapped
up in him.

Blake raised the bottle in offer. “Another?”
“No, I’ve had enough.”
Taking their glasses, he set the stemware down, noting the closer he got to

Jason the more pronounced the tremble in the guy’s body became. He was a ball
of nerves. “Don’t be so nervous. We already know each other. That should make

The Best Ever

this easier.”

Jason gave an awkward chuckle. “Uh, not really.”
“We’ve been hanging out all night already, so this is sort of like picking up

where we left off a half hour ago,” Blake sat down on the bed beside him. He’d
been trying unsuccessfully to keep his hands to himself at the bar, and it amazed
him he did so now. It was damn hard. “Okay, then how about some awkward
small talk?”

A cute, boyish smile complemented the blush staining Jason’s cheeks. “Sure.”
“Ask me a question, anything at all. Go on, ask.”
“I don’t know.”
“How about I start? Where do you work?”
“No job, just graduated.”
“Since you’re not a math teacher like I thought, what is your degree?”
“Accounting. I’m going to be a CPA.”
“That’s cool.”
“Uh, not really.” His gaze skated over Blake’s chest then darted away.
His awkward body language reminded Blake of another time, when the two of

them had sat on the edge of a different bed under very different circumstances.
Just like back then, however, he wanted to put Jason at ease. “Well, in case you
didn’t know, I’m a professional baseball player.”

He sniffed with amusement. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, it keeps me busy,” he went on, with an elaborate sigh. “You know, with

training and games. I’m a pitcher.” Playfully, he elbowed Jason’s arm and added,
“But that’s not the only position I play.”

Choking on a laugh, Jason covered his mouth.
Blake grinned, loving the way the man’s cheeks flamed. He would lay money

down that an adorable guy like Jason had no problem getting boyfriends, so he
asked, “Why did you hire Madame Eve?”

“What’s better than two consenting adults wanting to cut through all the

bullshit and games?” he replied. “I thought it sounded very efficient.”

Blake frowned, thinking the answer sounded rehearsed. Sitting so close to him,

however, he didn’t care. When he placed a hand on Jason’s thigh, the smaller

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man flinched but didn’t move away.

Thus encouraged, Blake asked for the one thing he’d been dying to do all night.

“Can I kiss you, Jay?”

Those beautiful brown eyes met his, full of wanting, and he nodded.
Slowly, Blake caressed his face. His soon to be lover sucked in a gasp. Jason’s

skin, soft like he’d imagined, had a light scratch of stubble along the jaw, and he
stroked it with a thumb. When Blake leaned in to kiss him, Jason’s eyelids
drooped, and his lips parted.

Though the kiss started tentative and gentle, fire and lightening exploded

within Blake the moment they connected. Need surging, he prodded those lush
lips open with a moan. He slid his tongue inside, relishing the wonderful, sweet
taste of the red-headed boy who’d teased his fantasies for years. Only so he didn’t
grab the guy and ravish the hell out of him, he withdrew, soaking in Jason’s
wanton expression.

“Oh,” Jason murmured, eyes closed. “That was nice.”
Blake kissed him again, slow and savoring. Blood pounded in his veins,

making his skin throb everywhere. While their tongues played, he stroked Jason’s
face and throat, needing to feel more of him. Small, shy hands explored his bare
chest, toying with his nipples and driving him wild.

He could hardly believe this. Aside from a few guys in college, the majority of

his sex life had consisted of secretive meetings with “professionals.” Sure, they’d
possessed mad skills in the sack, but they were being paid to be with him. It had
been so long since he’d made love to a man who just wanted to be with him.

Urgency consumed him, and he deepened the kiss, pressing Jason back.

Beneath him, Jason squirmed to kick his shoes off. Pliable as dough now, his
lover went when he guided him to the center of the mattress. Eager to know if he
had red hair all over, he groped for his belt.

Tensing up, Jason stopped him. “Wait.”
“Something wrong?”
“I-I—”
“Have you changed your mind?”
“No.”

The Best Ever

He touched his thumb to Jason’s chin until he looked at him. “What is it

then?”

“I-I,” he stammered, turning his gaze away. Those fair cheeks, still tender, as if

he had not aged, turned bright red again. “Just go slow, ’kay?”

Nodding, Blake kissed him softly. He would do whatever this man asked.
Despite his obvious nerves, Jason coiled his fingers into Blake’s damp hair and

returned the kiss with passion, his silky tongue coiling around Blake’s and
flaming his lust. Lips never leaving his, Blake stroked his chest, arms, abs,
working lower to his groin. He caressed the warm bulge in his jeans. Jason
twitched and moaned, but intending to heed the plea to go slow, Blake did not
linger. He unbuttoned his green shirt, then slithered his hand up his T-shirt,
savoring the heat and hardness of the man’s stomach. Catching the hem with his
thumb, a shimmer of happiness washed over Blake when he saw the tempting
line of auburn hair starting at his belly button and disappearing below his jeans.

He grinned at the discovery. God, he’d dreamed about this so many times,

touching Jason, feeling him. Kissing him.

He’d always had a thing for the guy. Shy, sexy and smart as hell, Jason was his

ideal. And that red hair…good Lord!

Now he had him in his arms.
From the moment they reunited this morning, Blake had been unable to think

about anything besides seeing him again. As if he’d wound back the clock and
been given a chance to do what he’d been too young and inexperienced to dare
attempt in the past.

