Three years ago, Winston Abernathy did something completely out of character -- he had a one-night stand with a gorgeous dancer. But the next day, the dancer left for New York to try to make it big on Broadway, and Win went back to dating men who were like himself -- boring, bland paralegals.
Now that dancer, Randy Lincoln, is back in Los Angeles. That amazing night with Randy has fueled Win's fantasies for the past three years, yet he doesn't believe a man like Randy would be interested in someone like him. Much to his surprise, Randy wants to see him, and for longer than one night. Maybe this time they can have a chance for a relationship.
But when Randy gets an opportunity to dance in a Las Vegas show, Win wonders if he'll have to let Randy go for good.
“Oh my God, it's you."
Randy stared at the guy holding the door open and tried to think of who he was. He admitted there was a vague familiarity there, mostly around the mouth.
The guy, the grandson, Randy assumed, was kind of cute in a sort of reserved geek way. He had dark hair, cropped short so that his rather largish ears stuck out, a slightly crooked nose, probably broken one too many times, and full lips that turned up just a bit at the corners. The quirky lips were what seemed familiar to Randy.
But really, he couldn't exactly place this guy and he didn't want to be rude and admit that.
"It certainly is," Randy said, putting on his most flirtatious smile. "And it's you, too. How about letting me in?"
"Oh. Sorry."
He stood aside to let Randy in, so Randy slipped past him, making sure to rub against him along the way.
"Small world, huh? How long has it been?"
The guy narrowed his eyes -- hazel, Randy noticed--and tilted his head to the side. "You don't actually know who I am, do you?"
Caught, unfortunately.
"Well, I ... No. Sorry."
The guy sighed and shook his head. "My name is Win."
"Win."
Win rolled his eyes. "Yeah. About three years ago we met at a bar. You were leaving the next day --"
"And we fucked in the parking lot, and then went to your apartment and fucked again." Randy nodded, the whole night coming back to him in a rush. It was the night before he'd flown to New York. He'd slipped out of bed in the hours before dawn without waking up the guy, Win, before he left.
Win reddened. "Yes, that's right."
Randy grinned and stepped closer, so close that Win was backed against the wall. "You wore glasses then."
"I wear contacts now."
"Nice. I like to see your eyes. You were really good with your ... hands." He dropped his gaze to Win's big, long-fingered hands twisted in a grip in front of him. "And other parts, too."
"Ha, you didn't even remember me."
"True," Randy acknowledged. "But I definitely remember now. Those hands, those lips, that big beautiful cock pounding into me."
"Jesus!" Win shook his head. "Our grandmothers are in the kitchen."
He smiled. "All right, I'll behave. For now. I was sorry I had to leave in the morning though. I really liked you."
Win straightened from the wall. "You mind giving me my personal space back?"
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