Prologue Tracy

February

It was one of those nights, the kind where lust overrode my higher brain functions, and all I could think about was sex.

This was always problematic, because I sucked at flirting, or even making conversation. Actually, I wasn't good with people in general. They were messy and unpredictable, and I tried to avoid them as much as possible.

But every so often, I needed to get skin-to-skin with someone. I started craving it. What began as a whisper in the back of my mind grew louder and louder, until I finally had to give in and find someone—just for a night. That was all it took to silence that voice, at least for a while.

It was screaming at me tonight, so with a sigh, I rolled over in bed and reached for my phone. I'd signed up for yet another gay hookup app a few days ago, because I knew I'd need it soon. When I logged on, I found I had several messages. All of them were variations of the same theme—cute little twinks in their twenties, who wrote: Hey daddy, come over and fuck me .

I hated being called daddy, but apparently this was my lot in life now, at thirty-six. Should I have lied about my age? Nah, it probably wouldn't make a difference.

Even in my twenties, I'd attracted men who took one look at me and made assumptions. I was a huge guy, six-foot-six with a muscular build. That had to mean I was your typical alpha male, a top who liked to be in charge. Honestly, most of the time I was fine with taking on that role. I definitely preferred calling the shots, because that way there were no surprises.

But I'd always fantasized about handing over control to another man, and letting him pin me to a mattress and absolutely pound me. In reality, I'd never bottomed. Not once in my life. It took more trust than I was capable of, and it would have made me feel way too vulnerable.

Fortunately, there were other ways to satisfy that need, like kneeling in front of a random stranger and sucking his cock. That was something I could let myself do, and exactly what I wanted tonight.

I exited out of my messages and opened a chat window, which listed local men who were currently online. Even though it was almost two a.m., I had a lot to choose from.

The first few names all turned out to be bottoms seeking tops. When I clicked one further down the list and his picture popped up, my jaw dropped. He'd posted the same thing I had—a shot of his shirtless, muscular body—and it was utter perfection.

His screen name was fairly generic—GymDude24752. But then, mine was SFguy4U36, so neither of us were going to score points for creativity. I clicked on his name and brought up his profile, which told me he'd signed up for the app the day before. All his bio said was: In San Francisco for the weekend, HMU.

He hadn't even bothered to write out "hit me up." Although, with that body, he didn't need to make much effort. He probably had people throwing themselves at him everywhere he went.

I scrolled down to his stats, which were only half filled out. They told me he was thirty-eight and single with brown hair and blue eyes. Also, he was six-foot-seven. Fuck yes . He was actually taller than me—by only an inch, but still. That was incredibly rare.

He sounded too good to be true. It was probably a catfish who'd found that photo online. But if there was even a five percent chance I might end up kneeling in front of this dream man tonight, I was willing to roll the dice.

I actually felt nervous as I sat up and clicked on the chat icon. When the message box popped up, I wrote: Hey. What are you looking for on here?

After I sent the message, I sighed. I had no game whatsoever. None.

A reply popped up moments later. He'd written, You, maybe, followed by a smiley face. Right away, he came across as flirty and playful. I should take notes. Another message appeared: I like your photo.

I sent back, I like yours, too. That was putting it mildly. It made me want to lick my phone screen. I almost told him that, but I was worried it would come across as weird and pervy instead of funny.

His next message said: In your profile, it says you're a top. Just to be up front, I'm not into bottoming.

I wrote: That's totally fine. I just want to suck cock tonight. That message made me cringe. Normally, I'd never be that blunt with someone I'd known for less than two minutes. But I reminded myself I was on a hookup site and hit send.

I can give you so much more than that. Come to my hotel room and let me take care of you, baby.

That did something to me, but I was being ridiculous. He wasn't literally going to take care of me. He probably just meant he'd make me come.

While I was contemplating that, another message appeared on my screen. Still there?

I sent back: Yeah, but calling me baby is a bit much.

I didn't hate it, but I felt like I should.

Sorry about that. I didn't know what else to call you. I'm big on anonymity when it comes to these sites, so if I'm not willing to give you my name, I don't expect yours, either.

You could always give me a fake name. I curled up on my side and watched my screen.

He wrote: True enough. So, hi, I'm ‘Sven.' What's your fake name?

I grinned at that and sent back: Hi, Sven. My name is David. That was actually true, but I went by Tracy, which was my middle name.