“Can I take off your shirt?” he asked, leaving their next play up to Jason.
He nodded and sat up. Blake helped him shed the garments, smiling at his

lightly sculpted torso. He ran his hands over the contour of muscles, his erection
hardening with every inch of pale skin he traversed. Needing Jason’s warm flesh
against his own, he lowered him onto the mattress, covering the smaller body
with his. They fit together so perfectly, so easily. Arching his pelvis, he pressed his
erection into Jason’s thigh, inhaling the scent from his neck.

Blake had hoped for something meaningful from this encounter, but never in

his wildest dreams had he expected Jason to be his date. The whole evening, he’d

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been trying to figure out how to ask him out without exposing himself
unnecessarily or offending him if his gaydar had been off. But Madame Eve had
taken care of everything.

Realizing how lost he’d become after just a few kisses should’ve scared him. He

wasn’t out, wasn’t ready for a relationship. And this was Jason. He’d been waiting
for him a long, long time. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t afraid, why this felt so
right. He knew then, without a shadow of doubt, he wanted so much more than
sex from Jason.

He wanted a chance to see if they could become more.
Lost to a sudden, blinding need, a need for someone to call his own, a partner

to love him and support him, he gave in to his desires. He humped Jason in a
firm, urgent rhythm, kissing him hard. A low, guttural sound escaped Jason when
their erections lined up. Grinding their cocks together, Blake panted, hungry for
the real thing, desperate to be inside him and never let him go.

Suddenly, fingers dug into his arms, and the body beneath him seized.
His head jerked back in time to watch Jason’s mouth gape in a frozen cry. He

convulsed once, gasping out. A jolt of desire shot through him when Jason let out
a tremulous breath, hips still thrusting.

Blake laughed, unable to believe what he’d just seen. “Did you come in your

pants?”

Horror filled eyes met his, and Jason frantically shoved him away. “Lemme

up!”

“Jay, what—?”
He scrambled off the bed, his socked feet slipping on the floor as he raced to

the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

The Best Ever

Chapter Five

What the hell was the matter with him?
And in front of Blake Huntington!
What had felt like a dream now had become a living nightmare.
How had things gotten so heated so fast? One second they were talking then

Jason was Premature Peter.

#pathetic
He took his jeans off. His sexy green underwear were now a soaked, sticky

mess. He thought about throwing them away, but he couldn’t leave them in
Blake’s hotel room, and they’d cost thirty bucks. Yet if he wore them, people
might see the wet spot.

“Calm down, think.” Standing there in just socks, he fought angry tears.
Now he had to walk past the hottest man on the planet—correct that, the

hottest gay man on the planet with overpriced, cum-covered underwear in his
pocket.

And he had laughed at him.
He wished there were a teleporter in the room to beam him somewhere he

could forget all about Vegas and Blake. Like to his bedroom at home. Or maybe to
a rock, so he could crawl under it and die.

A knock on the door made him jump. “Jay? You alright?”
“I’m fine!” He yanked his pants back on, stuffing the underwear into his

pocket. He hadn’t even washed off his dick. Scrubbing dried cum off later would
hurt.

#fuckmylife
Glancing at his reflection, the flushed cheeks and messed hair, he looked like a

hot mess. Why was he always such a loser in front of Blake? Couldn’t he be the
successful, intelligent man with a master’s degree? A man who spoke four
languages, the winner of several local karate tournaments? No! He had to be a
pathetic dork, embarrassing himself at every chance.

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The doorknob turned. “Can I come in?”
A hysterical laugh bubbled out of him. “Why the hell not!”
The big jock slipped inside, his steps tentative and light. “Why did you leave?”
“Seriously? You laughed at me.”
“I’m sorry. It surprised me, that’s all. Don’t sweat it, lots of guys come easy.”

He gave Jason a playful wink. “It was actually really hot.”

“What?”
A confused smile cut through his face. “Duh. Don’t you like making guys

come?”

He stared at him, feeling hopeless and all kinds of stupid. Might as well come

clean. Like a Band-Aid, just pull it off.

“Blake, I’m a virgin.”
His brows shot up. “Oh.”
With a sigh, he rested his hands on the counter, dropping his chin to his chest

so he didn’t have to see the other man in the mirror. “I hired 1Night Stand
because I’ve never been able to seal the deal on my own. I’m sick of waiting. I
wanted to get it over with.”

“Your first time shouldn’t be something you get over with.”
Jason tossed out a throwaway gesture. “So says Mr. Perfect!”
“Hey, now.”
“I’ll leave. I ruined everything, per my usual.” He headed for the door, but once

more Blake barred his escape.

“Why are you always running away from me?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” Warm palms cupped his face, forcing it upward. “The first time

was when we were kids, and you didn’t want me to see you cry. Then earlier,
when you thought you were in the wrong room. Third, when you ran from the
bed. And right now.”

His leg twitched, and though Blake held his face still, he would not meet his

eyes. “What? Are you keeping score?”

The soft, answering chuckle had him risking a peek. “Maybe I am. For starters,

you came once, but I haven’t. That’s not fair.”

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He stubbornly buried a smile. “No, I guess it’s not.”
“Will you please stay?”
He gazed up at his hero, the man he had worshipped since he was fifteen. How

could he say “no” to his kind expression, the one that had never judged or given
him reason to feel bad? It had always been Jason’s own self-deprecating
personality which ruined everything. Not Blake.

