Blake Hudson has everything. The perfect job, a penthouse apartment, and killer abs. But when he suffers a heart attack at 39, he realizes something is missing from his life and wonders if being career-oriented was just another way of saying workaholic.
When his doctor suggests he take time off from work, Blake puts it off. He's got too much work as a new partner in New York City's hottest advertising agency and he's about to land a multi-million dollar account. But his employer pulls rank and surprises him with the keys to his own house in Fort Lauderdale, the Venice of America.
With Ricky Sanchez, a smoldering Latin hunk, Blake discovers there truly is more to life than working 24/7 and making money. There are places to visit, things to do, and steamy sex to be had anywhere their imagination will let them. But all vacations must come to an end. What will Blake choose when the agency calls him back to babysit his coveted multi-million dollar account?
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Loose Id, LLC
January 19, 2011
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Excerpt from Lauderdale Hearts by Johnny Miles
It was only after he stepped aside and let Ricky in, holding his bag of oils, that Blake thought he should go back upstairs and put some pants on or perhaps an oversize T-shirt. But it certainly looked as if Ricky didn't mind.
While Blake pulled the front door closed, Bosco rammed his nose into Ricky's crotch and sniffed and snorted.
"Bosco, no!" Blake reached for the dog's collar and pulled him away -- though he had to admit, he couldn't blame him. He would have liked to have done the same.
Oh, to be a fucking dog!
"Sorry," Blake offered in apology but couldn't stifle a grin. "He's never done that. Usually he just sniffs ass."
"It's okay." Ricky laughed. "I'm used to it. A lot of my clients have big ones. Dogs, that is."
Blake drank in the sight of the Latin man standing before him. He had naturally tanned skin like caramel, and jet-black hair cropped high and tight. He was dressed in a short-sleeved polo shirt in hunter green that clung to every part of his torso. Blake noted the rounded shoulders, the defined arms, the chiseled chest. The material of his white jean shorts stretched and clung to perfectly sculpted legs. Blake couldn't help imagining those legs thrown over his shoulders, those ankles around his neck.
Blake's cock stirred for the first time in nearly two weeks.
Jesus, fuck. Not now!
"Nice boxers," Ricky muttered, then cleared his throat.
"Sorry, man." Blake covered himself as he flushed. "It's...ah... I...just woke up a few minutes ago. You know how that is."
"Yeah." Ricky grinned slowly. "I do."
Blake noted the young man's appreciative eyes on his body, the way Ricky scanned him openly, boldly. The tip of Ricky's tongue slithered out, enticing, as he licked his thick lower lip, then gently bit it.
"It's okay, man," Ricky said in a soothing tone. Blake swallowed, nervous and awkward. "So, are you guys lovers?"
"Wh-what?" Blake spluttered. "Who? Me and Derrick? Oh no. Noooo. We're not lovers. We're partners."
Blake thought he saw a look of disappointment on Ricky's face. The young man arched an eyebrow, and the grin disappeared. Then Blake realized what he had said and how it must have sounded.
"No, no! Not like that. We're business partners."
The glimmer of a smile once again appeared.
"Derrick's a nice guy, but he's totally not my type."
"Oh yeah? What is your type?"
"You," Blake replied, his voice soft and low. He'd meant to say guys like you, but apparently his mind had other thoughts. Blake's heart was racing. It seemed to him they were standing too close. He could feel Ricky's body heat.
Blake glanced down and thought he noticed Ricky's bulge grow larger. He was pretty sure it hadn't been that obvious before. He resisted the urge to reach out and cup it.
"Me, huh?" Ricky grinned sensually. He took a step closer. "That's good to know. Very good to know indeed!"
Dear God! This is insane. What's he doing to me?
Blake had never been one to shy away from a man coming on to him, but usually he was the one doing the pursuing. And this one was much younger. Ricky was all of... What? Ten? Fifteen years younger? Yet so incredibly confident. So cocky and self-assured. So fucking hot.
And the reaction his body was having! He was almost fully hard. His blood raced, and his heart thumped almost as loudly as when he'd had the heart attack. He could feel it hammering away.
"Uh, maybe...maybe I should just show you to the massage room?" Blake took a step back, suddenly scared and unsure. "There's a table already set up in there."
"Oh. Uh, okay. Sure," Ricky replied. Blake heard disappointment in the young man's voice and wanted to explain that nothing would give him greater pleasure, that it was the first time he'd been aroused and wanted to have sex since the heart attack, but this was a total stranger.
Yet he felt so comfortable with Ricky.
They were quiet as they made their way up the stairs. Bosco stayed below. Blake already knew from the night before that no amount of cajoling would get him up. Bosco didn't like the open risers.
Blake imagined he could feel Ricky's eyes boring into him. Secretly, he hoped his ass looked as good in boxers as he knew it did in briefs.
"Nice view," Ricky said admiringly as they stepped onto the second floor.
"Thanks," Blake said, blushing once more. That was something else; he hardly ever reddened over a compliment. Then he turned and noticed Ricky looking out over the railing toward the yacht.
Blake's heart sank with disappointment.
"I think I'll just...head on up to my room," Blake said after clearing his throat. Ricky turned to him.
