Page 10 of Sour Candy (Sour Candy #1)

The golf ball sailed across the morning sky, sailing down to a rocky stop a few feet from the hole.

“FOOOOORE,” Michael screamed. He turned to Noah, a cocky grin on his tanned face. “Beat that , jackass.”

Noah rolled his eyes as he lined up his shot. He took half-hearted aim, then swung. The ball came to a sad stop next to a lake, an inch away from falling in.

“Oh no,” Noah deadpanned. “Looks like I lost.”

Michael whooped, pumping his golf club in the air. “I’M THE KING OF THE GOLF COURSE!”

Noah let him have his moment. He’d hated golf since their father gave him his first clubs at age five. Michael liked it as long as he was winning. Noah had been all too happy to lose as fast as possible as long as it got him off the damn course.

Michael tossed his golf club at a caddy and headed for the golf cart, slinging an arm around Noah’s shoulder. “I’m glad we got to do this. Feel like we haven’t had a real conversation since Christmas.”

Noah smiled. That had been a good Christmas.

Chinese food and The Muppet Christmas Carol at Michael’s place, lazing around in silk PJs on the couch.

It started as a rebellion to their stiff childhood Christmases with suits at a giant table, but as the years passed, it had turned into something quiet and warm.

It was about the only quiet time Noah had with his brother: Michael had been a whirlwind since they were kids.

For a while, Noah even joined him. But where Noah calmed down, stopped partying so much, started focusing on work, Michael just ratcheted up and up and up .

There had been a brief period where everybody thought he’d settled down with his college girlfriend, but then that had blown up so spectacularly that Michael hadn’t had a serious girlfriend since.

Always parties, always a new girl on his arm.

Noah would’ve worried about him if he weren’t so happy all the time. And it wasn’t like the company was in trouble. Everything was running smoothly, even with Michael missing more than a few important meetings lately.

Michael snickered as he climbed into the driver’s seat of the golf cart. “Shit. Remember that time in college when we drove one of these into that girl’s mailbox?”

“I remember I’m the one who ended up paying for it,” Noah replied. “And only because she chased me down. We ran over her dead grandmother’s dahlias.”

Michael groaned. “Ugh. Never mind, I don’t want to talk to you if you’re getting all boring about it. Look at you, all concerned about some stranger’s fucking garden. It was fun, just say it was fun!”

“Just trying not to be an asshole,” Noah said flatly.

“Boring,” Michael muttered.

Noah’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out, smiling when he saw a text from Benji.

rly sorry about the plug. can’t believe i forgot , it said. An ellipsis popped up, then vanished. Popped up again. Vanished a second time. Noah smirked as he pictured Benji typing, then deleting, then typing again.

A new message came up. ur fault for fucking me so good. jerk.

Noah laughed.

Sorry , he sent back. Hope you can focus. Otherwise, have fun thinking about my cock and trying not to get hard in the middle of class.

Michael made a noise of interest, twisting the steering wheel so hard that Noah almost fell out of the cart.

“What’s that face? Are you seeing someone?”

“No,” Noah replied instantly. Michael had a bad habit of digging up dirt on anyone Noah went on a date with.

Just protecting the family, he always claimed.

Which would’ve been sweet if Noah dated people with dangerous dirt.

But it just led to tense conversations and Noah having to answer bewildered texts from partners about why they were being followed home by a PI.

He didn’t want to saddle Benji with that.

Especially since Benji was in an income bracket that Michael rarely interacted with.

He already knew what Michael would say: that Benji was using him for his money, blah, blah, blah .

Didn’t even like him. Was only tolerating him.

Would screw him over the first chance he got.

Noah understood where he was coming from. Especially after what happened with Michael’s girlfriend in college. But he was a grown ass man. And he’d always been better at reading people than Michael. Benji wasn’t going to take him for a ride.

Noah smiled to himself as the golf cart glided along the paved road.

Benji had taken him so beautifully. Noah couldn’t help but hope he could take even more.

He’d never been able to fully give himself to anyone sexually, let alone emotionally.

He still wasn’t sure about the emotional part, but he had a suspicion that Benji was exactly what he was looking for in bed.

And better yet, that Benji needed it just as much as he did.

He couldn’t get Benji’s amazed face out of his head, like he was shocked his body could take so much pleasure.

Noah wanted to drown him in it.