He let out a sigh. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”
“Good. Now, first things first.” He slid his hands under Jason’s arms and

hoisted him up.

“Hey!”
Blake planted Jason’s butt on the counter, placing them at eye level. Then he

stepped close, trapping him.

He crossed his arms. “I’m not a child and this is not funny.”
The playful man who’d gotten away with murder in high school, charmed all

the teachers, and wooed his fans had returned. He wrapped Jason’s legs around
his waist. “Don’t be grumpy.”

Oh, well, now that’s not so bad.
Blake eyed him sternly, running a finger back and forth across his chin. “You

better not smile,” he warned. “If you do, your face will crack.”

“I’m not amused.” Sounding annoyed was difficult with his legs around Blake.
He swayed his hips, making Jason warm all over. “I mean it, don’t smile.”
#fuckingadorable
A grin escaped.
“Ah-ha! It cracked. See?” He pointed at Jason’s mouth. “Right there.”
Then he delivered a gentle peck on his lips but withdrew all too quickly for

Jason’s liking. He tightened his legs, hooking his ankles so he couldn’t get too far
away.

“Now about this virgin business,” Blake said as if they were discussing the next

play on the field, not the most intimate detail of Jason’s life. “Are you sure you
wanna do this with me?”

“I’ve wanted you since high school,” he blurted, unable to believe he’d just

confessed that.

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A disbelieving smile danced on Blake’s lips. “Really?”
Jason gave him a “duh” face. “Don’t act so surprised.”
“Wanna know a secret?”
He waved a hand in consent. “Sure.”
“I had such a crush on you, too.”
His head snapped back. “You did?”
He grinned. “Oh yeah, you were so fucking cute in your little glasses with your

shoes untied all the time. And damn, you’re so smart. That’s sexy, ya know? I
remember the way you used to chew on your pencil, and I would stare at your
mouth, wishing I could kiss you. I didn’t know then, but I had a serious thing for
twinks.”

Jason frowned. “I hate that word.”
“What? Twinks?”
“Yes.”
“Only cuz it fits you perfectly.” He laughed, tousling his hair.
He pulled out of his reach. “No, it doesn’t, they’re girly.”
“Wrong! They’re hot! Do you know how much time I spend looking at twink

porn? Literally hours. And if I can find a ginger twink,” Blake groaned, “forget
about it! I’m a goner!”

Jason sniffed with feigned indifference, pretending the compliment didn’t

mean that much. “I prefer the jock stuff.”

Blake laughed, the booming sound bouncing off the tile.
Wanting more details, he regarded the bigger man. “You really liked me in

high school?”

“Remember the day we went to the movies?” Blake’s voice turned thick and

husky, rousing Jason’s groin. “Hugging you made me so horny. I don’t know how
I stopped myself from kissing you.”

“Why did you?” he asked in a small voice.
“Coach Stevenson. He’d warned me about getting distracted with girls. I was

eighteen, older than most kids. I figured fooling around with an underage guy
would get me in even more trouble. Plus I was being recruited by a Big Ten
school. I couldn’t fuck that up no matter how bad I wanted you. Besides, you were

The Best Ever

too young. You weren’t ready.”

He nodded. Twenty-two and still a virgin, he sure hadn’t been ready at fifteen.

Back then he’d been confused, still hoping he’d find a girlfriend to take to prom.
If Blake had made a move, he would’ve freaked out.

“But I wanted you,” he went on, lost in lustful memories. “You were so cute!

You started my twink fetish, ya know?”

“Stop calling me that!” Jason laughed, pushing him away when he tried to steal

a kiss.

“Twink, twink, twink,” he chanted. “You got me so hard, I had to jerk off in

your bathroom before the movie.”

His jaw dropped. “What?”
“I was afraid you’d hear me, but I had to do it. I was so fucking hard, and you

were so damn hot.” His hazel eyes darkened, turning a heady brown. “You’re still
hot. Hotter, even. Where did you get all these muscles?” He traced below one of
his pecs then down his abs, making Jason shiver.

“Karate.”
He gave a soft chuckle. “I told you to do that.”
“I know,” Jason whispered, breaths shortening. “I’m working on my brown

belt.”

“God, I wanna see that,” he murmured, his attention centered on his hand

caressing Jason’s bare chest.

Quietly, they touched each other, words unnecessary as they processed

everything that had been said. Jason could not get over the hairy, masculine chest
beneath his fingertips, the solid muscles, and the prickle of hair.

Or the fact Blake had wanted him all those years ago.
A funny notion struck him then. Could all the hoopla Bryn had spouted about

lost souls reuniting be true? Did Madame Eve offer more than a fantasy
encounter? He’d spent so much time regretting, wishing he’d kissed Blake, and
now it seemed fate had intervened to bring them together.

Blake ran his warm, lightly calloused hands down Jason’s arms. “How about

you take a minute to clean up, and I’ll fix us a drink? Then we can talk, see where
things go? No need to rush, right? It’s been seven years, what’s a little more

Deanna Wadsworth

time?”

He nodded, disappointed when Blake stepped back. Though happy Blake

respected him, he didn’t want to back down now. He’d been waiting for this
moment, this man all his life.

#itsnowornever
When he headed toward the door, Jason whispered, “Wait.”
He turned, brows raised in question. “You want some company in the

shower?”

Cheeks on fire, he nodded.
Blake sighed. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

The Best Ever

Chapter Six

In one fast move, Blake stood before him naked.
Eyes wide, Jason stared at his perfect male body. The muscles, the hair, the

semi-erect cock….oh God!

