The Book of Daniel by Z. A. Maxfield Page A

to be manhandled that way. In the darkness he was little more than an immense silhouette, man and muscle, a huge presence. He was capable of astonishing tenderness, but I couldn’t forget he could bench-press my weight and throw me around like a toy. He took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine, tentatively at first, and then tilting his head to deepen the kiss, slipping the hands that clutched me around my back to pull me into a tight embrace.
    He reeled me in—like St. Nacho’s itself—trying to drag me down with peace and sentiment and pleasurable sensory overload until I stopped struggling.
    I broke the kiss and pushed him gently away without—I hoped—sending the message that his kiss wasn’t welcome. I was breathless and my skin tingled everywhere.
    Cam’s gaze traveled from my eyes to my dick and back again—like a god, giving his creation the once over and he saw that it was good.
    Cam’s smile lit up the otherwise darkened corner of the lot.
    “Fr-Friday.” That came out weaker than I intended. He nodded, and I got into my car and headed home.

Chapter Ten
     
    I made it back in time on Friday the following week to pick up Cam from his apartment just before noon. He answered the door wearing his cat around his neck like a workout towel. The animal hung there motionless except for a loud purr—completely content—while Cam made his last-minute preparations. He gathered his keys and wallet, lifted his duffel, and said, “Okay”. Spot came to life and leaped down off his shoulders to rub up against his legs.
    “Back soon,” Cam told her. I watched him reach down and scratch one last time under her chin. “Jennifer will stop by while I’m gone to check on you.”
    When he was done reassuring his cat, Cam turned a happy face to me and took my breath away. He looked damp and freshly scrubbed, but utterly casual. He hadn’t shaved, so his cheeks were covered with a golden stubble that winked in the sunlight when we exited his apartment and walked to my car.
    “Mind driving? I just drove in from Santa Cruz, and I could use a break.”
    “Sure.”
    I gave him my keys, and he took the wheel after throwing his bag in the trunk.
    He wore a subdued Hawaiian shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. I’d gone with lightweight denim jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and I’d thrown a sweatshirt in the back of the car.
    “Are you sure you’ll be warm enough?”
    “I’m sure.” He grinned at me as he edged the car out onto the street. “I don’t get cold.”
    “Never?”
    “Not that I can remember. It doesn’t get cold enough on the coast here. I guess in the winter I might put on a jacket, or if it snowed or something…”
    I watched the way he gripped the steering wheel with one hand while he let the other rest on the door. His forearms made my stomach do a funny flip. “You have all those muscles to generate heat.”
    He grinned, then flexed them. “Maybe.”
    “So where do you want to go?” I asked. I’d done some checking on the web, and made reservations in a nice Pismo Beach hotel, but other than that, I was completely open to suggestions.
    “There are some tidal pools about an hour south, and we could stop for lunch near there.”
    “Sure.” The car had hardly started, and I was already feeling the pull of a nice nap. I’m afraid I yawned.
    He glanced at me and grinned. “Don’t let me keep you awake.”
    “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” I grabbed my sweatshirt from the backseat and bunched it up. “I’ll be ready to go as soon as the car stops rolling. The combination of being tired and the motion of the car knocks me out.”
    “All right.” He turned on the radio and fished around for a clubby hip-hop station. He was going to hate my presets. “You rest. I hear old guys need that, and I’ll wake you when we get there.”
    I flipped him off, but my heart wasn’t in it; he was right. I pushed my sweatshirt up against the window and fell asleep.
    I dreamed