It's a pleasure to meet you, David, he wrote. His next message said: Can I call you?

I raised a brow and sent back: Why?

I'd just like to hear your voice. You can block my number afterwards if you're worried that I'm a weirdo or something.

I mulled that over for a few moments. Then I typed in my number and hit send. I was probably going to end up regretting that.

When my phone rang, I took a deep breath and answered with, "Hi, Sven."

"Hi, David. Thanks for humoring me." He had a sexy voice. It was deep and smooth, and I could hear his smile in it.

"Not a problem."

"So, what are the chances I can entice you to come visit me tonight?"

I felt shy now that we were talking, so I said, "I think I need to stay in bed, so you shouldn't waste a lot of time on me. But there are a hundred men on that app who'll be more than happy to show you our famous San Francisco hospitality while you're in town."

"I'm enjoying talking to you, so it's not a waste of time." I heard him shift his phone, and then he said, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable by calling you baby. That wasn't my intention."

"Don't apologize. I liked it."

"No, you didn't."

"I did, and that was the problem," I muttered. "I liked it too much."

"I don't understand."

"I know. I'm not making sense."

He asked, "Will you answer a question for me?"

"Depends on what it is."

"If you could live out a fantasy with me tonight with absolutely no judgement, no strings attached, and no repercussions, what would it be? I want to know what turns you on."

Why not be honest? This person was a stranger, and I didn't really care what he thought of me. Even so, I hesitated before saying, "In my fantasy, I want you to take control, from the moment I walk in the door." Why was that so difficult for me to admit? "Make me kneel at your feet and worship your cock. Use me for your pleasure."

I heard his breath catch, and my cock started to throb as he asked, "Then what?"

"Pin me face-down on the bed." I shut my eyes and pictured the scenario playing out. "Grab a fistful of my hair and fuck my virgin ass."

"How rough do you want it?"

"Don't hold back. I want to ache for days afterward."

"Maybe I should spank your ass before I bury my cock in it."

"Mmm." I rubbed my hard-on through the fabric of my pajama pants and let myself get lost in the fantasy.

"Imagine my weight on top of you, holding you down while my thick cock stretches your tight little hole."

"Fuck, yes."

His voice was slightly breathless, which told me he was as turned on as I was. "I'll ruin you for all other men and turn you into my perfect little fuck toy."

I whispered, "Oh shit," and gave my cock a hard squeeze.

"Come over, David. My hotel is in Pacific Heights. According to that app, you're in the same part of town."

My eyes popped open, and I sat up and let go of my erection. "That's just a fantasy. I don't want you to fuck me." I'd never let anyone do that. It might be my biggest fantasy, but it was also my hardest limit.

"I totally respect that, and I'd never push," he said. "We could still spend all night making each other feel incredible, with the very clear understanding that anal isn't an option."

I hesitated before asking, "What would we do? I mean, how would it play out?"

"That's totally up to you. Would you want me to take control?"

"Yes." I wanted that desperately. I wanted him . It wasn't just that I was horny. I was lonely too, achingly so, and his touch would feel so good. I found myself asking, "Where are you staying?"

"The Palm Pacific, room three twenty-three. The lobby door is locked after hours, but the code is 44-12. Take the elevator to the third floor. If you forget any of that, call me and I'll come downstairs and let you in."

The word slipped from me in a whisper. "Okay."

"You're really coming?"

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Awesome! See you soon."

As soon as the call ended, I leapt out of bed and took a deep breath. Before I could overthink and talk myself out of it, I traded my pajama pants and sleep tee for a clean T-shirt and jeans, stuck my feet into a pair of sneakers, and put on my gray zippered hoodie. Then I shoved my phone and keys into my pockets and hurried to the bathroom.

After I used some mouthwash, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. I'd certainly looked better. My brown eyes were slightly bloodshot, I was sporting two days' worth of razor stubble, and my slightly overgrown dark hair was tamped down on one side and sticking up on the other. At least the last thing was a quick fix. I got my hands wet and ran my fingers through my hair before muttering, "Close enough."

I practically ran down the hall and through the living room on my way to the front door. Thank god my friend and landlord Roger was currently visiting a guy he had a crush on in the UK. If he'd heard me dashing out of the apartment at two-thirty in the morning, he would have teased me mercilessly about being this thirsty. I was, for sure. But also, I didn't want to lose my momentum.