“Your turn,” Blake said, pointing at his jeans.
As if those words controlled his limbs, he shed his own clothing. Blake’s

expression was somewhere between a smile and desperation, soaking in his
smaller, naked form.

“Fuck, I love redheads,” he growled, eyes locked on Jason’s groin where a nest

of dark red curls framed his growing erection.

He flushed with pleasure. Though he’d just come in quite possibly the most

embarrassing fashion possible, Blake’s blatant hunger boosted his confidence.
Karate had matured and sculpted his body, but on the inside he’d always felt like
a geek. Yet, with Blake, he didn’t have to prove he was a man. Unbeknownst to
him, he’d never had to.

Blake had always liked him just the way he was.
Once the water heated, he climbed into the shower first. Blake’s massive body

filled up all of the good real estate, pushing him under the warm spray.

I’m in the shower with Blake Huntington.
#dreamcometrue
Facing the bigger man, he tentatively touched his hip. His large penis, fully

erect now, jutted into the stream of water. It had to be around eight inches, the
thick shaft tapering to a perfectly curved head, like an arrow—the ideal shape for
sliding into his ass. Or so he imagined. A tremor of fear and anticipation brought
goose bumps on his skin.

“Cold?” Blake held his arms to either side of Jason’s body to test the

temperature.

He shook his head, his attention never leaving the man’s erection.
“You can touch it, if you want,” Blake offered.

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Not needing to be told twice, he took another man’s cock in his hand for the

first time. He trembled at the feel of it, so firm and smooth. Hot. He knew how he
enjoyed being touched, and fondled those low hanging balls, pumping the shaft,
not too tight, but firm enough. With a shiver, Blake stroked Jason’s arms as he
played.

His mouth watering to taste, boldly, he knelt.
Without hesitation, he gripped the base and licked Blake’s head. Water

pounded Jason’s back, funneling into his mouth, but the underlying taste of
Blake spurred him on. He memorized that prick with his tongue, ignoring the
water running in his eyes, down his face, and making him cough. Nothing would
deter him. He’d waited far too long for this…for Blake.

When Jason choked on the water again, Blake shifted, stepping under the

spray. “Don’t need you to drown, babe.”

Jason gazed up at the tower of masculinity above him, a shiver of lust working

over his skin. The hero-worship he’d always experienced with Blake had been
replaced with a serene sense of comfort. It should have been awkward sucking a
man when he had never done more than kiss a couple of guys, but something
about Blake set him at ease. It always had.

Smiling, he turned his attention back to his very first blowjob. He nursed on

that swollen head, eliciting a moan from his new lover. He savored the heat and
texture of his skin as he pumped the shaft, loving the warm, salty taste of his
cock. Though headed down an unfamiliar path, he wanted to do this so badly.
And he trusted Blake to guide him.

Fingers wound in his hair, and those manly hips inched closer. Jason released

him to grip his butt and pull on him. He’d fantasized about a man fucking his face
so many times before and hoped the gesture conveyed his desires.

Blake understood, thrusting deep.
But that hard dick was more than Jason had prepared for. He gagged when it

stabbed at his throat, seeking entrance.

“Sorry,” Blake gushed, pulling back.
Spit drooled from his lips. “It’s not as easy as it looks in porn.”
Laughter echoed around them, and Blake brushed the wet hair from Jason’s

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face. “You don’t have to do this.”

No way was he not doing this. He shook his head, determined. “Lemme get

used to it, ’kay?”

He nodded, and held his erection out in offering.
Palms on those hairy thighs, Jason wrapped his lips over his teeth and took

him back in. He bobbed up and down on that delicious cock, not able to go as far
as he wanted, but doing his best to make it good for Blake. Judging by the gentle
caress on his hair and the moaning above, he was enjoying the inexperienced
technique.

With a groan, Blake lifted one leg and planted it on the edge of the tub, forcing

Jason to readjust his position. Just before Jason returned to sucking, Blake
leaned against the shower wall and squatted down a bit. He slipped his hand
behind his hip then winced, hissing a little. Water dripping in his eyes, Jason
gasped at the reckless way Blake threw his head back. A giddy sense of arousal
swept through him.

Holy shit, he’s fingering his ass!
Overcome by the erotic sight, Jason gave his own erection a few rubs. Blake

had joked about playing different positions, but Jason had thought he was
kidding. Yet now, watching him do this…he trembled. Fuck that’s hot!

Not wanting to be left out as his new lover pleasured himself, he took hold of

Blake’s shaft and jerked it in time with his own.

“Oh, yeah,” Blake encouraged, thrusting into Jason’s fist.
Curious and so turned on he feared another premature ejaculation, Jason

dropped his own cock. Tentatively, holding his breath and still stroking Blake, he
reached between the other man’s thighs and behind his balls to feel where he
teased his asshole. Blake grunted when he began to toy with the digit sinking into
his body.

Emboldened, he took his first two fingers and massaged the sides of Blake’s

opening. In and out the man’s finger plunged to the second knuckle, and Jason
smiled in delight. To know Blake enjoyed doing something Jason often did when
alone was a powerful aphrodisiac, but not as much as the shameless little
whimpering sounds the big jock made. His entire body flushed hot, aching and

Deanna Wadsworth

desperate to make Blake come.

“Jay, please! Get up in me,” he cried suddenly. He pulled his finger out and

seized Jason’s wrist, forcing him against his hole.

