Love is Scary by Cheryl Dragon
m/m erotic contemporary romance
length: short novella
BLURB:
Ryan's brain child of an adults only haunted house with club attached is big risk…he needs Wes's genius to make it real. But when the men meet, it goes way beyond business.
Off relationships, Wes can't handle another high maintenance man half in the closet. Ryan has so much in his work life that sex only sounds good to him. When passion overflows into their common goals, love has a way of sneaking through.
Setting his sketches out on the coffee table, Wes checked the logic in his flow and it worked. His creativity took over and went all out. The vision and scope came together well.
Wes sat back on the sofa and took a deep breath. It felt great to be on a design project instead of demolishing an abandoned, or condemned, home. The creative work had dried up in the Big Easy and even building was slow.
Ryan's image crept back into his mind. Wes tried to ignore the stab of arousal. Long distance, their business plans matched up perfectly. They were on the same page and it all clicked. He should've known that'd spell trouble.
No way would Wes screw up this job by hitting on Ryan, no matter how hard Ryan stared. The chemistry was hard to ignore. Besides Wes had sworn off relationships. Ryan didn't seem like the random, or casual, sex type.
Wes's cell phone rang a Vegas tune and he grabbed it. At some point he'd given Ryan his own ring tone and Wes felt like an idiot with a crush. “Wes Taylor,” he answered like any other business call.
“It's Ryan. Too late to look at your samples?” he asked.
Wes almost said no just to keep his self-control. But business had to come first. “Never too late for me. Come over whenever you want.”
“Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes. Can I get you a coffee?” he offered.
“Nope, I'm good. See you soon.” Wes ended the call. Vegas prices were crazy. Wes had made a run to a discount store and stocked up on water, soda, beer, and snacks.
Wes straightened up the hotel room a little and grabbed himself a bottle of water. Ryan knocked on the door and Wes' stomach knotted. This high-strung ad exec with a dream somehow had gotten to Wes.
He opened the door and Ryan smiled, sexy as ever. Those hazel eyes fit Ryan perfectly, a mix of things in which someone could get lost. “Come in,” Wes said.
Ryan entered, still toting his travel mug of coffee. Wes noted that Ryan's light brown hair was a bit more mussed than earlier and his sleeves were rolled to the elbow. Just what Wes needed to see, lean muscled arms. “I've got water, beer, and soda.” Ryan had to be overdosing on the coffee now, it after eleven.
“I'm good.” Ryan sat on the sofa and looked at the sketches.
“Did you go to some fancy steakhouse for dinner with the clients?” Wes asked.
“Yeah, at the hotel the clients are staying. I didn't really eat much. These sketches are perfect.”
Wes sat down next to Ryan. “Glad you like them. I've got some leftover chicken stripes in the little fridge if you want. They're spicy.”
Ryan scooted back a few inches. “No thanks. I don't eat much in general. Coffee and work.”
“You'd never make it in New Orleans. Food and fun is our business.”
“I like New Orleans, just not a big eater. Vegas has a ton of food but I live here. I don't even notice it anymore.” He grabbed one of the sketches. “She's topless?”
Wes chuckled. “Yeah, a topless zombie blackjack dealer. I don't draw breasts a lot. The players are transfixed on her assets and when people get closer to look the players turn on them and they're disfigured. They try to pull the people in to take their places.”
“Perfect.” Ryan leaned closer.
“And there are more people who jump out from behind and guide them to the roulette wheel.” Wes inhaled Ryan's subtle aftershave and the scent of coffee. Fighting this attraction would really be impossible.
“What happens at the roulette wheel?” Ryan looked up at him.
Wes' brain stopped over-thinking things.
“People keep their hands on their bet and all the losers get their hands chopped off. You'll like the craps table. A hot naked guy lying on his stomach is the table. His back's painted and they throw dice on it.”
Ryan stiffened. “Why would I like that? It's good to have something for the women to enjoy as well. It needs to be balanced but why would I care?”
Grabbing Ryan by the shoulders, Wes suppressed a chuckle. A closet case. At least there was no pressure. “Don't worry. I'm not after a relationship. I've been screwed too many times. But you're driving me crazy.” Wes yanked Ryan's dress shirt opened and pushed him back on the couch.
Ryan held onto Wes' shoulders. “What are you doing?” he asked.
If that was his idea of fighting off a man, Wes knew he'd win in seconds. Stretching out on Ryan's lean form, Wes cupped the back of Ryan's head and pulled him closer. Wes kissed him, no finesse or subtly. He possessed Ryan's mouth.
Ryan's hands pulled on Wes' T-shirt as his mouth opened eagerly. Just sex! Wes reminded himself as the warmth of Ryan's hard body melted any resolve left. This was no club hook up.
Kissing down Ryan's lean chest, Wes could feel every muscle with his tongue as he teased Ryan's nipples and let the crisp chest hair graze his cheek. He unbuckled Ryan's belt and opened his fly over the hard cock. His boxers tented and Wes teased him through the slippery fabric.
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