Unlikely reunion, p.1
Unlikely Reunion, page 1
Table of Contents
Books by Lily Michaels
Title Page
Legal Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademark Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Read more from Lily Michaels
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About the Author
Pride Publishing books by Lily Michaels
Single Books
A Granted Wish
Improbable Bonds
UNLIKELY REUNION
LILY MICHAELS
Unlikley Reunion
ISBN # 978-1-913186-59-3
©Copyright Lily Michaels 2020
Cover Art by Erin Dameron-Hill ©Copyright January 2020
Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Pride Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2020 by Pride Publishing, United Kingdom.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.
Pride Publishing is an imprint of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.
Book one in the
Improbable Bonds series
Erik’s adolescent crush becomes a very adult relationship at his high school reunion.
Seeing his former bullies starstruck is definitely on Erik Stevens’ agenda for his high school reunion. Hooking up with someone is not. He has resolved to end the meaningless sex that has dotted his life, even though it fed his need to dominate. Now he is looking for a man—a submissive—for a relationship that will last forever.
But Erik hasn’t counted on Kyle.
For ten years, Kyle Lincke has cursed his repressed sexuality that, in high school, kept him from acting on his crush…Erik. As soon as he receives Erik’s RSVPed ‘yes’ to the reunion, Kyle begins working up the courage to finally act on his desires, difficult for him to do following a disastrous break-up.
But six weeks of exploration into BDSM and small steps toward a deeper relationship are thrown into jeopardy when Erik’s fame threatens their bond—and Kyle’s fragile psyche.
Dedication
As always, everything I do is for my dynamic AA duo.
A dedication could not exist without the foundation I got with the brilliant women of RChat. The friendship and wisdom I gained there are the reason I even have a book to dedicate to anyone. I love you girls.
My valuable CPs and beloved friends: Marit, Meka, Hannah and MJ. I can never thank you ladies enough for your time, dedication and encouragement. And smutty boy pictures… definitely smutty boy pictures.
Luna, your thoughtfulness and willingness to share all the adorable TinyEditor moments with me means the world.
And, as with every dedication, to my best friend, alpha reader and person Evie… There aren’t enough words. Thank you for pushing me to do better—especially on this story—believing in me endlessly and never letting me give up. Above all, for letting me snuggle the furry Roman god of wine and spirits.
Trademark Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Coke: Coca-Cola Company
Oscar: Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences Corporation
Emmy: Academy of Television Arts & Sciences & Sciences, Inc.
Summer Nights: Jim Jacobs, Warren Casey
Band-Aid: Johnson & Johnson Corporation
Wi-Fi: Wi-Fi Alliance Corporation
Chapter One
Erik
My expectations for a tacky ambiance at my tenth class reunion did not disappoint, and every ounce of my bitchy soul loved it. Sneaking into the back to avoid being spotted too soon served a double purpose. I could make snide mental comments about the décor, have a few extra moments of anonymity and scope out exactly where the assholes were gathered—the ones who’d made four years of high school in a small town as a skinny, gay loser that much more miserable.
Yeah, that was a group I was hoping to avoid, even though I was far from the same person I’d been then. Even if I had success after success linked to my name, I couldn’t shake the memories of being shoved against the wall, of being called every normal derogatory name and a few new ones they had so cleverly come up with.
I purposely walked slow around the periphery of the room, not wanting to miss a single detail. My interior designer would demand an in-depth description, after which she would require oxygen at the very least, perhaps full resuscitation.
The round tables covered with red cloths and accented with silverware wrapped in black napkins weren’t bad. Rather stylish, really. The red and black balloon arch? Certainly not something I’d see in LA, but reasonable. Fun, even.
But the cards? Holy fuck, the cards. Oversized playing cards arranged awkwardly were meant to be centerpieces…the Queen of Hearts, the King of Diamonds, the Jack of Spades. But they had nothing on the poster-board-sized card replicas stuck to the wall. Each one had the face of royalty replaced with one of my classmates.
The images were from their senior portraits, which were already a decade old and, in many cases, a far cry from their current reality, myself included. The pulse of the music from my adolescence reverberated in my skull when my gaze landed on my card in all of its acne-riddled, mousy, unstyled hair, Coke-bottle-glasses glory.