Obeying the desperate plea, he worked an index finger past his barrier.

Shocked by the pulsing flesh, the tightness, he moaned. “You’re so warm.”

Then Blake’s finger joined his, pulling on the skin, stretching it open. “More,”

he pleaded.

Jason slid a second one into that snug, manly flesh, fucking him in rhythm

with fisting his shaft. He knew what felt good in his own ass and curled his
fingers, hoping to hit the same spot for Blake. He knew right when he nailed it
because Blake clutched at the wall then twitched above him, the ring of his anus
convulsing. “I’m gonna come!”

Frantic, Jason plunged his fingers deeper and wrapped his lips around the tip

of Blake’s cock. He wanted to taste his cum so badly, it scared him a little. Blake
cried out, body shaking. His shaft pulsed against Jason’s tongue just before cum
spilled into his mouth. He tried to swallow it down, gulping like mad, but there
was more than he expected and the warm fluid overflowed onto his chin.

Clearing his throat, he smiled up at the first man he’d ever made come. “Did I

do it right?”

Blake pulled him to his feet as if he weighed nothing. He pressed him bodily

against the cold shower wall and kissed him hard. “Yeah, you did...so good,” he
whispered, licking his chin clean. Then he sucked droplets of water off his
earlobe. “So damn good.”

Reaching between their mashed bodies, he took Jason’s erection and pumped.
Jason’s eyes rolled back and ecstasy consumed him at that touch. Reveling in

the warmth of the water and the heat of Blake’s grip, he relinquished everything
to the more powerful man, leaning back while Blake ran his giant fist up his shaft,
twisting and squeezing, making him moan.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” Blake whispered.
Their eyes met and seeing the need, the lust, and the truth of those words in

his expression, Jason’s entire body convulsed.

“Come for me,” Blake encouraged, increasing speed. “I wanna see that face

The Best Ever

again.”

Throbbing pleasure pounded inside his groin, and his breathing grew short. In

one mind-blowing eruption, he came, hot globs of cum bursting onto Blake’s
hairy stomach. Gasping for air, pulse racing, he whimpered as his lover wrung
every last bit of pleasure from him.

Releasing his cock, Blake cupped his face. “I’m so glad they put us together. No

one could’ve ever measured up to you. They’ve never been able to.”

He clung to those solid arms, the larger body, so overwhelmed he could not

find the words. He buried his face in Blake’s chest, kissing it, the water getting
into his mouth and hairs tickling his lips. While he had paid Madame Eve for a
fantasy encounter, it frightened him to realize, after such a short time, how
desperately he wanted more.

Deanna Wadsworth

Chapter Seven

“You look like a little kid in that robe,” Blake teased.
After washing each other off in the shower in between languid kisses and

exploratory caresses, they had slipped into big, fluffy robes, which admittedly
were not sized for someone of Jason’s small stature.

He frowned. “Not funny.”
Blake laughed. “Yeah, it is.”
Having always been sensitive, somehow, when Blake teased him it didn’t feel

cruel, rather, like two buds goofing around. Though after everything they’d
shared, they were so much more than friends now. He always imagined he’d feel
awkward after being intimate with another man, but when Blake took his hand
and led him from the bathroom, nothing had ever felt so natural.

“Hungry?” Blake headed toward the food cart.
“Starved,” he said, until he remembered the weird food he’d seen earlier. He

gave the spread a suspicious look. In what world were fish eggs romantic?

Blake chuckled at his expression. “How about I order a pizza?”
“I’m sorta lactose intolerant.”
“Burger and fries?”
He let out a relieved sigh, grateful Blake didn’t have a negative reaction to yet

another item on Jason’s long list of nerd problems. “Perfect.”

He placed an order for a burger with fries, a cheeseburger with onion rings,

chips, pretzels, Diet Coke, and chocolate cake.

“You think that’s enough?” Jason asked when he got off the phone.
“Nah, I probably should’ve gotten pie too,” he joked as he retrieved something

from a duffle bag on the floor. “Wanna play Reign of the Zombie before the food
comes?”

“How did you get that? It isn’t even available to reviewers yet! It’s not

supposed to be released until Christmas!”

Blake grinned and slid the disc into the PS4 already hooked up to the sixty-

The Best Ever

three inch flat screen. He passed over a controller. “I got connections. You get all
sorts of cool stuff when you have your own video game.”

“Apparently.”
“Since you were attending the expo, I’m gonna assume you’re a halfway decent

player.”

Getting comfortable on the bed, Jason scoffed. “I’m not decent, I’m excellent.

Prepare to have your ass seriously kicked.”

He threw back his head and guffawed. “Oh it’s on, short-stack.”
“You’ll see, jock-boy. You’re goin’ down.”
They sat cross-legged beside one another, waiting for the game to boot up.

While they created their futuristic warriors, Blake kept messing with Jason’s
controller, pushing buttons and laughing like a teenager. They watched the
opening sequence in between good-natured barbs and more playful elbowing and
goofing around. The graphics were amazing, as advertised. When the zombies
burst onto the TV, they both jumped.

He looked over at Blake, and they busted up laughing at their overreaction to

the undead wreaking havoc, groaning, and tearing people apart.

Just before the game began, however, Blake paused it, studying his controller

and looking quite somber all of a sudden. “Jay?”