He was still thinking about Benji when he arrived at work, Tia following him into his office with a clipboard.

“Your ten-thirty called, he has to reschedule for next week,” she reported, adjusting her coke-bottle glasses. “And your favorite vending machine broke; we’re getting it fixed before lunch. And don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily, of course , I’m going to ask about your date.”

Noah sighed, pretending to examine the spreadsheets. “I have a very busy day, Tia.”

“ I have a very busy day ,” she repeated in a falsetto that reminded him so much of Benji he couldn’t help but grin.

Tia made a triumphant noise, glasses slipping down her nose. “Aha! I haven’t seen that grin since you hooked up with that ski instructor last year! How was it? Was he a bitch, like I said?”

“He’s trying to come across as a brat,” Noah replied, smoothing down his tie unnecessarily. “But he’s actually very sweet. Shy.”

“Shy,” Tia repeated dubiously. “The sugar baby is shy ?”

“It’s not an act,” Noah said, defensive.

Tia nodded. It was the same nod she’d given him when he drunkenly told her he could swim across the lake next to the campus in sophomore year. The joke was on her: he actually did it. And he only almost drowned once.

“You sound like Mikey,” he told her.

Tia’s nose scrunched. She had disliked his big brother ever since they met at a frat party Noah dragged her to, back when he was still trying to make Tia fit into his friend group rather than ditching his friend group to hang out with her.

In her defense, Michael had spilled beer all over her shoes and then spent five minutes making fun of her for pronouncing hors d’oeuvres wrong.

“Never mind.” She’d understand if she met Benji. She was even better at reading people than he was. And he was pretty damn good.

“Go away. I have meetings to prepare for.”

She backed off, the wry twist of her mouth letting him know she was nowhere near letting this go. And he’d tell her, eventually. He just wanted to see how it progressed first. If this was going to be something, or if it was going to be a wrong fit like always.

She closed the door behind her. Noah eyed the polished wood, trying to ignore the churning in his stomach.

Benji wasn’t using him only for his money—he’d liked it.

Noah was sure of it. And he could be good for Benji: whip-thin and guarded, so caught up in his head, in his own thick shame.

Getting excited over paltry things like a fancy restaurant or a dom being nice to him. He’d been missing out on so much .

Noah could give that boy what he needed.

It was sleeting when he got back to his apartment. Just a light drizzle, but enough to make Noah pull his scarf tighter around him as he climbed out of the car.

“Thanks, Riona,” he told the driver. Then he frowned.

Benji was standing outside the building. He was shivering, his black curls just as damp as they were this morning. He pulled his hand out of his flimsy jacket to wave. A surge of protectiveness washed over Noah as he saw how red his fingers were from the cold.

“You look freezing ,” Noah said, marching up. “How long have you been waiting?”

“N-not long,” Benji said, such an obvious lie that Noah didn’t bother calling him on it. “C-couldn’t get in the building.”

Noah guided him into the lobby. “I’ll make you a swipe card for next time. I’m sorry, I should’ve considered that.”

Benji shook his head. His hair dripped onto the polished tiles, and he winced.

“Don’t worry about it,” Noah told him. “Come on. Let’s get you dry.”

Benji emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, wrapped in one of Noah’s bathrobes.

“Sorry about the plug,” he said, holding his damp clothes in a bundle against his stomach. “Can’t believe I forgot that.”

“I sterilized it before I left. It’s waiting on the kitchen counter.” Noah cut off the next apology before it could form. “Did you enjoy your pasta as much the second time?”

Benji brightened. “Yeah! There was no one around to grate cheese on it, but I made do.”

“Very brave.”

Benji grinned crookedly. Noah stepped closer, rubbing the thin coat he had bundled in his arms. It was nowhere near thick enough for winter in this city.

Noah added that to his mental list of things he would buy him.

He took the clothes out of Benji’s arms, dropping them in the basket behind the bathroom door despite Benji’s protests.

“I’ll have them dry-cleaned,” he said. “You can borrow some of my clothes until then.”

“Don’t know if I’ll fit into your clothes. You’ve got…” Benji gestured at Noah’s arms, his thick thighs. His teeth sank into his lower lip. “I’m all noodle arms.”

He sucked in a breath as Noah squeezed his forearms gently through the bathrobe.

“We’ll find something,” Noah said, cock already hardening in his briefs as he pictured Benji swimming in one of his shirts. “I missed you.”