Friday Night
By Liam Drake
()
About this ebook
Jack's been on the run all his life, always the submissive, always the man taking the fall, with no one solid to hold onto. But since his bad breakup with his ex, a werewolf with a penchant for cruelty and domination, things have been changing. The wolf in Jack wants out, and he isn't as yielding as the man.
Liam Drake
Liam Drake writes gay speculative fiction and romance with a heavy focus on horror. He is currently tapping away at the keyboard at all hours of the night, trying to keep up with his muse, Vincent.
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Friday Night - Liam Drake
Friday Night
Liam Drake
Published by Purple Sword Publications, LLC at Smashwords
www.purplesword.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
FRIDAY NIGHT
Copyright © 2010 LIAM DRAKE
ISBN 978-1-936165-62-9
Cover Art Designed By Anastasia Rabiyah
Edited By D. Thomas Jerlo
For Vincent.
Some secrets are best kept.
Chapter One: Monday
Why don't you like women?
Raul asked me, sounding amused. He had the most fantastic brown eyes, dark like a deadly night. I tried not to look there. He would know my soul if I did, and he was good at seeing into people. I could tell that about him right off. I wasn’t really sure I wanted anyone to see that far inside of me. Even I was afraid to look now, but there was something about this man that made me feel different, made me hope that I could belong to someone for keeps. I’d never had that, not even as a child.
The potted lavender on the patio kept my eyes busy instead. I stared there, at the tight little buds that hadn't finished blooming. That was me. I was that lavender, not quite ready to be plucked. Not tonight. It was only Monday after all, and I didn’t know him that well even though he was visiting me at the restaurant most days on his lunch break. This was the first time he visited for dinner.
I never said I didn't like women.
I searched the walk for anyone I might know…for the memory that haunted me. There were a lot of people out tonight. Raul and I were seated in the small patio of Over the Rainbow, a gay bar and grill in the heart of the city. It could have been any city, any bar, but there was no one like him. Not anywhere. I knew somehow that he was different, but I couldn’t quite place my finger on why.
You never said you liked them.
He set his warm hand on mine then, and I had to face him. He had a jagged scar down his left cheek, placed there by his stepfather when he was fourteen. One of many. He had told me that story. He'd snuck out. He had done that a lot as a teen—with good reason. That time he'd been caught and punished.
"Do you like them? I need to know." His squared face was handsome in a rugged way, the kind of face that had seen a lot of hard times but still fit well with a smile when things were going good.
I like them, but not the way you mean. You already know that, though.
I offered him a sideways grin. I don’t know what he was playing at.
Good.
He smiled at me, a raw, sexy Latino grin that showed me what he desired. He wanted me, in the bed, out of the bed, against a wall. He wanted intimacy as well as sex, and I'd been avoiding all that. It was easier. Getting too attached was dangerous. Letting him know who and what I really was? Out of the question.
We met in group counseling. A support group. I'd been in a really bad relationship with Pedro my last ex, but he hadn’t been the first. It went back to bad foster parents. Me being in the wrong place at the wrong time—too many times to count. Some people just get the raw end of the deal. I did. Especially with Pedro.
Things went too far one night, and I left him. Snuck out of the house he'd inherited from his doctor daddy, left all my belongings there except my truck. I did that so he might think I was coming back. I bet he thought that at first.
That one night he lost control changed the course of my life forever. In so many ways it was too late for me.
It was easy enough to sell my truck to some guy that wanted to take it across the border to Mexico and