Choices and Changes Read online

  Dean sighed, taking the offered hand and pulling William into a one-armed hug. “As good as can be expected under the circumstances, as you say. They’ve been holed up in their room since we got back, though.”

  Someone cleared their throat from the doorway, which made Dean look up. Oh. My. God! he thought. The man standing at the door to the apartment was easily six foot three with dark blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a breathtaking smile. “Oh, sorry, guys. This is Adam, Beau’s doctor. Adam this is Tristan, Micah, Gabe and Kory.” William pointed to the four men sprawled out on the two couches. “And this is Dean; he’s Dusty’s dad. I hope it’s okay that I brought Adam over. He was at the bar having lunch with Beau when I got your call, Gabe, and Beau asked him to come over and look in on David.”

  “Oh, that’s nice, thank you, William,” Dean muttered.

  The man, Adam, came over to stand in front of him, extending his hand to Dean. “Nice to meet you, Dean. I’m Doctor Chase, but you can call me Adam.” His hand was warm, skin soft, smile inviting. But it was his fucking accent that snaked invisible fingers into Dean’s suddenly too-tight jeans and wrapped around his cock. And Lord help him, if the devious glint he saw staring back at him in those blue eyes was any indication, Doctor Chase was fully aware of his effect on Dean.

  Fuuuuuuuuck. Dean’s inner voice groaned. You are a grown-ass man. Get it together!

  “Hi,” Dean squeaked, flushing and clearing his throat. Let’s try that again, you fucking teenager! “Hi. Dean…I’m Dean, Dusty’s dad.” Yeah, we already established that, moron. Adam laughed softly, shooting Dean a half-assed grin. Awesome, even his laugh is sexy. “Sorry, I’m”—an idiot—”exhausted”—and horny—”they’re in the bedroom…still sleeping I think.” Dean managed to choke the words out, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the bedroom, he hoped.

  Crossing his arms over his impressive chest, Adam smiled, rocking back on his heels. “That’s okay, I don’t mind waiting.”

  “Where are my manners?” Dean brushed past Adam, walking into the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink Adam, William?”

  “I’ll take a beer if you have one.” William smiled, sitting down on one of the stools along the bar in the kitchen.

  “Of course. Adam?” Dean pulled the fridge open.

  “Same, thank you.” Adam sat on the stool beside William.

  Grabbing three beers, Dean walked over to where they sat, twisting the tops off and handing each of them a bottle. Adam’s gaze unnerved him, and he wasn’t sure why—perhaps because it was almost…predatory. “Your accent Adam, I can’t quite place it?” Dean asked, genuinely curious.

  “I was born in Pretoria, South Africa and lived there until I was eighteen,” he responded.

  Dean snapped his fingers, grinning. “Yes! I knew it was familiar. That actor, what’s his name?” Dean tapped his chin with his finger, trying to remember the name of the actor. It was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t quite pull it out. “He played the bad guy in Elysium with Matt Damon, damn, what is that guy’s name?”

  “Sharlto Copley.” Adam provided the elusive name.

  “That’s it.” Dean smiled and nodded his head, taking a long swig of his beer. Adam simply sat there watching him, unabashedly, and it was making Dean nervous. When Tristan called out to him, he all but ran the few scant feet between the kitchen and living room to see what he needed. The two of them continued to watch each other for the next hour, but Dean would blush and look away when Adam caught him staring.

  Micah leaned over and whispered to him, “You are an Easy-Bake Oven away from being a teenage girl right now, man.” Dean choked on his beer, sputtering and glaring at Micah. He was about to chastise his son’s friend when the bedroom door opened. Everyone froze and quieted. Dusty quietly pulled the door closed before walking into the bathroom. When he came out a few minutes later, Dean thought he was going to go right back into the bedroom, until his eyes took in the crowded living room.

  Standing in the hallway in nothing but a pair of ratty jeans, his hair sticking up at odd angles, Dusty looked at them like they each sported three heads. “The fuck? Did I miss my invitation to the party?” Yawning and scratching his head, Dusty ambled into the kitchen to grab a beer.

  Dean’s eyes followed his son from the fridge to the bar. He couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to the left where Adam still sat at the bar. When Adam winked and smirked at him, Dean smiled back. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about.” Micah bumped him with his shoulder.

  Dean’s gaze followed Dusty when he left the kitchen and went back into his bedroom. He stood and approached Adam, his thoughts now completely focused on Dusty and David. “Do you think we should wake David? It’s been hours since we got back from the hospital and he still hasn’t eaten anything. He’ll probably need a pain pill soon, too.”

  Before Adam could respond, the door opened again and both young men came out. David was very unsteady on his feet, most of his weight supported by Dusty who was all but carrying him to the bathroom. Dean went to the microwave and pulled out the sandwiches they’d saved. Squatting and reaching for the tray table under the sink, he set the sandwiches, a bag of chips, and two sodas on the tray, then carried it into the bedroom. Unsure how long the boys would be in the bathroom and not wanting to make David uncomfortable, he set the tray on the bed then went back to the kitchen and grabbed a beer.

