by Shelley Munro
Space captain Rafi Mura has a guilty secret. He loves his best friend Roberto “Bob” Azam in a romantic sexual kind of way. Not that he’s fool enough to confess since friendships have died for lesser reasons.
Bob is a renowned Sex Idol champion who has fallen on hard times after a tricky Kama Sutra move leaves him badly injured. Now dubbed the Fallen Idol all Bob wants is to reconcile with his former partner Fifi and regain her love.
Rafi is horrified when circumstances throw them together. Temptation. Promises. Stupid promises. He wishes he’d never agreed to help Bob prepare to go out on the sex circuit again.
Each sensual touch places Rafi constantly on edge and he hungers for more. Much more. Rafi needs to walk away yet he can’t bear the thought of anyone else training with Bob, touching his lover. Each lingering stroke, each compelling kiss is pure torture. Rafi doesn’t know what to do. He can’t admit the strength of his feelings because he’ll lose everything—lover and best friend—but he can’t help thinking that guilty secrets have a way of biting the unwary in the butt.
“Come here,” Bob said, taking charge. He decided not to undress Rafi yet. Instead he’d concentrate on getting his friend to relax. It would help him as well. He hadn’t had sex let alone thought about the act for months. Hell, his cock had only just come back to life. Vroom emasculated a man. He knew that now and since he was clean, he wasn’t going to touch the stuff again. In fact, each time he won or placed in a contest, he was going to donate to the Anti-Vroom Foundation. That was a promise.
Rafi took half a step and stopped. They stared at each other for a long moment. Slowly, so as not to alarm his friend, Bob placed his hand on Rafi’s shoulder, intending to draw them closer. A frisson of electricity arced between them. Bob blinked in astonishment when his cock reared with enthusiasm, the innocent touch echoing through his body. Wow. That was unusual. Unexpected. His gaze drifted to Rafi’s full lips and dallied, taking in the sexy shape. He’d never noticed before—the plump curves just made for tasting and sucking.
A soft sound, almost a moan, whooshed from Rafi.
“Right here,” Bob murmured, urging him near. When he looked at Rafi his stomach contracted to a tight ball of apprehension, surprising him. Awareness rippled through him, prickling across his skin in an enticing manner. Bob inhaled and let his breath ease out slowly. He’d trained at one of the best schools, learning every sexual technique from self-pleasuring to toys and different positions a good sex performer might need onstage. Bob knew theory and practical methods inside out and had performed with both male and female partners before. His preference was for a feminine partner. He stared at Rafi while his friend prevaricated. The jump of sexual arousal, of lust, had to be caused by deprivation. Yeah. Lack of sex would do that to a man—make him desperate.
Rafi took another half step, looking as though he might bolt at any moment.
Bob chuckled and grasped Rafi’s broad shoulders, took control, drawing him firmly against his naked chest. Rafi shuddered, his pupils contracting an instant before his eyes snapped closed. Bob chuckled again. “You know this won’t work if you freeze up every time we touch. It’s not too late to change your mind.”
Rafi groaned an instant before his mouth slammed down on Bob’s.
Bob froze, taken by surprise yet again at the surge of excitement that zipped through his own body.
Rafi froze too. He pulled back and they stared at each other.
“That’s the way,” Bob whispered in encouragement. “But not quite as hard. I’d like to keep my natural teeth if I could.”
“It’s not as if you haven’t done this before. You prefer men.”
“So?” Rafi’s jaw tightened and lifted in a pugnacious manner.
“Lighten up. Use the kisses to arouse me.” Bob glanced down at his cock. It was there but wasn’t in full working order. Yet. “Help me get ready. It’s known as warm-up out on the contest circuit. Some people call it foreplay.”
Rafi’s jaw worked and a flare of irritation lit his dark eyes. “I know what foreplay is,” he gritted out.
“Then get with the program,” Bob snapped. “Kiss me, dammit. Arouse me.”
“Fine.” Rafi jerked his hand off Bob’s shoulder and glared at him. “I’ll turn you on.” He trailed his fingers across Bob’s chest and leaned in to kiss his neck. His lips nuzzled the skin below his ear and Bob felt Rafi’s tongue lick a slow path downward, the brush of stubble. Rafi pulled away. “How’s that for a start?”
Pretty damned good. But an imp made him want to needle his friend and pretend that the reaction in his body came about because of Fifi. Suppressing a smirk, he glanced down at his cock before meeting Rafi’s dark gaze. “Nothing much stirring."
Rafi glanced down as well. Bob literally felt his friend’s gaze tracing his cock. He tried really hard to control his reaction but his dick jolted, lengthening while they both watched. Shit. That reaction hadn’t been anything to do with Fifi. He couldn’t seem to hold her image in his mind. Rafi’s handsome face kept intruding. Bob shivered, his blood pumping hotly through his veins as he bit back the need to beg for Rafi to touch him more intimately.
Rafi laughed with a trace of smugness. “You don’t say? I think there’s a bit of reaction in the old boy.”