He could work miracles with His Hands
Lance Bartner loved working with his hands, made his living refinishing furniture. Nights out were for fun with friends and the occasional hook-up. Though the L word had never been spoken, he would have enjoyed a relationship had the right man crossed his path. But who would want a laborer like Lance? He wasn’t college educated, didn’t live in a fancy loft condo, didn’t drive a Lexus, and didn’t even own a suit.
Forrest Dentren, was an architect and city planner who had become a local name when his design for the Monroe City Center was chosen as one of the top three contenders. Well educated, extremely well built, and as both men and women put it, just plain hot. Some said he was married to his job, others said he was too picky, many said he didn’t want to share the spotlight.
One hot, uninhibited sex-filled night
When Forrest broke his routine and went clubbing on a weeknight, he spotted Lance. The attraction was immediate from both sides of the dance floor. They both felt it. A few drinks later, still feeling it, they left for Lance’s apartment.
It was never supposed to turn into anything more than one hot fuck
Two people from opposite ends of the world, no roadmap, not directions, no ideas how to make it work.
Architect Of Love is a hot and steamy, gay romance novel with no cliffhangers. It is the second book in The Fated Soulmates series and can be read as a standalone.
“This is a steamy and yet also endearingly sweet romance. For a sexy good time, characters to love, and a good combination of sweet and spicy, this gets 8/10 fountain pens.” – A. M. Leibowitz
“This was a good book about how being insecure can destroy what may be the best things in your life.” – Gay Book Reviews
“Its a fun read, a good story, realistic with characters I could get behind, and a sensible mix of story v sex. Stars: Four, a great read with realistic storyline.” – Jeannie Zelos book reviews
“If you like sexy architects, hot craftsmen, fated love, second chance, not a lot of sex but just enough to heat up a story and an all around good, sweet romance this is for you.” – Cathy Brockton
The tall blond kicked the door closed with his foot as he pinned the shorter, more muscular man against the wall. One hand held the shorter man’s hands above his head, the other a handful of his shirt.
“Lance is a pretty name for such a muscular guy. Why’d your mother name you that?” His face was mere inches from Lance’s. They breathed the same air as they stared into the other man’s eyes.
“She has a thing for different names. Don’t ask me why, she just does.” Lance was almost hyperventilating; his brown eyes were wide with curious anticipation, the pupils dilated. “I might ask what was in your mother’s mind when she named you Forrest. Were you conceived in the woods?”
A growl emitted from the tall blond. He pushed Lance harder against the wall, his entire body now firmly against the shorter man. “Never asked where they fucked and don’t want to know, but the name works for me. Does Lance suit you? Are you?”
“That’s a rather personal question, don’t you think? After all, we just met.” Lance struggled to keep his body under control. He could feel the heat emanating from Forrest, his breath smelled of Scotch, his muscles were taught as a lion’s ready to pounce. His groin pressed just above Lance’s and it was hard with desire as was his own.
They held eye contact for a long minute then Forrest moved his head, slowly as if testing the space between them. Lance followed his full lips as they neared his own. They were heavy with lust, slightly open, tongue barely visible. When they touched his, he felt a tingle down to his toes. He moaned.
Forrest held Lance in place, as he tasted the shorter man. Beer mingled with breath mint met his tongue as he pushed to gain control. He heard Lance’s moan and continued to push for more. His body was ready to burst. He felt Lance’s heat against his and knew the man wanted what he presented.
Suddenly as if on attack, Lance twisted in the taller man’s arms. He forced Forrest around and pressed him against the wall where his back had lain seconds prior. “How does it feel now?” he whispered unable to voice anything louder. “You want more? Can you handle it or are the trees too big, Forrest?”
Forrest could feel Lance’s long, calloused fingers holding his wrists. Short, muscular legs stood outside his encasing him. The hand pushing against his chest caused his heartbeat to sound and feel harder and louder. It was his turn to hyperventilate. “I can take anything you throw at me. Care to try something else or is this all you’ve got?”
Lance pulled Forrest from the wall keeping a tight grip on his wrists. He walked his captive backward to the couch at the far end of the small room. With a push, Forrest was lying on his back, Lance straddling him. For the first time, Forrest took in his surroundings. They were in a small, tidy apartment. The furniture looked old as if from garage sales or thrift stores. Though old, the couch felt soft and comfortable. A bookcase held a small TV and several hardcover books, the titles he couldn’t make out from where he lay. Warm, comfortable, masculine were his thoughts, thoughts that were interrupted as Lance sensuously moved his ass along Forrest’s throbbing erection. Lance’s actions brought a whimper of pain and pleasure from his lips.
