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  Ready, he broke into popular glamrock, not just songs he’d written but some the audience knew. At times he’d flick his wrist in a stereotypical gay movement or rock his butt and the audience understood the humor of it and roared.

  Raven’s breath caught at the sound of his voice, which was full and clear whether in the low sexy or high tenor tones. He had an incredible range. He also had CDs, and Raven realized he must have earned his money as a touring entertainer.

  How sad, he thought, that Hunter acted as if he were a nothing. It made no sense at all. It was how a once viciously abused child thought of himself, and it hadn’t been true then nor was it now.

  In that moment, sitting there holding a sweaty beer bottle untouched in his hand and thinking those thoughts, Raven understood with sudden insight why Hunter had left him.

  I reinforced that abuse, that lack of acceptance of who and what he is. I asked him to leave off his makeup. Shame sat like acid in his stomach.

  Hunter finished his set to mountainous applause and left the stage.

  As another group set up, Raven sat, too paralyzed to move. At last he broke through it and headed for Hunter’s door before he lost his nerve at risking Hunter’s hatred and rejection.

  Raven stepped into a small, cluttered dressing room and snapped the lock closed on the door behind him. He leaned against it, trembling with concern at how he’d be received, arms folded as he waited for Hunter to see him.

  Hunter was sitting at the dressing table, chest bare, gloves missing.

  Not a bad idea to go shirtless, Raven thought, considering the stifling heat in the small room.

  The lights surrounding the large makeup mirror revealed a dusting of transparent face powder over a jumble of makeup jars, pots of glitter, eye shadow, mascara and eye liner, sponges and brushes of all kinds scattered across the counter. Worse than a woman’s, Raven thought with a smile.

  Hunter looked up and into the mirror, his eyes widening in surprise. Then sadness, anger, and joy seemed to fight for control of his features. He held a jar of coconut oil in one hand, and there was a damp facecloth on the table in front of him. The smell of the oil mingled with the other fragrant scents in the room.

  Raven approached him.

  “What the—”

  “Don’t remove your makeup.” Raven took the coconut oil out of his hand as he leaned down with his lips poised over Hunter’s lips and tipped his chin up with one finger. “You are beautiful. So incredibly talented.” He brushed his lips over Hunter’s dark red ones, nipped his lower lip and ran his tongue over the spot. “Hmm, raspberry. I like it.” He pressed his lips to the angle of his jaw and then just beneath his ear. Taking Hunter’s hand, he pulled him out of his chair placed his hands on both shoulders, to kiss him long and deep.

  Tears ran down Hunter’s cheeks, creating rivulets of black mascara. “I thought I’d never see you again.” He wrapped his arms around Raven’s waist and returned his kiss, mouth open and tonguing.

  Hunter moaned when Raven slid his fingers into his ears, but after Raven had brushed kisses on his temples and cheeks, he pulled away. His eyes would be next.

  Raven said, “What’s this? I’ve made your mascara run, I have it and kohl on my face, and red lipstick on my lips. What’s a little purple eye shadow added to that?”

  A light laugh came from Hunter. “It’s the glitter. Not good to get it in your mouth.”

  Raven kissed his eyelids anyway, avoiding the small triangle of silver in the center. There were entrancing tastes and scents to this new Hunter, with his makeup and lipstick. “I love the way you smell. The way your skin tastes. It’s enticing. I’d like to lick you all over. Maybe even suck your cock again. Of course, glitter would wreak havoc there, wouldn’t it?”

  He slid his hand over the bulge in Hunter’s leathers and rubbed. “I love the feel and taste of this, too. I had one just like it when I watched you sing tonight. All the blood left my head and flooded my dick. I bet I wasn’t the only man in the audience with an erection. I had a hard-on and was dizzy with pride and love.”

  Hunter squirmed and tightened his hands on Raven’s butt. He started to speak, but Raven stopped him.

  “Today I realized I drove you away because of what I said about your makeup. I’m sorry for not understanding how that would hurt you. When I saw you in all your glam tonight, I realized who I’d fallen in love with and what I’d done. I had no right to ask you to be someone you aren’t.”