I slid my hands into the pockets of my rose-colored tux as I stared at the former me, the me I’d been before I’d landed a small part on a soap opera—the me before my co-star Katrina had taken me under her wing and helped me morph into the golden boy she’d somehow known was lurking beneath, the me before a starring television role, three subsequent blockbuster movies, an Oscar win and an Emmy nom. That bitch would be mine next year.
I crossed my legs in front of me and leaned against the wall, the coolness of the stone seeping through my jacket and shirt, kissing my skin. The Erik that I once had been had so consumed my concentration that a tap on my shoulder made me jump then slowly blink when I realized who it was.
What are the fucking chances?
“Hey, man, I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize you. And you don’t have a tag on…” The full lips I’d spent far too long dreaming about a decade before quirked into a half-smile and he stuck his hand out. “Kyle Lincke…with a beard now and a construction business to match the stereotype.”
As if I don’t know who he is. As if I hadn’t had many a shower turn ice cold as I stroked my cock, dreaming of his lips wrapped around it… As if I hadn’t spent the whole of my high school years both hoping he would pay some attention to me and skillfully avoiding his sphere, thanks to sheer intimidation… And as if I could ever forget the single fateful day our paths had crossed and he’d spared me a vicious encounter at the hands of almost half the football team…
“Erik Stevens, former loser, current actor.” My fame and still relatively newfound good looks had made me a little cocky—or a lot cocky. Even before the multiple laps I’d forced my driver to make around the building, I had intentionally been late and had snuck in. The notion of humming whispers when I’d eventually be noticed, followed by an eruption of applause, cheers and back claps from the assholes who used to torture me had lulled me to sleep every night this week.
The tightening of his fingers around mine and the realization dawning on his face were fucking priceless. It looked like my high school crush was going to be the first worshiper at the altar of Erik tonight. Reality was turning out better than my dreams.
His Adam’s apple bobbed several times, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “ I was hoping…” He shook his head and licked his lips. Even in the dim light, his dark eyes were sparkling. “I never dreamed you’d actually come. I thought that ‘yes’ was a joke.”
A quip about ‘coming’ was on the tip of my tongue, but it and every other conscious thought were stolen as he dropped his mouth onto mine. He released my hand and quickly lowered his to my waist, gripping it tightly. He pressed me deeper into the wall and I was helpless to do anything to stop him.
As if I fucking would. Four years of pornographic fantasies were finally being fulfilled, even if it was a decade late. I trailed my fingers up his arms and across his shoulders, stopping only when they met and clung to the nape of his neck.
He groaned against my lips, rocking his hips against mine. I gasped at the first contact with his already-hard cock and dug my nails into his skin.
His thick but well-groomed facial hair created a delicious burn as he deepened the kiss. He moved his hands around behind me, cupping my ass and pulling me tighter against him. My dick screamed for release and my trendy, tapered slacks were now the most uncomfortable creation in the world.
If it had been anyone else, it would have been sexy. It would have been hot. It would have been sensual.
But this was Kyle Lincke. And he was damn near dry humping me in a dark corner of the gym at our ten-year high school reunion. This was the source of my dirtiest desires being played out in real life. It was a fucking miracle that I didn’t come in my pants right then.
Finally, and yet all too soon, he pulled away, panting heavily. His gaze searched mine before he closed his eyes. He dropped his head and a million thoughts assaulted me. Kyle Lincke, popular class president, everyone’s BFF and my one-time champion was now a mountain man who happened to like pretty boys from LA? My reality was rapidly becoming stranger than the fictional storylines I portrayed on the big and small screens.
A hollow chuckle escaped his swollen lips and he caressed my face with his hot, cinnamon-scented breath. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve waited twelve years to be able to do that and I fucked it up in under five seconds.”
My brain was muddled, lost in the misty haze of lusty desire and the desperate need that Kyle had created in me. I shook my head, trying to find the words to argue. That was not just the kiss of my fantasies, that was the best damn one of my life.
He released me and stepped back. Every inch of my heated flesh cried out at the loss. I wanted the man naked and bent over the sink in the bathroom, not walking away.
He ran his hands over his ruddy face. “It, um… It was good of you to come back to visit, Erik. Don’t forget to pick up your name tag. They’ve been dying for the big star to stop by the welcome desk.”
With that, he turned and retreated through the heavy metal doors and I was left staring after him, wondering what the hell had just happened.
Chapter Two
Kyle
The metallic bang of each strike echoed through the hall as I hit my head on the locker door. “You just fucked that up, asshole.”