Lance sat on Forrest wondering just how far he could go with this hot man who picked him out of all the other guys at The Hole, a club on the gay strip in the south end. He frequented the area. The clubs provided an easy way for him to satisfy his fantasies without too much involvement. He had been the one to pick up others most nights.
Tonight, though, he sat with two friends, no one interested him. Then this hot man, clearly out of Lance’s normal league, asked if he wanted a refill. That refill was not finished as they readily agreed to take the night further. A quick cab ride brought them to Lance’s apartment.
Slowly with a little uncertainty, he unbuttoned Forrest’s shirt revealing a solid hairless chest. “Mmm, smooth, just how I like my men,” he said as he pulled the shirt from Forrest’s too tight pants. Forrest lifted his butt as Lance pulled the shirt from his body and threw it to the side chair.
Forrest reached up and pulled Lance’s shirt over his head throwing it on top of his own. He ran his fingers threw the nest of dark hair on the smaller man’s powerful chest. Grabbing a handful, he pulled Lance down for a passionate kiss, one that had both men moaning into each other’s mouths.
Lust raged in both men. Lance moved down Forrest’s body rubbing his ass along his groin as he did. He unbuttoned his jeans, pulled the zipper down revealing what he thought – Forrest was commando, erect, and already dripping with lust. He lifted Forrest up enough to pull his pants to his thighs, then undid his own and threw them onto the growing pile of clothes.
When Forrest reached for Lance’s hardness, he was met with a calloused hand stopping him. “No, let me take care of both of us.” Lance moved up slightly, enough to put his cock against the one standing tall in front of him. Taking both into his rough hands, he used the wetness to slide up and down in a sensuous motion designed to cause both men to hurt with pleasure.
He leaned down, keeping his hands moving ever so slowly, and kissed those hot lips again. When he felt Forrest grab his ass, Lance moaned, spread his legs encouraging exploration. They were gasping for breath when Forrest shouted, “Oh Fuck,” and came so hard his body spasmed. Lance followed seconds later. He laid his head on Forrest’s chest trying to get control of his breathing and listening to the man below him gasping for air.
The cab ride to his apartment had Forrest dwelling on the man who took his breath away. Not his normal type, Lance was shorter, more muscular, had dark hair contrasting Forrest’s blond hair and emerald green eyes. He was clearly a man who worked with his hands, not a professional, but could hold his own. Their conversations were interesting, intelligent, and broad in scope. Forrest had learned to stay away from politics and religion. He was pleased that Lance didn’t broach those topics either.
Forrest had a busy life, busy work schedule, and firm rules about living that life. He didn’t go out on work nights. He didn’t break his rules. He was tired and would pay for his indulgences in the morning.
Lance didn’t fit his type. Normally Forrest went for the younger twinks. Muscles were not usually a turn on for him, but damn if this guy broke that rule, too. He allowed himself to close his eyes for a minute seeing the broad shoulders of the man pinning him down on the couch. Though shorter, Lance was clearly stronger. He wondered just how far this one nighter might have gone if it were not a work night.
His dreams were interrupted by the cabbie announcing they were at his destination. He paid, gave the man a good tip and made his way into the three-story building. He took the stairs two at a time and entered his own apartment. Keys, wallet, loose change was thrust into the blue glass bowl near the door. Shoes removed, Forrest wiggled his toes in the thick white carpet beneath his feet.
What a night, he thought as he made his way to the master bedroom. A hot shower was in order. The water flowed over his tall solid body. Eyes closed, head under the spray, he tried to clear his mind. Water ran down his back, between his ass cheeks, and along his sculpted thighs. His body was the result of years of healthy eating and hard work at the gym. His mind refused to settle down even as his muscles did. The image of Lance against the wall, eyes wide with anticipation, heart beating fast, his hardness pressing into his leg, those lips as they kissed filled his mind.
Enough! He quickly finished washing, dried his smooth body, and settled into his bed, naked and hard again. Get some sleep Forrest; you have a busy week ahead of you. Never breaking this rule again!
Larry Thomas aka John Charles spent his youth struggling with reading. Not until his late teens did he discover the cause – dyslexia. Only then, with guidance and professional help, did he learn to read. From that point forward, he discovered his love for the printed word.
Ironically, as a father reading to his children his desire to write was born. Reading to his children was a nightly ritual. “I wanted them to fall in love with books.”
Writing was always part of his professional career, but not until he retired did he move from creating marketing and technical materials to writing novels. Now, as a full-time author, Larry writes Romance / Mystery / Thrillers using the pseudonym John Charles.
His books can be found on Amazon and wherever e-books are sold.