Stormy Weather Read online




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  STORMY WEATHER

  by

  ADRIANNA DANE

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.amberquill.com

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  Stormy Weather

  An Amber Quill Press Book

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.amberquill.com

  http://www.amberheat.com

  http://www.amber-allure.com

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  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  Copyright © 2008 by Dream Romantic Unlimited LLC

  ISBN 978-1-60272-320-7

  Cover Art © 2008 Trace Edward Zaber

  Layout and Formatting

  Provided by: Elemental Alchemy

  Published in the United States of America

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  Also by Adrianna Dane

  An Acquired Taste

  Carnal Carnivale

  The Exile: Carved In Memory

  The Exile: A Seductive Tale

  Hidden Impact

  I Want

  Mariposa Soul

  No Choice

  Opposing Forces

  Primal Magic: Swan's Lake

  Sea Sentinel: From The Waters

  Sully's Heart

  Unicorn Craving

  A View To Possession

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  Chapter 1

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  He stood in the rain, waiting for the tow truck to arrive. It figured his car would die now, just when he was trying to make a break from his memories of Aaron and to start over. For Drake it was work to be impulsive, it just wasn't in his nature. This experience should tell him something.

  He'd called work to let them know he was taking a few days off and then had thrown some clothes into a bag and just escaped from the city. No map, no clue as to where he was going. Just heading north, following the road until it ended. Looking to escape.

  Why was he not surprised? Aaron could always get away with being impulsive. But not Drake. He'd so admired his ex-lover, with his panache and flamboyant air. It's what had drawn him to Aaron Van Caarlson in the first place. Bright colors, vivid and explosive emotions.

  Even at their first meeting right there in the crowded foyer of the theater at intermission, the man had drawn practically every eye in the place. Drake had spotted Aaron from across the room, a sharp twinge of awareness of the other man who was holding court to a gaggle of young men held rapt by whatever he was talking about. His whole body was in movement, beautiful, sweeping gestures and Drake was held rapt, his attention locked on the scene across the room. Short dark hair, with violet and magenta highlights that glimmered beneath the light. Colorful and changing as a kaleidoscope in movement. It was almost as though he had positioned himself in just that spot, the light shining down on him. God, Drake was envious of that kind of passion.

  Aaron was beautiful, so beautiful. And then Drake had caught his breath as Aaron looked past the crowd and his sapphire gaze had settled on Drake. Drake who felt like he belonged in a black and white photograph compared to the man across the room. He saw Aaron stop talking and part the sea of young men who offered him their dedicated attention.

  At first, Drake had felt like a gauche youth ready to run and hide, rather than his own thirty-two years. And then Aaron's bright, engaging smile had blinded him with its intensity. Aaron came to a stop in front of Drake, his vivid, intelligent eyes blazing over him, drinking in every iota of Drake's appearance. One hand balanced on a lean hip, clothed in sedate, expensive black, the other hand, a well-manicured finger placed against his smooth, tanned cheek as he studied Drake. Aaron Van Caarlson was well known in the world of art and theater. His family name spoken in hushed tones. Aaron reeked of old money and artistic expression.

  "Well, hello there. I've never seen you before. What's your name?"

  Drake couldn't believe Aaron Van Caarlson was coming on to him. "Drake Calhoun. This is the first time I've been to the Cadmoor."

  Shocked by the desire that immediately flared inside him when Aaron placed his hands on Drake's shoulders and brought his face closer, Drake couldn't find the strength to move away.

  "I like your name, Drake Calhoun. My name's Aaron." Drake's eyes widened when one of Aaron's hands reached down to cup his balls.

  "Jesus, what are you doing? I don't even know you."

  Aaron laughed. It was a very sexy sound that reached down into Drake's gut, grabbed and twisted at his insides.

  "All the better, big guy. Come with me. I know a nice quiet place where you and I can get to know each other much better. Before you know it, we won't be strangers at all." He linked his arm through Drake's and dragged him across the crowded room toward a doorway marked "Exit" in bright scarlet letters.

  Oh, yes, Aaron had swept him away with his impulsive, dynamic personality. They'd gotten to know each other very well that night--as intimately as he could ever imagine knowing another person. Aaron's kisses had been impassioned, drugging, until Drake hadn't known which way was up. His hands, his mouth knew no boundaries.

  How Drake had let him undress him, taste him. How Drake had come for him, not once but three times. How Aaron had pressed him to join him and his entourage at the club later, until the wee hours of the morning. And ended up in his bed that night, crushed between two bodies.

  The color of Aaron's world had shined down on Drake, lighting him up, drawing Drake into a world he'd never known before. Fast and high and extreme. It had all been so wonderful, until they had tried living together. Then it had all fallen apart. Two years of trying to fit into Aaron's world. But he'd always remained a fringe dweller. And it was never more apparent than when they had tried living together.

