James attends his sister's wedding reception, where he tries to avoid the father he hasn't spoken to in six years by ducking outside. Behind a restaurant, he meets chaos in gaudy plaid pants and platform boots. A wild boy who goes by the name of Jack. Up against a brick wall, Jack takes James on a feral ride he'll never forget. More
I'd kicked cigarettes three years ago, but I needed an excuse to get away from Dad. It always escalated into an argument with him, and I refused to spoil my sister's wedding reception. So when I spotted the short, portly bastard headed my way, I faked a nic fit then slipped out the back door of the restaurant.
I sighed as my ass hit the cool sidewalk. A spring breeze drifted by, and I inhaled deeply of the city scents it carried. Hot dogs from street vendors, fuel exhaust, and a potpourri of freshly served food coming from the restaurant. Soaking this in relaxed me.
Until I looked to my left and saw a gorgeous blond man walking toward me. His hair was a mess of spikes. He was about six foot. Dressed in gaudy plaid pants and a t-shirt far too tight. But I wasn't complaining. Though he wore a leather jacket over top, I could still make out well defined pecs, a toned stomach. I looked up from where his tight pants bunched in an impressive bulge and our gazes met.
He had doe eyes and a crooked grin. My mouth went dry, and I tried to look away, but failed on the first try. Normally, the attention of a handsome male lifted a crappy mood, but not today. Today, I just wanted solitude. Dealing with my overbearing father was stress enough.
I was never much of a punk fan, but something about my unexpected guest intrigued me. Still, he seemed to spell trouble, so I forced myself to stare at my shoes instead.
C.J. Sneere writes m/m fiction from his home amidst concrete giants. That's his fancy way of saying he's an urban jungle dweller. He doesn't do Twitter or Facebook. He's too busy doing bears and pretty boys instead.