  Twisting off the cap, he leaned against the cabinet and drained half the bottle with one long pull. Closing his eyes, he held the still-chilled bottle against his forehead and took a few deep breaths. Dean could hear footsteps drawing closer to him, and then a large, warm body was leaning against the counter beside him. Adam’s hand on his arm was unexpected but welcome. “Hey, it’ll be okay. You and your son both obviously care deeply for that young man.”

  “He needs to eat,” Dean said, still holding the cold bottle to his skin. The bottle was taken from him, his eyes slowly opening; he let his hand drop to his side and stared into deep blue eyes that watched him intently. Instinct, or maybe it was hormones, made Dean want to close the distance between them and kiss the man. But the bathroom door opened and Adam stepped away.

  He moved toward the door, but Adam reached for his arm, holding him back. “Let me go in first, see how David is.” He didn’t move, though. Adam stood there watching Dean until he nodded as if he were waiting for Dean’s approval. Adam spent about ten minutes in the room with them, and then Dean waited another five minutes before he went in with David’s pain meds and handed the bottle to Dusty, taking the tray back to the kitchen. Wrapping up what was left of David’s sandwich, Dean stuck it in the fridge and put the tray away. When he went back into the living room everyone was gone except for Adam.

  The insanely gorgeous man was sitting on the couch in the dimly lit room, and Dean was instantly intrigued and nervous. “What…where’d everyone go?”

  “Don’t know, home probably.” Adam shrugged, patting the couch. “Come sit with me. I waited so I could talk to you alone.” When Dean hesitated, Adam laughed. “I promise I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”

  Dean chuckled, not wanting to think about whether Adam was being serious or not, although he was quite certain he was. He sat sideways on the couch so he could face Adam, tucking one leg underneath him. “I’m…intrigued by you, Dean, and I’d like the opportunity to get to know you better.”

  “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” Dean agreed. When Adam held his hand out, Dean took it, looking down and watching Adam rub his thumb over his knuckles. He liked it. It was an intimate, personal gesture and yet, simple.

  When Adam spoke again he looked up and was somewhat mesmerized by the man’s eyes. “Were you with Dusty’s mom? What’s the situation there?”

  “Yeah, we were married—almost thirty years.” Dean sighed.

  Adam studied him for a moment before he spoke again. “I’m not reading you wrong here, am I, Dean? The attraction is mutual,
I hope.”

  “Very,” Dean blurted out before he thought about it, blushing and lowering his gaze.

  Adam laughed and the sound tickled Dean’s balls. “Good. Well, it’s late and I have to be at the office early tomorrow. I should be going.” They both stood.

  Dean moved toward the door, stopping when Adam’s hand landed on his shoulder. It was startling only because it was unexpected, Adam’s hand grazing his suddenly too-hot skin.

  Dean turned to face Adam, and the fact that he had to look up to meet his eyes was almost as thrilling as the man’s touch. “May I be so bold to ask if you’d have a drink with me tomorrow night?” Adam’s deep baritone wrapped around the accent he spoke with, brushing along Dean’s spine with invisible fingers, and Dean was thankful the only light in the room came from the kitchen. Otherwise, Adam definitely would have seen his skin flushed with arousal.

  “I’d like that very much, Adam.” This time when Adam leaned into him, there was no one to interrupt. The kiss was soft and sweet and by the time Dean blinked his eyes open, Adam was gone, the door closing behind him.

  ~ Chapter 4 | I Met Someone ~

  Dean was having the best wet dream of his life. Adam leaned over him; eyes blazing with want and need, he ground his cock against Dean’s hip. “I want to be inside you.” Adam growled, flipping Dean onto his stomach then kissing his shoulder, neck, his hot tongue trailing down Adam’s spine then into his crease…

  An alarm went off inside Dean’s head and Dream Adam disappeared. Groaning, he rolled over and blindly searched for his phone. As soon as it was in his hand, he pressed the button to stop the annoying ringing and brought the phone up to his ear. He intended to say hello, but all that came out was, “Lo?”

  “Well, good morning to you too, sunshine.”

  Dean sat straight up in bed. “Adam?”

  The chuckle that came across the line wasn’t as amusing at—Dean peeked at the clock—eight in the morning as it had been the night before.

  “You don’t sound happy to hear from me.”

  “It’s eight in the morning; unless something is on fire or someone is bleeding to death, why are you calling and waking me up?” Dean groaned into the phone.

  Adam’s sultry laugh was causing his still half-hard dick to sit up and take notice. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I wanted to firm up our plans for tonight.”

  Our plans aren’t the only thing firming up, Dean thought, rubbing his palm against his dick through the sheets, the friction making him hiss. “Dean, you okay?” Adam asked.

