About Boys of Summer: Sharing Spaces
by Stephanie Vaughan
32 pages
/ 13500 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-213-3, 1-60370-213-X
Available file types - lit, pdf, prc
DJ is looking for a roommate for his condo, and Joe seems perfect. Except for one thing. Joe's number one rule of sharing spaces is not falling for your roommate, and DJ is definitely falling in lust with Joe.
DJ tries hard to deny the attraction, but Joe's Italian good looks, his motorcycle and charm soon make DJ regret his choice. And when it looks like Joe might think of breaking Rule Number One himself, DJ has a hard time looking and not touching.
Can these two share space without giving in to their need?
Sample
“DJ?”
“Yeah, I’m DJ. You must be Joe.”
“Yeah. Joe D’Alessandro. How ya doin’?”
DJ was so stunned, staring into the biggest, brownest eyes he’d ever seen, that it took him a moment to realize the guy standing at his door had stuck out his hand to shake. Belatedly offering his own, DJ hesitated a second before clasping the outstretched hand and shaking briefly. It was a little old school, but for a face like that he could deal with it.
“DJ Abbot. Come on in and take a look around.”
“This is nice. I had no idea this place was back here.” Olive-toned skin and thick black hair contrasted nicely with a smile that would have looked right at home in a toothpaste ad. DJ stepped back to let the guy enter, and took a discreet peek at the high, rounded backside encased so attractively in denim painter’s pants.
Dimples.
He’d bet the next month’s rent that there were dimples on the sides of what looked to be a truly stellar ass.
“Makes ya wonder, huh?” DJ had a few more seconds to admire the view while Joe took a slow visual survey of the room. It didn’t take long, though, and DJ made sure there was a polite, disinterested look on his face when Joe turned back.
“Sure does. The bedrooms are upstairs?”
So caught up in ogling his prospective roommate’s butt, DJ just then noticed the visored black helmet that dangled from two tanned fingers. “You ride a bike?”
The eighteenth person to answer the ad DJ had placed in the university’s newspaper, Joe already rated well on a number of levels. Polite and well-mannered -- hell, he’d even shown up at the time they’d agreed on. After interviewing numbers one through seventeen, DJ could testify to exactly how rare each of those qualities was individually. But together? Off the scale. Virtually unknown.
“Yeah. I bought it thinking I’d save money on gas. Didn’t realize I’d more than make up for it in maintenance.”
There was that smile again. Nice. Friendly. Like he didn’t take anything too seriously, least of all himself.
“What kind?”
“Are you into bikes?”
Man liked his ride, that was for sure, the way his face lit up and his eyes sparkled, either that or … or DJ didn’t know what else. “Not really.”
“Don’t worry about it -- you’ve probably never heard of it, then. It’s a Buell Lightning. It’s okay. Not exactly a Ducati, but it’ll do for now.”
DJ tried to look thoughtful, like he knew what a Ducati was. “Why don’t you put your stuff down and I’ll show you the rest of the place?”