  “I just wanted to be beautiful for you.”

  “Hunter, Hunter, Hunter. You’ll always be beautiful to me with or without glam, but tonight I discovered I was so turned on by that I wanted to come up on that stage and fuck your ass right then and there. “

  He started the downward pull of Hunter’s zipper, but Hunter’s hand stopped him.

  “I’m commando.”

  “On stage commando?” He groaned. “That’s even sexier than I thought. If I’d known that I’d have come in my pants. Trust me, I won’t catch any of you in this zipper.”

  He was slow and careful, sensing the sexual buildup in his lover with every half inch he drew the zipper down. The big cock popped free of the tight, confining leather, and Raven played with it, kneeling to lick a swirling path up and down then dancing into the slit. He nipped, stroked, and pulled it until Hunter said, “Hurry!”

  He sucked him in, teeth grazing the sensitive under lip of the head over and over, until Hunter’s hand gripped his shoulders and he slammed against his throat in orgasmic thrusts that brought him his release.

  A feeling of exaltation roared through Ravin, and he swallowed.

  In time, Hunter pulled him to his feet. “Your turn.”

  Raven wrapped him in his arms and kissed his hair. “My turn, yes. But let’s go home, Hunter. Come home with me for good.”

  Now quiet tears ran down both their cheeks. Raven learned how to use the coconut oil to remove the mascara smears left by them, then he stopped. “We can finish this in the condo.”

  “You don’t mind being in public with me in full facial glam?” Hunter’s forehead creased with concern.

  Raven threw his head back and laughed. “I’ve already been seen in public with you. Come on, let’s go.”

  Hunter zipped up and pulled on a sweatshirt Raven recognized at once. “You took my shirt!”

  Now Hunter dropped his head, embarrassment coloring his face. “I know. I hoped I wouldn’t be accused of theft, but I couldn’t let go of you, Raven. Not then. Not yet.”

  Raven slid fingers under his chin and lifted his friend’s head, pressing a kiss on his nose. “And now you’ll never have to.”

  Hunter slipped his leather jacket on, and, hands locked together, they left the club.

  Author’s Note

  We used to vacation in neighboring Solana Beach, which is as lovely and green as Encinitas. The seaside areas are well known to my family, and they hold a special meaning for me. As a result of the weeks we spent there while she was growing up, our daughter enrolled in a San Diego university because they offered credit if you took surfing as a class. It also had a reputation as a party school, of course. Not to worry…she earned her surfing credits as well as a degree, had what she describes as fantastic fun, and has turned out to be an exceptionally able, thoughtful, and serious adult. (Even if I, as her mom, say so myself.)

  I hope you enjoy reading about the coast of southern California—where two gifted men rekindle teenage love and come to accept who and what they are.

  Although I grew up on southern California beaches—and have a son who attended a San Diego state university mostly because it offered surfing classes for credit—I had forgotten some of the slang surfers use. My thanks to the website Cougartown.com and John Baker for reminding me.

  THE END

  ABOUT CAROLINA VALDEZ

  For Carolina Valdez, books and writing have been a major pleasure in her life. She composed her first stories at the age of eight, and since books were almost nonexistent in h
er parents’ home, she read everything in the elementary school library. Her mother took her to the nearest county branch, and the librarian selected appropriate adult books for her to read. A major treat was to scout used bookstores searching for her favorite authors.

  Multi-published and winning awards in nonfiction and fiction, Valdez decided to begin a novel. She had it in her head that if you were a real writer, you wrote a book. She had no idea what she was writing until a member of her critique group mentioned her “romance.” Enthralled by that genre, she has focused on it ever since.

  She is a member of RWA-PAN (the Published Author Network of Romance Writers of America) and RWA's Orange County, California, and Pasic chapters. Suspense and murder crop up in her romances because she's also a member of the Los Angeles chapter of Sisters in Crime.

  She and her husband reside in southern California, only minutes away from mountains, desert, or beach.

  For more information, visit carolinavaldez.com.

  ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

  JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!