Chapter Two

Rand was on the phone with a towel wrapped around his waist when Frank walked into the kitchen. "Okay, Mom, brunch tomorrow at noon it is. See you then."

Frank’s base desires kicked in like they always did when looking at Rand. Hard to reconcile in his mind were the other emotions melding with those carnal stirrings. Eight years shy of forty, and with a half-dozen casual affairs behind him, Frank knew what he didn’t want in life—more of the same. He wanted to settle down, be with someone who wanted to be with him, long term. The eight-year disparity in their ages bothered Frank, as did the fact that Rand was his ex-partner’s son.

Lying in a cold grave for the last decade, Quinn Brennan couldn’t sanction or reject the relationship. Yet, Rand’s mother, Emily, had assured Frank on numerous occasions Quinn wished for one thing only . . . Marlow and Rand’s happiness. “Rand is what he is, Frank,” she’d said. “Just as you are what you are. Quinn and I agreed to accept and love our children above all else, no matter what.”

Rand pushed his fingers through his damp hair and laughed; no doubt at some off-color joke from his mother. Frank loved his laugh, his voice and hell, everything else about him. His cock twitched and grew hard, so fast it left him breathless. He fought against the jolt of lust curdling his blood. He needed Rand. And dear God, he wanted him, naked and wrapped around his body.

Rand punched a button on his cell and turned to him, his eyes hazed over with desire. "Hi Frank," he said, trying hard to mask his own hunger as Frank walked to the liquor cabinet. "Rough day at work?"

Frank nodded. "That apparent, huh?"

"You’re heading for the Jack Daniels with briefcase in hand. Sure give-away."

He tossed the black leather case on the sofa, opened the door to the liquor cabinet and grabbed the whiskey. After topping off a short glass, he joined the briefcase on the sofa and downed the whiskey. "I can’t think of a better way to start my weekend."

Rand slow-walked toward him, his moss-green eyes sparkling like jack pines under a harsh sun. "I can." He dropped to his knees in front of the sofa.

Leaning forward, Rand’s sensually curved lips descended and met his. Frank’s mind-blowing reaction stunned him. The room swirled and his blood turned to liquid fire. Rand’s probing tongue sought the depths of his mouth and his hand worked the zipper of Frank’s trousers. He pulled the hardened shaft free, slid his hand along the throbbing length and then pinched the sensitive head. An involuntary moan found Frank.

"See," Rand said into his open mouth. Running his tongue over Franks bottom lip, he drew him into that endless chasm he craved. "Tell me you can think of a better way to start your weekend."

Amid the giddy wave of dizziness, Frank’s libido kicked into high alert. He wanted Rand in every way, more than anything he’d ever wanted. He must have come down with some type of disease to be thinking along the lines of permanent . . . commitment. He’d agree to anything Rand wanted, say anything asked of him to feel his cock throbbing inside that hot, tight ass right now.

Winding his fingers in his long hair Frank said, "Ditch the towel." He didn’t withdraw his hand until Rand loosened the wrap with a flick of his wrist and tossed it onto the floor. Only then did their mutual gaze break for a timeless moment. Frank felt his cock weep as he turned Rand toward the coffee table until a view of his naked back rose before him. "Lean against it with your arms bearing your weight, palms down."

Rand complied and Frank drank in the view, not touching him, but rather savoring the hard, lean lines of his body—the muscled biceps, broad shoulders and narrow waist. Christ, had he died and gone to heaven? His shitty day had just taken a dramatic turn and could quite possibly be the best of his entire month. Frank kicked Rand’s feet out until his legs were spread wide and then he slid a hand over one cheek of his ass.

A shudder rippled through Rand and his body tensed. Frank reached around with his free hand and found his cock, aware of the rise and fall of his ragged breath when he stroked it. Like his own shaft, Rand’s throbbed and precum moistened the tip. Frank spread the liquid around with his fingers and squeezed the damp slit. Whimpers of need fell from Rand’s mouth—the sound driving Frank over the edge—and his perfect bottom pushed back against Frank’s thighs.

The hand cupping his ass slid to the cleft between his cheeks and Frank ran his fingers between it, finding his hole. Gradually, he slid a finger inside.

Rand cried out and bucked forward, "Oh, God."

"Want me to stop?" Frank asked.

"More," he gasped.

Unable to pull his eyes from the erotic sight, Frank pulled his finger out, slipped two in, probing and pushing amid a string of panted breaths from Rand. He repressed his own shiver and tried to concentrate on insignificant musings. If he didn’t pace himself, the whole shebang would be over in a heartbeat, the last thing he wanted.

Rand’s insides twitched against his fingers and his hips thrust backward to meet the assault. Frank couldn’t take anymore. He removed his hand from Rand’s hot shaft with his normal, unshakable control threatening to defeat him. Lust simmered in his veins and semen ran from his tip and glistened down the length of his erection. Frank watched the taught muscles of Rand’s forearms quiver as he positioned the tip of his cock at his entrance and exalted in Rand’s potent trembling of raw hunger.

"This what you want, pretty boy?"

"Yes, oh, God, yes."

Frank entered him slowly, burying the head an inch or two at most. An animalistic groan spewed from Rand’s throat, and only when the tight muscles of his insides relaxed to adjust to the width of him, did Frank begin to move.

Rand thrashed and a deep, guttural groan that originated in his belly escaped when Frank pushed in and buried his cock to the hilt. When Rand’s arms collapsed and his face fell to the table, Frank grabbed his hips with both hands, retreated again and drove in hard and fast. Rand cried out, and a haze of pleasure unlike any Frank had ever known spread outward through every limb—an all-consuming fire that stripped his soul bare.