“Yeah?”
“I wanna see you again. At home.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle, cheeks reddening a bit. “Why do you think I

gave you my number? Hell, I almost canceled this encounter so I could hang out
with you all night. But that would’ve been a douche move.”

“I’m glad you didn’t cancel.”
A smile spread across his face, and he took Jason’s hand. “Me, too.”
He thought about kissing him, but a knock on the door startled them. “Room

service.”

Blake yanked his hand back, and his eyes widened in panic.
Instantly, he understood. “How about I use the bathroom?”
The grateful expression he wore gave Jason a pang. Why did the sports

Deanna Wadsworth

industry have to be so close-minded? Blake was one of the best pitchers of all
time. He’d be in the Hall of Fame before he turned thirty, if his stats held. What a
shame he had to hide when so many confused gay kids could use someone like
him as a role model. Look what he’d done for Jason all those years ago!

“Jay.” He halted him with a touch, face riddled with guilt. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t.” He cut his apology off by pinching his lips together the way Blake had

done to him once before. “I think it sucks you have to do this, but I totally
understand.”

Grinning freed his lips from Jason’s hold. “Thanks.”
On his tiptoes, he gave Blake a peck on the cheek then slipped into the

bathroom to wait.

“Food’s here,” Blake called after a moment.
When Jason joined him, he was already opening containers, examining the

smorgasbord of junk food. His stomach rumbled. Moving the cart closer to the
bed, they tucked into their late night dinner.

“My place in West Bloomfield is only forty-five minutes from Ann Arbor,”

Blake said around a mouthful of cheeseburger. “You gonna let me visit?”

He shrugged. “Probably.”
“Probably?”
Laughing, he flicked a fry at him. “You’d better visit me!”
Blake dodged the greasy projectile easily. “Of course you’ll be working for me

on the Scholastic project, so you’ll be in West Bloomfield whenever I’m not in
training or at a game.”

“I will, huh?” He raised his brows, amused by Blake’s assumption. Not that he

ever planned to say “no.”

“Duh,” he said, making a face. “And I can tell you right now, it’s gonna require

long hours. Long, long hours. I’m afraid sometimes we’ll work so hard you might
get tuckered out and you’ll have to stay the night.”

Jason chuckled and ate another fry, blissful contentment robbing his ability to

speak. Could all of this really be happening?

#pinchmeimustbedreaming
“All kidding aside, Jay, I know we haven’t seen each other for years, but I

The Best Ever

wanna give this a chance.” Blake gestured between them. “I can’t promise
everything right away. We couldn’t go public with our relationship until I retired,
or at least until I see what Jody thinks and talk to the team owner. But I can
promise to never have poser girlfriends while you sit at home alone. I would
never disrespect you like that. Never.”

Food lodged in Jason’s throat, and he couldn’t believe his ears. More than just

hanging out and a work project, Blake was talking about starting a long-term
relationship, coming out and potentially ruining his career—all for Jason.

#crazytalk
So why didn’t it feel that way?
“Blake?”
“Yeah?”
“I want,” he hesitated, cheeks warming. “I want to give all of that a try, too.

And I also wanna, you know? Do it…with you.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and those hazel eyes widened. “Right now?”
He stared at the man who’d inspired confidence within him from such a young

age. A man who had always wanted him just the way he was: geeky, red-haired,
and awkward.

Having never been surer of anything in his life, Jason nodded.
“Um,” Blake began, pointing at himself. “You want me to…um, top? Or do you

want to?”

His stomach leapt in anticipation. “Well, you are the professional pitcher, so

how about you first?”

“Oh, hell yes!” Fast as lightning, Blake gathered up their food and returned it

to the cart then switched off the TV. He tossed his robe aside, the intense hunger
on his face making Jason laugh.

“Eager, much?”
Blake grinned and crawled across the bed, reaching for the tie of his robe. “I’ve

been waiting for this all my life.”

All humor faded when their lips collided. Their impatient hands fumbled over

one another as they removed the robe, both desperate for more skin-to-skin
contact. Blake took Jason’s growing erection in hand and kissed his neck tenderly

Deanna Wadsworth

while he stroked him. “How do you wanna do this?”

“I wanna see your face.”
He smiled and grabbed a pillow. “Here, slide this under your hips. It’ll be more

comfortable.”

Grateful for the man’s concern, he waited, lying naked on the pillow while his

lover retrieved the supplies. Hard as a rock, Blake rolled on a condom, lubing it
generously. Seeing him touch himself had Jason stroking his own cock in
anticipation.

Blake’s eyes glazed over. “I could watch you jerk off all day.”
Unable to believe his own bravado, he widened his knees. “Wouldn’t you

rather fuck me?”

With a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper, Blake fell upon

him, sliding between his spread legs and kissing him. He drew back and caressed
Jason’s cheek. “No, I’d rather make love.”

He trembled at those precious words.
Lubing his fingers, Blake slipped them between Jason’s thighs. He winced

when they found the area of his ass untouched by another man. Blake circled his
opening, slicking it, all the while studying his face. But he could not meet Blake’s
eyes, feeling far too exposed. His confidence faltered and embarrassment
swamped him. What if he messed up? What if it hurt worse than he imagined?
Sure he’d fingered himself before, but Blake’s dick was kinda big and….

A finger probed at his opening, and Jason clenched.
Blake rubbed his belly with his other hand. “You gotta relax, babe, or it’s not

gonna be good.”

