Twenty year old Corey Evans is one-half of 2ICE, the biggest duo on the radio at the moment. Pronounced twice, they're number one on the Billboard charts this week with their latest single. And number one in download sales, with two albums that have already gone platinum, to hear their manager tell it. And currently on their second U.S. tour, which has sold out stadiums across the nation. Despite this, there's an emptiness inside him which Corey can't seem to fill, no matter how many groupies he takes to his bed. He sees this same emptiness mirrored in the eyes of his band-mate, Ian Coltraine, who drowns his evenings after each show with a bottle of whiskey. Ian's the one Corey turns to when he wakes beside an unknown fan, still asleep in his bed and needs help evicting her. He's Corey best friend, the only person on the tour he can confide in, who he really trusts ... The one, Corey finally realizes, with whom he is madly, deeply, terribly in love. And he suspects Ian might feel the same. But his recent string of one-night stands makes Ian cautious about Corey's true feelings. He's wanted Corey for so long, and has watched him go through countless fans in search of ... what? Ian doesn't know. And he doesn't yet believe Corey when he says Ian might be it. Ian hopes so, but can't bring himself to believe Corey's fickle desire won't be gone in the morning. Can these two young men somehow move beyond Corey's past and Ian's pain to embrace a love they both so desperately desire?

Beautiful Disaster

Ian quieted him with a kiss. Corey raised one leg, propping his foot up on the sink behind his friend, and pressed his hips into Ian. The hand at his crotch squeezed and kneaded and stroked; Corey forgot everything else but that touch. Adventurous fingers eased lower, cupping his balls in one cool palm before tickling farther, maddening in their exploration. He wasn’t used to this—someone pleasing him, eager to make this worth hiswhile, wanting him to be happy.


Through the front of Ian’s jeans, Corey felt the hardness there and knew he wasn’t alone in his hunger. “Ian,” he breathed as his friend kissed his way down the curve of his throat. He sighed as hot lips closed over one nipple, dampening the thickness of his sweater, teeth nipping at the tender bud. “Jesus, Ian, pleasedon’t stop, please oh please oh please.”


Chapter 34