  Aaron had never worried about what would happen tomorrow, how the rent was going to be paid, who he might hurt with his unharnessed words and attitude. It hadn't been so much the odd young men he'd brought home on occasion and that were always draped over the furniture. Men he'd shared with Drake and men he'd shared Drake with.

  After trying so hard to please the man he loved, one day he'd come home to find Aaron gone. Just like that. Not even a note. Every bit of Aaron's personality scrubbed from the apartment and from Drake's life.

  Drake had wanted to believe Aaron loved him enough to try to make their relationship work. But Aaron never did anything that wasn't convenient for him. He grew bored and he moved on to find another fanciful bauble that might catch his eye.

  Drake's heart had been broken, but deep down he'd always known that Aaron was something fleeting in his life. And the more he tried to hold onto him, the more Aaron tried to free himself from Drake. Until finally he'd left.

  That had been five months before and Drake had tried to get on with his life. He looked up at the dark sky and black clouds. Rain hammered down, soaking him through.

  Being impulsive had never been a good thing in his life. He never should have gotten involved with Aaron. The man had been way out of his league. He never should have decided to take this trip at the last minute. He was such a fool.

  But he'd felt like he was suffocating and he'd needed to get out of the city. Aaron was gone and he was never coming back. Okay, so he took it hard. Accept it. You mourned him, dammit, now get on with it.r />
  If only it were that easy. It was the newspaper article, that's what had triggered this rash decision. Seeing Aaron there, dancing, in the arms of another man. Laughing and enjoying himself. Drake doubted his ex-lover even remembered his time with Drake.

  It just hurt too damn much.

  The rain didn't feel good; it didn't feel bad. It just soaked him all the way through. Soaked and soaked and soaked.

  He turned as he heard the rumble of a huge truck and saw the flashing lights of the wrecker. He waited next to his car as a man jumped down, shrugged and pulled up the hood of his blue rain slicker and strode back to where Drake stood.

  "Hey, man." He held out his hand to shake Drake's hand. It was warm and callused, and big. "Name's Vic and we've got to get this car hitched up and out of here. Flash flood warning and the water's rising. My place is on high ground, but we've got to move fast. It's too dangerous to try to do anything here. Got your keys?"

  Drake motioned to his car. "They're in the ignition."

  Vic grinned from beneath the shadow of his hood. "Cool. Let's get this car out of here."

  Flash flood. Again, it figured. Was it even possible for Drake to make a right decision ever again?

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  Chapter 2

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  The cab of the truck was close, maybe too close. Vic really knew what he was doing--he had the car loaded and ready to go with little actual help from Drake other than asking him to stay out of his way.

  But now as they sat in the truck and headed through the driving rain back to--wherever he was taking them--Drake had a chance to slide a sideways glance at his savior in all this mess.

  He was younger than he'd expected--maybe in his mid to late thirties. Nice profile. Drake might even call it sensitive, not weathered or hard, like he'd been working outdoors all his life. When Vic had finally gotten in the truck and tossed back the hood of his slicker, Drake had tried not to stare. He had the most gorgeous, oddly colored hair. A bit overly long, but on Vic it looked good. Red with gold highlights. Maybe natural from working outside. No chemicals there. The dark shadow covering his jaw made him look like a pirate. Drake liked the look.

  He looked at Vic's large hands curved around the big steering wheel. He had long fingers; smears of grease covered the backs of his hands. He had the hands of a man who knew how to use them to make a living, yet in some ways, with those long fingers, he might have been a musician or an artist.

  No, he veered his mind away from art. Drake didn't want to go where that thought led.

  Instead he forced his mind to the man behind the wheel of the truck. Drake remembered the feel of the handshake, the hard calluses. Vic was a man who understood the value of a dollar.

  There was the smell of gasoline and oil in the close confines of the truck. The blast of heat breathed over them, attempting to dissipate the dampness of the cold, wet rain.

  And there was the scent of male sweat. Drake was shocked at how aroused he was in response to the various aromas as they clashed and mingled inside him.

  "Where you headed?" Vic asked without taking his eyes off the slick road.

  His question caught Drake off guard. His mind had been on other things.

  "Headed?" He felt stupid echoing the question.

  "Yeah. Where were you going?"

  "Oh. I was leaving the city for a few days. I wanted to get away. Guess this wasn't the best time to do it."

  He heard Vic chuckle. "Yeah, I guess so. This storm came up without warning. A lot harder than we expected. There's flood warnings all over the county and everyone's scrambling. But it won't flood where my garage is located, so you don't need to worry about your car. Hot coffee on, too."

  "Thanks for coming out in this to help. I really appreciate it."

  Vic shrugged. "No problem. It's my job."

  "But apparently it's dangerous out tonight. I'm surprised you took the chance on not making it back home. Flood warnings aren't anything to take lightly."

  "Nope, they're not. But I couldn't leave you stranded out there now could I? That wouldn't be right either. Don't worry about it. I'll take a look at your car when we get to the garage. Hopefully it won't be long before we can get you back on the road."

