Chapter 2

Lightning flashed overhead and was followed quickly by a very large clap of thunder.

“Look, we’d better get out of here. You got any place to go?”

The kid bit his plump, sensual lip and shook his head. “Not really.”

Dave hesitated. He knew nothing about this young man. For all he knew he could be an axe murderer. He might regret this, but…“I don’t live far. Let’s get you dry and look at your injuries and maybe get you some food.”

The younger man assessed him for a moment and then nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Can you make it? Or do you want me to bring the truck over here?” Dave asked.

The kid took a step but wobbled.

“Stay here. I’ll be back.” Dave ran back to his truck, got in and started it, and drove across the parking lot to stop next to the kid, who opened the door and climbed in the passenger side. He leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes.

“What’s your name?” Dave asked.

“Kyle.”

“Kyle what?”

Kyle stared at Dave. His mouth curved up at the corners just a bit. “Just Kyle.”

Dave pulled out of the parking lot, switching on the windshield wipers. “Mine is Dave Johnson.”

“Thanks, Dave Johnson.”

Dave nodded and turned down the street that led to the block his house was on. He wasn’t kidding when he’d said he didn’t live far. His house was literally about two streets over from the bar. He’d chosen it for that very reason.

“So why were those guys beating the crap out of you? Were they friends of yours?”

“Did they seem like friends?”

“No. So, then?”

Kyle sighed and ran his long pale fingers through his wet black hair. “Could be one of two reasons, I guess. I’m Goth, and for some reason that annoys certain people.”

“And the other?”

“I’m gay. That seems to annoy guys like that even more.” Kyle shrugged. “Maybe it was some of each.”

Dave’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. Okay, so Kyle was gay. He was probably too young anyway, and Dave was supposed to be rescuing him from a bad situation. Not lusting after him. But, God, did he have to be gay? Because Dave’s cock had certainly perked up at the news.

“You a runaway?”

Kyle snorted. “Dude, how old do you think I am?”

Dave shrugged and pushed the button on his garage door opener. “Fifteen or sixteen?”

“No. I’m nineteen and three-quarters.”

Dave laughed. “Three-quarters?”

“Yep.”

Dave exhaled. Okay, so Kyle wasn’t jailbait. Which shouldn’t mean a damn thing, but tell that to his now fully erect cock. He was in big trouble. Kyle was probably some sort of hustler, and he sure as hell didn’t need to get involved in anything like that.

He parked the truck, careful not to bump the motorcycle already parked to the side, and closed the garage door behind them.

“How old are you?” Kyle asked, getting out of the truck.

“Twenty-seven.” Dave opened the door leading into the house. “I’ll get us some dry clothes. You want to take a shower?”

“That would be wicked cool.”

Dave guessed that was a “yes.” He went down the hall to the linen closet, took out a big fluffy bath towel, and tossed it at Kyle. “I’ll lay some clothes out for you while you shower.”

Kyle nodded. “Thanks, dude. I really owe you.” He disappeared into the bathroom.

* * * *

Dave bent over to peer into the refrigerator to see what he could feed his guest. He’d changed into sweats and a thin white muscle T-shirt, and he’d taken out his contacts and replaced them with his gold wire-framed glasses.

He had some leftover Chinese food he’d picked up a couple of days ago. He opened the little white package and sniffed. Smelled okay. He set the container on the counter and reached into the cabinet for two plates.

“Hey, cool glasses.”

Dave turned to see Kyle standing just inside the kitchen doorway. “Thanks.”

“Dude, don’t you have anything in black?”

Earlier when he’d brought him the clothes, Dave had resisted taking a peek while the young man showered. He hadn’t even glanced in the direction of the steamy shower glass. But now it was hard to keep his gaze off Kyle.

Kyle had pulled on the navy blue shorts and pumpkin orange T-shirt Dave had left in the bathroom. They were way too big for him and hung rather awkwardly on his slim body. And he had reapplied his eyeliner.

Damn, the man was just adorable. Not at all Dave’s usual type. If he had one. Did he? He didn’t know. Maybe guys like himself. Whatever. But not pretty boys with black eyeliner and pouty, kissable looks. He sure hoped his sweatpants hid his obvious erection. But damn, the kid was hot.