Lips tight, he exhaled and nodded with determination.
Blake made a sarcastic face. “That doesn’t look relaxed.”
“Okay, okay,” he insisted, forcing his body to cooperate. But when Blake

prodded at him, he tightened up once more.

“I won’t hurt you,” Blake promised, withdrawing.
“I know, it’s just….” He let out a defeated breath. “What are we gonna do?” he

all but whined. “It’s not working!”

Holding up both hands in truce, Blake smothered his chuckle. “Let’s forget

The Best Ever

about it for the moment. How about we kiss? We don’t have to do anything you’re
not comfortable with, okay?”

Feeling like an idiot, he nodded. Then Blake kissed him, and with his warm

body stretched out on top of him, that wonderful mouth playing with his, he
began to relax again. They rolled onto their sides, and a big hand caressed Jason’s
hip.

“Lift your knee,” Blake whispered.
He complied, wrapping it over his warm, hairy thigh. Still kissing him, Blake

reached between Jason’s legs, taking hold of his balls and massaging them. He
melted, loving the way those calloused hands palmed his delicate skin with expert
grace. Blake pumped his cock next, and pleasure swirled in Jason’s middle.
Moaning, he thrust into his grip.

Then that hand inched backward, one finger slipping inside his hole.
Startled by the intrusion, he hissed, back tensing.
“You okay?” Blake asked, holding still.
“I think so.” He cupped his face. “Just keep kissing me.”
He smiled and probed deeper, all the while tonguing his mouth. Having

another man’s finger up his ass was nothing like playing with himself. It felt
warmer, and he didn’t know which way it would move. Anticipation coupled with
the foreign sensation made him harder, and he humped Blake’s stomach, pulling
on the one—no, wait, two fingers!

When did he get another one up there?
Pulling back from the kiss, Jason smiled in wonder. “I didn’t even notice that

time.”

“Cuz you’re relaxing.”
Closing his eyes, he clung to Blake’s neck, raising his knee for greater access.

He trusted this man, wanted him inside his body. Slowly, those fingers
penetrated him, going deeper. When he scissored them, Jason groaned.

“Feel good?”
“Uh-huh,” he managed, grunting in surprise when Blake located the spot that

up until this point nothing but a few toys and his finger had ever found. The
warmth of his touch, the way he stroked inside him…. he shook, thrusting back,

Deanna Wadsworth

welcoming the intrusion, craving it now.

“More,” he pleaded. “I can take more. Please….”
Blake withdrew and guided him onto his back, pillow beneath his hips.
His heart pounded.
This was finally it.
One large hand stroked his stomach and heaving chest. “Don’t tense up, Jay.”
But he had been rendered pliable and ready under Blake’s gentle schooling.

Jason stroked his arms, loving the muscles beneath his palms. Seeing the big
man, the object of his fantasies, between his spread knees with the lights of Vegas
framing him, Jason wanted to cry.

His whole life, this had been the person he wanted to be here with.
The first and only man he’d ever wanted inside his body.
Expression tender, Blake rested one hand on Jason’s knee and pushed it back.

“Relax, babe,” he whispered as he took hold of his shaft. “You ready?”

Completely ready, he smiled and nodded. Blunt pressure prodded at his ass.

He wanted it so badly, but the sharp bite of pain took him by surprise. “Ow!”

Blake caressed his lower abdomen but did not pull out. “Just breathe.”
He forced a few deep nasal breaths, trying to remain relaxed. Blake’s cockhead

felt ten times the size of his fingers, and his asshole burned from the intrusion.
His erection began to wilt.

“Push out while I push in, babe,” Blake instructed.
Determined for that big dick to fit, to be joined with Blake Huntington in the

most intimate way, he obeyed. His cock parted Jason’s virginal flesh, sending
sharp pain throughout him. He breathed through it, then—thank God—in two
more aching attempts, it slid all the way inside. They held very still, and Jason
continued with slow and steady breaths.

“You okay?” Blake’s voice strained with need.
“Yeah, it’s just….” He gazed into those beautiful hazel eyes, giving him a

wobbly smile. “Gimme a sec to get used to it, okay?”

The initial burn had subsided to the point it almost faded and along with it, his

erection. In truth, it felt strange to have something inside him, full and odd. Like
he had to go to the bathroom, but completely different altogether. He couldn’t

The Best Ever

quite describe it.

“Okay,” he finally whispered. “You can move now.”
His lover let out a tremulous sigh. Arms planted on the bed on either side of

him, Blake drew back. Jason hissed in surprise, but the motion relieved some of
the pressure, sending a tremor of something through him. He moaned when the
man slid back in.

Oh yeah, in was definitely better than out.
#thereisadickinmyass #awesome
He gave a breathless chuckle, unable to believe he was no longer a virgin.
“Why are you laughing?” A curious smile played on Blake’s face above him.
Stroking his cheek, he memorized the flush of his lover’s skin, the way his hair

fell down around his face. “Never mind, just do it, okay?”

He gave him a devilish smile. “Whatever you say, babe.”
“Oh God,” he groaned when Blake began to thrust. “Feels sooo good.”
As they set a rhythm, his back arched, and he used Blake’s arms for leverage to

rock his hips in time with the cock entering him. Damn, the constant movement
felt glorious. Yeah, that was his favorite part.

Then Blake twisted his hips upward, driving into a nerve-rich part of his

insides he only thought he understood. Anatomically he knew it had to be his
prostate or the general vicinity Blake nailed, but Jason had never experienced
anything like the wonderful delight swirling through his insides and in his balls.
Fuck, even his dick stood back up, getting involved.