Rand undulated beneath him, his sleek, black hair glistening in ribbons of muted amber beneath the lamp next to the couch. His body spasmed and Frank knew his release grew imminent.

"Don’t stop, not now, harder, faster."

Frank’s balls tightened and hot liquid rushed to the top of his cock. He couldn’t think, aware only of the beautiful man beneath him and his throbbing member moving inside him.

Hovering at the pinnacle of insanity, Frank reveled in the sound of another bestial groan from Rand. His hands were rough on the feverish skin of Rand’s hips as he yanked him back hard and slammed into him with one final thrust.

Frank’s cry echoed in the room as the orgasm tore through him in unending waves of blissful release, the power and intensity all but blinding him. He collapsed against Rand’s sweat-soaked body, aware of his own groan from somewhere deep inside his gut.

Long minutes later, and after his breathing had returned to normal, Frank whispered into Rand’s ear. "How’s that for starting out our weekend?"

"Christ. Tell me I didn’t just die and go to heaven. If so, reincarnate me, will you?"

Frank laughed, lifted himself off that perfect body and zipped up his pants. "Your skin is too hot for you to be dead."

Rand twisted around and rose on wobbly limbs.

"Are you okay?"

Rand nodded and answered with a smile. "More than okay, but I need another shower now."

Frank grabbed the bottle of whiskey and poured a double shot into the glass. "Go ahead, and then we need to talk."

Rand’s eyes narrowed. "Sounds serious."

"No, nothing too serious." He flapped a wrist in the air. "I need to go out of town for a while and just wanted you to know."

"Oh-oh; out of town always means serious." He plucked the towel from the floor and wrapped it around his waist. "The shower can wait." Rand slumped into a nearby chair. "So, tell me. What’s up?"

Frank shivered. The room had grown cool, almost cold. The words wafted around him, the tiny voice stopping his heart for a beat or two. Shut your eyes of blue. Bringing dreams to you.

Rand’s voice came to him through a tunnel. "Frank, you all right? Frank . . ."

He placed his fingers to his temples and rubbed. "Yeah, fine, I think." He scanned the room, acutely aware of the drop in temperature. "Do you hear anything?"

"Hear anything? Nothing except a dog barking outside, but it sure got cold in here all of a sudden. Maybe the thermostat is on the blink."

Bringing dreams to you . . . bringing dreams to you.

"Frank, what the fuck? You’re as white as cotton and a million miles away."

Frank shook his head. Great, now he was hearing voices—a voice no one else could hear. He should have known the sweet little thing wouldn’t stay with Rueben for long. Whatever her problem, Rueben couldn’t help her. "You do feel the cold though?"

"Fuck, yeah. Even an Eskimo would notice the arctic blast that just entered the room. What do you think it is?"

"You don’t want to know."

Rand gave him a dismal frown. "Why do you do that, Frank, shut me out all the time?"

"It has nothing to do with you."

"Well thanks for making me feel like I share a big part of your life. Let’s see, it has to do with me when you want to fuck me, but when it comes to other aspects of your life, it has nothing to do with me."

"I didn’t mean it like that."

"Yes, you did and you do it all the time." Rand slapped a hand to his forehead. "Does this have something to do with you suddenly going out of town, and does it have to do with those weird dreams and visions you have?" He looked around the room. "Jesus, not only is it cold, but the eerie vibes I’m getting are freaking me out."

"From me?"

"That too, but vibes in the room, like eerie as hell. Tell me, Frank, what’s going on? Why did the room—?"

"A ghost is here with us.”

Rand’s neck rotated left to right and his eyes widened. He looked over at Frank. "You’re serious? I’d laugh, but . . .."

"But what?"

"I can feel it, feel something other than the cold air."

"Not an it."

"No? What then?"

"A child. A female."

Rand tipped his chin down. "You gotta be shitting me."

Frank shook his head.

"A ghost is in the condo, and it’s a young girl?"

"Yep."

"But how, why?"

"I think I called her forth. I didn’t mean to, but during one of my sessions, she just walked forward and kept on coming.”

“You’re dead serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and she’s singing right now. Please tell me you can hear her."

"The only thing I hear are the crazy words coming outta your mouth, and you’re freaking me out." Rand paused, leaned forward and met his eyes. "All right, I’ll bite. What is she singing?"

"I can’t make out all the words, but something about the sandman, blue, and, damn it’s right there, but . . .."

"Well fucking great.” Rand shook his head. “You called a ghost forth. I told you dabbling in perceptions or whatever the hell you call them, would one day get you in trouble." Rand looked toward the ceiling. "This child ghost, she’s not like the sister of Chuckie or anything, is she?"

"No, she’s a gentle ghost, although a restless spirit. She’s not here to harm anyone, but I think she wants to help someone . . . something."

Rand rose. "That does it. I’m jumping into the shower before I turn into an icicle, and I hope when I come back, you’ll have talked her into paying rent if she plans to stay."

"Ha-ha-ha. Very funny. Anyway, she’s gone now."

"Already? How do you know?"

"The singing stopped and it’s getting warm in here."

Rand shook his head, walked toward the hallway and turned to him. "Stay off the Jack Daniels while I’m gone. I have visions of getting out of the shower only to find you holding a full-blown séance in here."

"You should have been a stand-up comedian, Rand, instead of going into Pre-med.”

“Now, why didn’t I think of that?” Rand walked into the hallway and returned a heartbeat later. “We’ll talk about your trip when I’m done showering, all right?”

“Yeah, fine. We still have the weekend, but I leave on Monday."

"Cool, take the fucking ghost with you."