  “Yeah, just…not awake, too early,” he lied, biting his bottom lip to stop from moaning.

  “I’ll let you go then. I’ll be by to pick you up for dinner around six, sound good?” Adam asked.

  “Is fine,” Dean grumbled, disconnecting the call and tossing the phone onto the bedside table. He might still be half-asleep, but he didn’t miss Adam saying dinner instead of just drinks, and he was fine with that. Throwing the sheet back, he looked down the length of his long body, seeing his cock now fully hard and leaking, saluting him. What was it about Adam that had his body reacting like a hormonal teenager? he wondered. Wrapping his hand around his stiff prick, he slowly stroked himself, closing his eyes and remembering Adam’s intense gaze and soft smile. His lips were warm and firm when he kissed Dean, and it made him imagine what those lips would feel like wrapped around his dick.

  “Oh, fuck.” His grip tightening around his shaft, his strokes came faster, hips pistoning up and down as he fucked his fist over and over until his cock erupted and coated his stomach and the sheets with warm come. It took several minutes for him to catch his breath before he climbed out of bed and went to take a shower.

  Clean and dressed, Dean left his room in search of food, finding the apartment abnormally quiet. The coffeemaker was still on, the pot only half full. Dean poured a cup and read the note his son had left for him on the fridge.

  Dad,

  I’m off to work, will be home sometime this evening. I didn’t know what your plans were and I didn’t want to chance David being there alone, so I brought him with me. Will see you later unless you have plans so please call, text, or leave a note so I don’t worry.

  D

  Dean snorted, walking over to the trash can and dropping the piece of paper into it. He could read between the lines, and his son was anything but subtle. He was fishing; for what exactly, Dean couldn’t be sure. Pulling a bowl from the cabinet, he reached for the box of Honey Nut Cheerios from the top of the fridge, opening the door to grab the container of Almond Milk and then set it all out on the cabinet. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he ate his bowl of cereal, contemplating what he wanted to do with his day. Figuring out work was easy enough when you designed websites and created graphics; he could literally work from anywhere as long as his laptop was handy.

  Once he finished breakfast, rinsed the bowl, and placed it in the dishwasher, he topped off his cup of coffee and headed into the living room. His laptop was sitting on the coffee table where he’d left it the night before, so he opened it and booted it up. While he waited for the login screen, he reached for the remote, turning the TV to a local news channel and lowering the volume. It was part of his routine to sit at the large island in the kitchen while he worked on a design with NBC5i on the TV in the foreground. His brain would lock onto anything of importance and he could turn the volume up if necessary. Pulling his cell from his pocket to call Maggie, however, was different.

  She answered on the second ring. “Dean, honey, how are you? Enjoying the city?”

  Dean snorted. “Yeah, this place is hell in a handbasket one minute and slightly normal the next.” He proceeded to fill his soon-to-be ex-wife, his best friend of damn near thirty years, in on events that had taken place since he arrived in New York. This right here, talking to Maggie about anything and everything, filling her in on his day and vice versa, the easy banter and laughter they’d shared over the years, was what Dean would miss most about their broken marriage.

  Pregnant and hormonal, Maggie wept on the other end of the phone as Dean told her what had happened to David at school. “Oh my God, Dean, please tell me they caught the guy and he will be punished for what he did! Worthless bastard.” Disdain dripped from every syllable.

  “Oh yeah, not only did they get the fucker, Jon is the detective assigned to the case.”

  “Remind me, which one is Jon, again?” Maggie asked.

  “Kory’s boyfriend,” he replied.

  “Ah, yes, to be a fly on the wall.” She laughed. The sound was carefree, melodic, and it lifted a weight off Dean’s shoulders. Their family would be fine at the end of the day; there would simply be three more people included at Christmas dinner. Well, four actually, as soon as the baby was born.

  “So, Mags, I kind of…met someone…” Dean let the words trail off.

  She gasped. “Dean Anderson, you’ve been in New York less than a week, you little slut. Do tell. Is he handsome? I bet he’s handsome.”

  “Breathtaking, actually,” Dean paused; did he really just say that?

  Maggie laughed—no, cackled. “Oh my God, really? Come on now, Dean, give me more than that. Why is he so breathtaking?” She said the words wistfully, giggling.

  “Shut it, woman. Seriously Mags, his name is Adam; he’s a doctor. He’s tall and gorgeous, has blond hair, and these amazing, intense blue eyes. And get this—he’s from South Africa. His accent is amazing.” Dean took a breath, remembering the soft smile Adam gave him the previous night right before their lips met.

  “Amazing, got it. Now, details jackass, I need details. Tall and blond like Alexander Skarsgård? I know he’s the only reason you watched True Blood with me every week,” Maggie prodded. That was true. Dean had jacked off more than once with visions of the Swedish actor covered in blood with fangs dancing through his head.