“Daddy’s finally ho—oh. Shit. Who are you?” the naked man in the doorway asked.
I repeat…naked man. No clothes. Not a stitch.
He looked to be about my age and height—thirty and six feet tall. But that was where the similarities ended. This guy was built like a brick house. He was tattooed, muscular, and other than the sexy mop on his head, he was completely hairless. Yeah, I checked him out. Hey, I was a hot-blooded, perpetually horny, single gay dude. When a perfect male specimen greeted me with a winning smile and a semi-erect dick, I was bound to notice.
My gaze toured the elaborate web of ink across his chest and the contours of his defined abs before drifting to his thick cock. It hung in that ideal “at the ready” state where one touch from the right partner was all it would take to stoke an inferno. That wasn’t me, I reminded myself, checking the corner of my mouth for drool. I was here on a mission.
Unless…maybe this was a setup. Maybe this was Wyatt’s idea of a housewarming gift. Maybe he’d sent me on a silly errand to lure me to this sexy beast and told him to call me Daddy and—screech.
No way.
Quick reality check. Wyatt was a professional. He didn’t strike me as the type to sweeten a business deal with a congratulatory hunk. He was relatively new to So Cal and was in the process of building his clientele. He didn’t have time for sideshow shenanigans. The guy was all about work and his boyfriend, Jamie. Wyatt wouldn’t hire a neighborhood escort and tell him to call me Daddy. I was no one’s idea of a daddy. Not even my cat’s.
Then there was the issue of timing. I hadn’t said when I’d come by. This naked hottie surely wouldn’t have waited all night for my arrival. And was this Fiona’s ex?
As I completed my third trip visually scanning the stranger’s impressive physique, I met his gaze and saw a medley of emotions cross his face. Surprise, embarrassment, and oddly…a spark of recognition.
“Uh, sorry. I forgot your name. No, wait. It’s Sean, right? I’m here to pick up the color wheel book,” I reported in a steady voice as if nude hotties opened doors for me all the damn time. “It was supposed to be on the porch.”
The naked hottie narrowed his eyes inquisitively. “Hey, I know you. I love Zero. You guys are awesome.”
“Thanks,” I replied lamely before fielding a couple of fan-style questions from a naked man on a cool February evening…as one does.
When was the next album coming out? Any plans to tour? What was it like to work with Justin Cuevas? I nodded pleasantly and responded, “Later this year, yes, great,” noting that his dick hadn’t lost steam. Unreal. I wondered if it was Viagra or if music literally gave him wood. I also couldn’t help thinking Fiona would lose her shit if she knew her ex answered his door naked. Personally, I was more amused than anything, but Ann wouldn’t be and—
Headlights broke through the mist and a moment later, a sleek sports car pulled into the driveway. I turned instinctively, but I couldn’t see the new arrival yet. I pinpointed background noises the way I did when I was working on a guitar lick. Real-life sounds were the ultimate inspiration. Sirens, alarm clocks, crickets…I could make out the lyrics to a Jay-Z remix and what sounded like a dog barking from somewhere in the distance. It sounded chaotic. What the hell had I walked into?
“Oh, fuck. I’m out,” the naked man yelped.
The front door and the car door shut in unison. Now what?
Oh, maybe this was his daddy. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and waited for the figure heading up the pathway to come into view. I’d give this endeavor two more minutes of my life. Rescuing the melting pint of ice cream in my SUV seemed like a safer bet than meeting my kinky neighbors. Although…if I could grab a seat and a spoon and watch the nude dude and his daddy in action, that’d be cool too.
As the tall man, partially hidden in shadow approached, I decided to stick to formalities before asking inappropriate questions. “Hi, there. I’m Johnny Martin. Wyatt sent me to grab his paint color—whoa. Sean?”
“Hi, Johnny. I thought you’d come by earlier.”
“Uh…no,” I replied, blinking in confusion. “You’re—”
“Did you get the book?”
Sean cocked his head curiously as he paused at the bottom of the porch steps, giving me a moment to study him in the light.
Things to know about Sean Gruen: He was a successful businessman in his midforties and a divorced dad with two kids. He owned Vibes, a nightclub in WeHo, and another couple of bars and restaurants in Palm Springs. He was a well-respected philanthropist who raised a ton of money for LGBTQ charities, but he had a reputation for being a no-nonsense ballbuster. He wasn’t the kind of guy who took no for an answer and according to our drummer, Tegan, it was best not to get on Sean’s bad side.