That hadn’t been my plan—and I’d sure as hell had one. From the moment Cindy had bopped into the back corner of the bistro where we’d held our committee planning meeting and crowed her delight at having received a ‘yes’ RSVP from our class’s most successful alum, I’d begun plotting.
I’d wasted years in high school dating girls, hiding my truth and being who I was expected to be. More than all that, I regretted never having the courage to be honest with Erik about my feelings…until it had been too late. I had shown up on his doorstep six hours after he’d left our small town for Los Angeles.
But damn, he wasn’t the same guy that had left. His brown hair was now black and slicked back into a fresh, trendy style. His thick brows were contoured to perfection, making his ice-blue eyes even more arresting. The small piercings in his ears completed the transformation and screamed, Too fucking good for you—a phrase that could be used to describe nearly every man I encountered after my ex had left over a year ago.
My stupid heart had believed my ex-boyfriend Marcus had seen something more in me than the social climbing opportunities he was afforded through my colleagues. He had left me too broken for anyone, especially someone of Erik’s stature.
I’d seen everything he’d been in and knew to expect the change, but seeing it in person had been more dramatic than I’d imagined and a far bigger reality check to let me know that my romantic ideations of a fairy tale reunion were about as likely as winning the lottery. Maybe I could still achieve my back-up plan of a hot hook-up?
“Kyle?”
I closed my eyes and a fresh wave of shame rolled over me. Time to buck up, asshole. I peeled my head from the metal of the locker door, mildly disappointed that I hadn’t left a dent with my self-deprecating temper tantrum, and I turned to face Erik.
If I’d thought he’d been gorgeous in the dim lights of the gymnasium, it didn’t hold a candle to him now. Even in the harsh fluorescent lights, his smooth, ivory complexion managed to appear flawless, except for the tinges of pink around his swollen lips from my beard. Heat worked its way up to my cheeks. The kiss I’d spent so many years dreaming of, I’d then forced on him without any thought or concern or—
“Kyle!” He gripped my shoulders and gave them a small shake when he repeated my name, dragging me from my tormenting thoughts.
“Shit. Erik, I-I’m sorry.” I looked to the ceiling, searching for some answer, something to say to get me out of the creep-tastic hole I’d dug for myself by practically assaulting him with my mouth.
Before the perfect answer had a chance to appear, he slid his hands down my arms and wound them around my waist as he curled his mouth into a wicked grin. “I’m only sorry you left so soon.”
My jaw went slack from shock and created the perfect invitation for him. He dropped his mouth onto mine and lined our bodies together, pressing me backward. The chill that made me tremble from head to toe had nothing to do with the cold metal against my spine and everything to do with his tongue, teasing and taunting as he deepened the kiss.
A groan escaped my throat and I toyed with the short hairs at the base of his neck, gripping them tightly. He rolled his hips. The friction of his hardened length against mine through our clothes was delicious and heightened the senses that were already on high alert.
I whimpered as he pushed me harder against the locker and trailed his mouth down my neck. When he began sucking the sensitive flesh exposed by my open collar, my knees buckled beneath me and I gripped his shoulders to prevent a physical manifestation of the puddle of needy goo he was creating in me.
He pulled back, his breathing as labored as mine, and his dilated stare was intent. “You’re gay?”
I rolled my eyes and rubbed my dick against his again. “No, definitely not. You can tell you are having zero effect on my body and you really need to stop.”
He arched one of his pristinely manicured brows and lowered his hand to my ass, squeezing it tightly. “Very funny. On both counts.” He nuzzled against my neck, nipping and licking until I thought I would go insane as he kissed his way up to my ear. “The last thing I want to do is stop, but a bathroom with a lock on it would be helpful for what I have in mind.”
Flattening my palms against his chest, I pressed lightly, mourning the loss of his hot breath against my skin, but desperately needing to look in his eyes. “More? Now? You’re sure?”
He intertwined his fingers through mine, walking backward toward the staircase, nodding with a sexier-than-hell smirk in place. “More. Now. And I am so fucking sure.”
We raced up the linoleum-covered steps and both made a right without any discussion, clearly having the same spot in mind, the second-floor boys’ room at the end of the hall. Every student knew the safe spot for a quick midday hook-up or to share a joint before study hall.
And now I was going there…with Erik Stevens, only a dozen years later than the first time when I had wanted to. Not too shabby.