"That is, provided you don't need anything else," Blake added. He gulped and hoped it wasn't visible.
"Uh," Ricky started. He looked as if he might say something smart, witty, or flirty but then changed his mind. "I'm okay," Ricky said quietly. "I've got everything I need in my bag. Thanks."
Blake nodded and moved away slowly.
"Hey, uh, Blake?"
"Yeah?" Blake stopped.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I stop him from flirting and coming on to me?
He tried to tell himself it was the age difference.
"Maybe I'll..." Ricky paused for a long, uncomfortable moment -- long enough to make him want to go up to Ricky and kiss the words out of his mouth.
Blake's breath caught.
"See you around?" Ricky gave a weak grin.
Blake smiled and nodded. He was disappointed with his inability to make a move, but his chest expanded as a warm rush of promise filled his heart.
* * * * *
Blake went into his room, closed the door, then leaned against it. He exhaled sharply. There was only one reason he could think of for why he had stopped the banter. Certainly the age difference was something to consider, but it had never stopped him before.
Chickenshit! a voice taunted.
Blake picked up his iPhone and scrolled for his doctor's number in New York. He dialed, unable to believe that of the seemingly hundreds of questions he'd asked, there was one crucial question he'd forgotten.
"Dr. Mellon's office," a pleasant female voice answered.
"Uh, yes, hi." Blake spoke softly, afraid of being overheard. "My name is Blake Hudson, and I'm a cli -- I mean, a patient of Dr. Mellon's."
"I'm sorry, sir. Can you please speak up?"
Shit! Why the hell am I whispering? It's not like they can possibly hear me in this big house!
Blake spoke more loudly and asked to speak to the doctor.
"I'm sorry, sir. Dr. Mellon is in surgery today. I can take a message for him if you like. He'll be calling in for his messages later this afternoon."
Blake wondered how it would sound to her and he suddenly felt self-conscious. But surely this wasn't the first time the question had come up.
"Can you please ask him if I can...uh...if I can have sex? Er, with someone else, I mean."
The woman was silent. Blake imagined her putting the phone on mute and bursting into laughter, perhaps sharing it with the others in the office, the nurses. Blake's throat felt dry. He was about to hang up, when the woman spoke again.
"Your phone number, please?"
Blake sighed, realizing he had been holding his breath. He gave her his number.
"Are there...any other cardiologists there who can answer my question?"
"I'll run it past her and have someone call you."
Blake thanked her and hung up.
* * * * *
Time definitely passes much more slowly here than in New York, Blake thought impatiently. An hour and a half had felt like an entire day.
Blake shifted for the millionth time, striking what he hoped was a sexy and seductive yet casual pose on the chaise, just in case Ricky walked out onto patio after the massage.
Bosco had curled up at his feet, and the bowl Blake had filled with fruit earlier sat empty on a glass table beside him.
But Derrick walked out alone, wrapped in a white towel.
"Hello," Blake said, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Mmm. Hello, yourself." Derrick rolled his head and shrugged, grinning.
"I take it the massage was good?"
"Oh my God. Probably the best I've ever had." Derrick pouted. "No happy ending, though."
"Yeah. You know." Derrick crudely pretended to jerk off. Secretly, Blake was glad Ricky wasn't that kind of masseuse.
"Still," Derrick continued, "I suppose it's more about the therapeutic value than getting off. Right? But it's so intimate, and I get so damn horny when a hot guy like Ricky plays with my body." Derrick trembled, then sighed. "Say, did you call the doctor? Do you know if you can get a massage?"
"How the hell should I know?" Blake snapped irritably. "I'm not even sure if I can have sex!" Then he looked up at Derrick, who grinned lasciviously. Blake cleared his throat.
"Oh!" Derrick teased. "I see. You liked Ricky, didn't you?"
"No!" Blake replied, sounding much more emphatic than he needed to. "It's just, you know, in case I hit a bar or something."
"Yeah, right." Derrick put his hands on his hips, then made his way to the chaise beside Blake's.
"So where is Ricky, anyway?"
"He's gone. Had to go to school." Derrick sat and leaned back.
"Yeah. He's finishing up his bachelor's in marketing."
"Marketing? But that's great! When he's done, maybe we can offer him a position."
"Two steps ahead of you, buddy. I already hinted at it, but either he doesn't get subtlety or he's not interested."
"Oh," Blake muttered, unable to hide his disappointment.
"But he asked about you," Derrick teased.
"Oh?" Blake couldn't resist breaking out into a smile.
"Yeah. He wanted to know if you were single."
"Really? Did he ask anything else?"
"He wanted to know if you were a nice guy."
"And?" The smile turned into a grin. "What did you tell him?"
Derrick arched his eyebrows and took a deep breath, as if for dramatic effect. He then glanced at Blake with an apologetic look.
"I told him you were a prick, had been married twice, and had a brood of kids back in New York." Derrick said, deadpan, then burst into laughter.
"I gave him your number. He sounded pretty eager. Don't disappoint him! Now c'mon!" Derrick jumped out of his chaise and rubbed his hands together. "I have a city full of hot men to show you and only a few hours to do it!"