“Dance with me.”

The soft sultry words danced over Drew’s skin like fireflies in moonlight. He leaned back against his lover, the man’s hard muscles rigid and firm against his back as he swayed gently to music only they could hear.

He felt uneven breathing on his cheek, a hardness pressing against his ass as his lover held him close. Drew closed his eyes and savored the feeling of the arms holding him close, the man that owned him heart and soul.

A thick arm wrapped around him, offering him the comfort of his lover’s body. A hand brushed through Drew’s silky strands as his temple was kissed, words of tenderness and affection murmured against his skin.

Drew’s skin tingled where his lover touched him, drawing a deep moan of pleasure from him. He was addicted to his lover’s touch, his thick muscular frame and wide shoulders, the way his powerful well-muscled body moved with such easy grace. He had a ruggedness and vital power that attracted Drew from the very instant their eyes met over a crowded bar.

A hand roughened and callused from hard work gently gripped Drew’s chin, tilting his head back until firm lips could cover his. The caress of lips on Drew’s mouth and the longing in his body set him aflame.

The hands gently caressing his body were beautiful, long-fingered, and strong. They gave Drew a sense of protection from the outside world, and yet they brought him so much pleasure that he reeled every time he felt their sweet touch. He was a beautiful, strong, powerful man, and he wanted Drew.

He towered over other men by several inches, easily spotted in any crowd. He carried himself with a commanding air of self-confidence that drew the eye of everyone around him. Men and women vied for his attention.

And yet, he picked Drew.

Drew would never understand how he ended up being chosen by the handsome, virile man behind him, but he would forever be grateful. He had never been happier than he had in the months since he met his lover.

Time had stood still. It was like the world around them stopped moving just to stare at the lovers. They moved together in perfect harmony, each man knowing what would please the other and wanting nothing more than their complete happiness.

It was pure bliss, a dream that Drew never wanted to wake from.

“The phone, Drew.”

Drew laughed as he pressed further back against his lover. He had no intention of bursting his pleasure filled bubble by answering the damn phone. “Let it ring,” he murmured as he turned his head and pressed his lips against his lover’s salty skin.  “The answering machine will get it.”

“The phone, Drew!”

Drew frowned at the more aggressive tone. It wasn’t like his lover to use that deep, assertive tone with him. He was always gentle when speaking to Drew.

“Damn it, Andrew! Answer the freaking phone!”

Drew’s pleasure filled haze was shattered as he opened his eyes and realized he stood in his kitchen all alone, no lover wrapped around him, touching him, caressing him…loving him.

He stumbled in his haste to grab onto the kitchen counter before he collapsed to the floor, the memories of what he had had and what he had lost drawing every last bit of strength from his body. He leaned against the counter, burying his face in his hands, his despair so heavy it almost pulled him under into the abyss.

“Fuck, Drew. Is there some damn reason you couldn’t answer the phone?” Sam asked as he stomped into the kitchen and grabbed the phone of the hook, one hand holding his pants up. “A guy can’t even take a piss around here without the damn thing ringing off the hook.”

Drew blinked, his emotions still chaotic and muddled.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Hello?”

Needing to feel numb again, Drew scrambled to open the cupboard above the stove and grab the bottle of whiskey he kept there. He started to twist the lid off of the bottle when Sam reached over and snagged it right out of his hands.

“Hey!”

“Yes, that will be fine,” Sam said into the phone as he rolled his eyes and poured the alcohol down the sink. “We’ll see you at eight then. Goodbye.”  Sam hung up the phone and tossed the empty liquor bottle into the trash at the same time, and then he turned to glare at Drew. “You do not need to get drunk—again.”

“Sam—”

“No!” Sam held up his hand, stopping Drew, his eyes narrowed in anger. “I’ve seen you drunk enough in the last few months to last me a lifetime. It’s going to stop, Drew.”

“Sam—”

Again, Sam held up his hand. “No, Drew. It’s stops now.”

Drew’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t intend to get drunk. I just—” He shrugged because he really didn’t have words to explain why he had been drinking so much. It wasn’t as if he wanted to become an alcoholic.

There were just times when the memories became too much and he needed to get away from them…or move closer to them. He was never quite sure what would happen when he started drinking. Either he would forget his lover ever existed or drown in memories of him.

Both tore at Drew’s soul.