  There was silence between them for a long time. The only sound the steady swishing of the wipers against the windshield and the strong blast of heat. Drake tried to peer into the darkness, past the sheets of rain and growing fog to see where they were. But it was like being in another world and he was lucky if he could see as far as the headlights on the road allowed. He had no idea how Vic could tell where he was going.

  "This is pretty dangerous weather."

  "Yes, it sure is. Not a good night to be out."

  Drake found himself again glancing over at Vic. It seemed he was in some way drawn to the rugged man, and he couldn't keep his eyes off him.

  Just an hour ago all he could think about was Aaron and how much he missed him and felt betrayed by him. And now, here he was, sitting in the cab of a tow truck, thinking lustful thoughts about a stranger he didn't even know. And who probably wasn't even gay. Damn, he knew how to pick them.

  He hadn't known Aaron the first time they'd made love in the back room of the theater. But it hadn't been Drake who'd acted on impulse; it had been Aaron who wasn't afraid of anything. Aaron was the type of man who never expected to be turned down. He had a way about him that attracted men--both gay and straight.

  But Drake wasn't like that. He had never propositioned a man on a whim. Not like Aaron. He leaned his head against the cool, wet window glass. He was so weary of fighting his memories of his ex-lover. If Aaron were here now, they'd probably be parked by the side of the road, flood or no flood, and sexing it out all the way to the hilt. Nobody could resist Aaron.

  "You okay, man?" Drake jumped when Vic asked the question.

  Drake snapped his attention to Vic. He'd been so lost in his depressing reveries, he'd forgotten where he was. He straightened. His gaze connected with Vic's for a brief moment before Vic turned his attention back to the road.

  Drake felt his cock begin to stir. It was apparently quite interested in the man behind the wheel and, left to its own devices, would have forged ahead leaving Drake behind if he was too scared to make his move.

  "Had a bad time of it?" Vic asked.

  Drake shrugged. "Thinking about an ex-lover. I'm sure you've heard the story before. The rain doesn't help--kind of brings back memories. Too much time to think, maybe." He didn't know why he was confiding in this man.

  "She walked out on you, huh? That's tough, man."

  This was it. He could open the door and see what happened or slink away. Was he man enough to take the leap?

  Drake stared out the windshield. He saw only himself reflected back. "It wasn't a woman. It was a man. I'm gay." His gaze slid to Vic's reflection in the glass. Vic's gaze met his. Drake held his breath. Would he see a look of disgust on his face? At least then Drake would know. Something about the closeness of the cab and the darkness of the night seemed to add some hint of bravado to him. In other circumstances he'd never think of making the first move like this--not so impulsively at least. He liked to plan things ahead, consider his options carefully.

  But there was something about this man. Or maybe it was the combination of his weary memories, the savage storm, and the rugged man. Something he needed desperately tonight.

  "That's tough losing a partner like that. I haven't been in a steady relationship for a long time, but I know how hard it can be to lose a lover." He paused a moment before continuing. "I'm gay, too."

  And then his attention shifted back to the dangerous road.

  Drake's breathing returned and his heart beat faster. Jesus, what did he do now?

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  Chapter 3

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  The atmosphere in the vehicle had somehow thickened. Drake could feel a certain heightened sexual tension. Or maybe it was just him. It could be because the weather had gotten worse a
nd they'd driven through several spots were the water had already swallowed the road to some degree. Drake knew if he'd tried to take his little citified car through several of those deeper spots, he'd have ended up waterlogged at best. He looked down at the rushing streams along the side of the road and could only consider himself damned lucky that Vic had been there to answer the phone and get him out of the jam he'd found himself in.

  Drake straightened as they pulled into the parking lot of a small country garage. "This is your place?"

  Vic shifted gears and brought the truck to a stop. "Yup, this is it. If you don't mind, once I get your car unloaded, maybe you can help me push it into the bay and I'll take a look at it."

  Drake nodded, opened the door, and jumped to the ground. For a while he watched Vic as he lowered and unhooked the various lines and chains anchoring the car. The more time he spent in his company, the more attracted he was to the man. He worked with precision, apparently knowing exactly what he was doing. Drake really wanted to see the body that was beneath all that rain gear.

  Vic got back into the truck and drove it away, parking it on the other side of the garage. Drake watched him hop out and make his way back to where Drake stood near his car. The man was soaking wet, just as wet as Drake was.

  He wiped a hand across his face, leaving a black streak in its wake. Drake wanted to pull out his handkerchief and wipe away the black smudge. And then he wanted to kiss him--kiss him hard and deep, tasting raindrops and sweat and rugged man. Damn, he was so hot for this guy. What had gotten into him? One minute he was thinking about his bird of paradise ex-lover, and then next he wanted this man who moved and reminded him of a big jungle cat. More man than he'd ever been with before. A dangerous thing to want.