Travis hired 1 Night Stand hoping for a hot encounter with a sexy older, hairy man, someone to make him feel safe and cherished, and John looks custom made to order.
After losing his partner three years ago, John needs to learn how to open his heart and live again. He thinks a one night stand in the Caribbean might be the answer, but when he sees the young, thin and much smaller Travis, he thinks the agency sent the wrong man.
Can desire overcome misunderstanding when these two bear it all? Or will both men walk away from exactly what they need and desire?
Damn, Madame Eve knew how to deliver.
Unable to believe his luck, Travis Hunter half wondered if the woman had somehow snooped in his private spank-bank of fantasies to create the man just for him.
John Godfrey—well, that was the name he’d given 1NightStand. Travis still couldn’t be sure if others had been as dumb as he was and actually given their real names to the service. Regardless, the name suited him. Simple and understated.
Ironically, everything John was not.
His date—he couldn’t bear to think of him as only a hook-up—arrived on the pool deck moments after Travis ordered his second mojito. The man’s unbound, sandy blond hair fell almost halfway down his back, just begging for Travis to run his fingers through it. Even as all the tanned beach studs frolicked with their bikini-clad girlfriends and kids splashed about, John still managed to turn heads. Then again, not every day did someone tower over the crowd with six-foot-five inches of ripped, hair-covered muscles.
Travis swallowed back the drool when John gripped the back collar of his T-shirt with one hand and pulled it off before heading for the shallow end of the pool.
“Hey, get a load of the Grizzly Adams,” a girl nearby whispered. “Ever heard of a back wax?”
Travis shot the two girls a look as they fell into fits of hysterical giggles. He curled his lip in disgust, suppressing the urge to snarl at them. Bimbos. What the hell did they know about real men? Real men knew how to fix things. They drank beer and ate meat and potatoes—not salads and tofu.
And most of all: Real men had hair. Lots and lots of delicious body hair.