It took all of five minutes to rush from my apartment building to the hotel. When I punched in the code on the keypad, the lock clicked. I pushed the door open, hurried across the empty lobby, and hit the elevator button. Then I hit it six more times for good measure.

Why was I so nervous?

It was hardly my first anonymous hookup, but this one felt different. Maybe that was because I'd admitted some things to him that I usually kept private. I'd made myself vulnerable, which should have stopped me in my tracks. But right now, my libido was firmly in control and propelling me forward.

As I boarded the elevator, another thought occurred to me. What if this guy really was a catfish? I'd wondered if that photo was too good to be true. But now, I decided I didn't care. No matter what he looked like, I wanted him.

When he answered my knock, I muttered, "Holy shit."

He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. He had a face like a movie star, framed by a stylish haircut and a short, perfectly trimmed beard. And his body, damn . That had definitely been his photo, and it hadn't even done him justice. He was every inch of six-foot-seven as advertised, and his muscles were on full display in a tank top and gym shorts.

Somehow, this Greek god was staring at me in awe, and he muttered, "Fuck, you're gorgeous." Both of us spent a moment frozen in place, caught in each other's spell. Then he grabbed the front of my hoodie and hauled me over the threshold.

The door swung shut as he pushed me up against the wall. I felt a split-second of panic, but when he kissed me, I melted into him. It was everything I'd needed.

He pinned me there with his hands pressed to my chest, and I smiled against his lips. When he ground against me, I discovered he was as hard as I was. I felt like I was drunk on him, dizzy and buzzed and fucking giddy . I almost laughed at that word, but he nipped my earlobe and I moaned instead.

He whispered in my ear, "Tell me what you want."

"I need to suck your cock." It really was a need at that point.

"That's an excellent idea."

He grabbed my hand and led me to a seating area, where he dropped onto the couch and used his bare foot to push back the wooden coffee table. As soon as he parted his legs, I fell to my knees. I was so charged with anticipation that my hands were shaking as I untied the drawstring and pulled down the front of his shorts. It turned out his hard cock was in perfect proportion to the rest of him, big and thick.

I started sucking him like my life depended on it. My own hard-on was straining against my jeans, but I ignored it. All I wanted was to make him feel wonderful, and for a while, I seemed to be succeeding. When I glanced up at him, his head was thrown back, and he looked like he was in total ecstasy. I loved that. I shut my eyes and redoubled my efforts.

Then everything completely went to hell.

It started when he sneezed.

It wasn't a dainty little sneeze. Oh, no. It was more like a yell, and it startled the shit out of me.

That set off a chain reaction.

First, my jaw started to clamp shut. When my teeth came in contact with the most sensitive part of his body, he yelped and doubled over. I immediately released his cock and sat up, but in the process I managed to head-butt him in the face. He swore vividly, and we both leapt to our feet at the same time.

Two huge guys couldn't occupy the same space simultaneously, so he ended up knocking me backwards. On the way down, I tried to reach for something to steady myself and ended up grabbing ahold of his tank top. In the next instant, I crashed down on top of the coffee table, which flattened underneath me like a house of cards.

When I looked up at him, he was naked. I didn't know why at first, but then I realized his ruined shirt was clutched in my fist and his shorts were around his ankles. A glance at his limp cock revealed it was red and irritated. Thank god I hadn't done more damage, but I could only imagine how much biting down like that had hurt.

I was beyond mortified as I got up and scrambled backwards, over the rubble that used to be a coffee table. He just stood there, staring at me with a shocked and horrified expression. I carefully placed his ripped shirt on a chair and muttered, "I'm so fucking sorry," before turning and rushing out of that hotel room.

I took the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, driven by an overwhelming urge to get out of there, now . When I reached the ground floor, I speed-walked across the lobby and burst through the door.

Then I paused on the sidewalk and took a few deep breaths. What a disaster! I'd never been so embarrassed. And of course, I felt horrible and racked with guilt, because as bad as that had been for me, it must have been an absolute nightmare for him.

I fished my phone out of my pocket and started walking. Before I reached the first intersection, I'd blocked his number. I couldn't stand the thought of him calling and telling me what a fucked-up loser I was. By the second intersection, I'd deleted the hookup app.

Fuck anonymous hookups. Fuck all of this. I really should have just stayed home and jerked off.