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Curious (The Finn Factor #1)
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Are you Curious?
Jeremy Porter is. Though the bisexual comic book artist has known Owen Finn for most of his life—long enough to know that he is terminally straight—he can’t help but imagine what things would be like if he weren’t.
Owen is far from vanilla—as a dominant in the local fetish community, he sees as much action as Jeremy does. Lately even more.
Since Jeremy isn’t into collars and Owen isn’t into men, it seems like his fantasies will remain just that forever…until one night when Owen gets curious.
Warning: Contains explicit m/m nookie. A lot of it. Very detailed. Two men getting kinky, talking dirty and doing the horizontal mambo. Are you reading this? Do you see them on the cover? Guy parts will touch. You have been warned.
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The lights at the edge of the dock flickered on as the last of the day disappeared. Jeremy stared at the still lake as it absorbed the vibrant shades of orange, gold and pink from the sunset until all those colors faded, leaving behind only blacks and blues. The darker colors suited his mood.
He was so lost in his brooding and watching the transition of color through his kitchen window that he nearly dropped his beer in the sink when he heard the knock at his front door. “Damn it.”
Owen was here.
He lifted the bottle to his lips and drank until there was nothing left, then set it on the counter more forcefully than necessary while he debated whether or not to reach for his third of the hour.
It wasn’t helping. The view, the color study, the buzz from the tequila and beer he’d downed on an empty stomach—nothing was relaxing him the way it usually did. He was tense about tonight. Jumpier than he should be.
Owen’s thirty-fifth birthday. Any other year and he’d be at the Finn family pub by now, drinking and playing darts with the Owen’s brothers, teasing their baby sister about her upcoming wedding, and watching Owen revel in his favorite tradition—kissing every woman in the establishment he wasn’t related to. Because he was Irish, he’d tell them with a smile. “Every damn day.”
But not this year.
The second knock sounded impatient, and Jeremy ran his hands over his face, smoothing his full beard before he walked toward the door. This year Owen had called and asked if he could hang out at Jeremy’s instead. No party. No shamrock-shaped cake covered in lewd candles. No women for him to kiss and charm and take home for an all night celebration.
It wasn’t that big a deal, he told himself. Between construction jobs and girlfriends, Owen came over so much he might as well live here. It had been like that since Jeremy bought the four-bedroom home on the lake. It had more space than his own Spartan bachelor pad, and he could walk outside and go fishing or swimming whenever the mood struck him. Owen loved the place almost as much as he did, and Jeremy had to admit he enjoyed the company.
What was messing with his head were the weeks of silence that preceded this last-minute visit. Weeks when Owen hadn’t done much more than answer texts with short, noncommittal replies. He hadn’t stopped by after work or called to harass him into leaving the house and coming out for a drink or going to see a movie the way he usually did. Hadn’t taken temporary ownership of Jeremy’s big screen television to watch a football game. Close to three weeks when Jeremy hadn’t had the nerve to end the blackout himself, accepting the excuse of Owen’s busy work schedule, though he knew the real reason for his absence.
Bracing himself, Jeremy opened the door, seeing the familiar logo on a large pizza box as Owen pushed it toward his chest and brushed past him. “What took you so long? Daydreaming again? I brought dinner.”
His lips twitched and he shook his head. “I was going to order from the Indian restaurant.”
He followed Owen down the hall and into the kitchen where his friend opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of beer. “I figured. We’ll eat that spicy mystery stew you love so much for your birthday. Tonight, it’s my slumber party and I say we dine on mushrooms, pepperoni and cheese.” He sent him a hopeful grin. “And Xbox?”
“Sure.” Jeremy snorted, his tense shoulders relaxing a little. Owen didn’t seem upset. It was almost as if nothing had happened. Nothing had changed. “I thought you turned thirty-five today, not sixteen.”
“Says the man who draws comics for a living.”
“That comeback never gets old. Grab the paper plates from the pantry and some napkins, please.”
“Yes, Mother,” followed the dramatic sigh.
Jeremy snuck a glance as Owen opened the pantry and dug around for the plates, displaying his oh so tight end. Still sexy after all these years.
Owen Finn had been the hot high school quarterback with good grades, crystal blue eyes and a thousand watt smile. The guy every girl on campus had wanted to date, and time had only increased his appeal.
The owner of Finn Construction had laugh lines that had deepened over the years and his work had given him a warm, healthy tan and bleached his dark blond hair with strands of gold. He was a few inches taller than Jeremy’s six-foot-one, with a leaner body and a sensual stride that gave both men and women whiplash when he walked by. They either wanted to be him or be with him, but no one could ignore him.
Least of all Jeremy. His body reacted instantly to the scenery and he sighed, knowing it was going to be a long night.