Body trembling, he rolled with Blake, but he needed more. His chest had

grown cold, and he craved the heat of skin against him. “Can you get closer?”

“Yeah.” He thrust in all the way, staying buried inside him while shifting

positions. He looped his arms under Jason’s knees, stretching his hamstrings.
The angle was different than before, but so damn good. “Better?”

His eyes smarted, not from pain, rather from the intensity of his connection to

this man. He nodded, clutching at those broad shoulders, his face, and any inch
of flesh he could reach. “Kiss me while you make love to me, please!”

Blake chuckled. “You’re a bossy little thing.”
“You love it.”

Deanna Wadsworth

“I do.”
Their lips met, tongues swirling as they moved as one, bodies locked in

passion.

Blake grasped his dick and Jason cried out when that big hand began to jerk

him off. Being folded in half, covered by the man of his dreams, united below the
waist…his body convulsed, his back seized. He’d never felt more alive!

It didn’t take long for the familiar rush to hit him, the surge of pleasure. One

more thrust and Blake squeezing him sent Jason over the edge. He shook, lost to
an ecstasy the likes of which he’d never experienced. Cum nailed him in the chin,
smearing between their writhing bodies.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Blake cried, pummeling him fast and furious. He froze,

buried himself deep, and then he came, too.

Vision blurred, heart pounding, he held onto Blake for dear life. He never

imagined anything could be so beautiful, so intense. What had he been thinking,
to give away his virginity to a stranger?

It had always belonged to Blake and no one else.
At one time, Blake had been the student. But now, he realized, and even back

then, he had always been the one teaching Jason.

Bodies still joined, they held each other close, panting and breathing heavily.

He loved Blake’s weight on him, the feel of his softening cock still inside his ass,
but eventually the larger man became too heavy. “Ungh, you’re sort of crushing
me.”

“Sorry.” With an amused sigh, Blake withdrew and shifted his weight. When he

did, the condom stayed behind.

“Whoops!” Blake laughed, pulling it out.
He squirmed, the slithering of the latex tickling him.
Tossing the rubber in the garbage, Blake regarded him for a long, thoughtful

moment. “How do you feel?”

Warm, sleepy contentment swept over him. “Good.”
“That it?”
“My butt’s tender and kinda stretched out,” he admitted.
Chuckling, Blake slipped his hand between his legs to caress the gaping, wet

The Best Ever

skin. “Sensitive?” he asked when he shivered.

He nodded, loving the soft exploration, the way he played with a place no one

else had been allowed near.

Stretching his long body alongside Jason’s, Blake kissed him. “Thank you,” he

whispered around a yawn, “for letting me be your first.”

“You’re welcome. But I should be thanking you.”
Blake flipped the light off. “Sleep first,” he ordered. “Then you can thank me

again in the morning.”

“Deal.”
Jason did not voice how he wanted Blake to be his last, too. The time would

come for that conversation, he was sure of it. For now he would revel in the
perfection of the moment, of being in Blake’s arms.

Something magical had started here in Vegas, whether fate, luck, or a

mysterious matchmaking woman and her fantasy service had caused it, Jason
didn’t care. He was just glad to be with Blake.

The big guy spooned up behind him, and Jason snuggled in with a sigh. He

was almost too wired to sleep but the moment those strong, masculine limbs
wrapped around his body, serenity overcame him, and he slipped into nirvana.

Buzzing from the nightstand woke him a short while later. The faint pink in the

sky above the Vegas cityscape spoke of dawn rising, but the lights still shone like
a rainbow.

Who would be texting him at this hour?
“That your phone?” Blake murmured sleepily. “You have to go?”
“No, I don’t have to go.” He reached for the intrusive device.
“Good,” he muttered, his arm draped across Jason’s stomach. “I don’t want

you to go. Ever.”

Happiness washed over his heart. To hell with the video game expo, Jason

wasn’t getting out of this bed any sooner than he had to.

The phone in his hand buzzed again. He wished he’d had remembered to turn

off the darn alert, which would keep sounding until he checked it.

“My sister,” he explained when he saw her name.
Blake groaned, rolling onto his back and stretching. “Tell her to go away. Her

Deanna Wadsworth

brother is supposed to be doing inappropriate things to me.”

“Oh I am?”
“Yes,” he said in a petulant, whiney tone.
He chuckled, mind already conjuring all sorts of inappropriate things he

wanted to do to Blake.

It was five a.m. in Vegas, and Abby had obviously forgotten about the time

difference. Then again, Jason was usually an early riser. But he’d never stayed up
this late making love with a gorgeous man.

Well, things were about to change dramatically in that department.
Smiling to himself, he read the message: Having a good time?
He glanced at his new lover, the man’s ample morning wood tenting the sheet.

Blake saw where his gaze had gone and pointed at his dick expectantly, raising his
eyebrows.

Jason laughed. Seeing a whole future of possibilities with this wonderful man,

his hero, his dream, he sent one last text before turning the phone to silent and
diving back into Blake’s arms.

#thebestever

About the Author

Bestselling erotica author Deanna Wadsworth leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio

with her hubby of 16 years and three demanding little dogs. She has a fascination

with the exotic and taboo but her love of love in all its stages and incarnations

motivate her to write Romance with Spice and Love without Boundaries.

You can visit with Deanna at

http://deannawadsworth.blogspot.com

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