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Why, Why, Zed?
by Leigh Ellwood

Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Romance
Description: Features graphic M/M sex. A cryptic phone call to Cameron "Zed" Zedmore's cell reveals a plot to steal away Zed's live-in love, Nick. Devastating the thought of infidelity is, Zed realizes he can't blame Nick for being tempted to stray, as Zed's work has kept him in the lab, and out of their bed, for long hours. Nick loves Zed, but isn't crazy about being a "house husband" anymore. He has needs Zed won't meet, and when another friend offers help in that department, Nick is tempted to accept. But then Zed comes home early...
eBook Publisher: Phaze, 2008
eBookwise Release Date: July 2008


50 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [58 KB]
Words: 10672
Reading time: 30-42 min.

"I'm going to steal your lover."

The voice was plain, eliciting, no hint of emotion or malice. The caller could easily have asked for the time of day in that tone.

Zed's fingers suddenly numbed, and his heart melted with one last pound before sagging to the pit of his stomach. His cell phone slid against the layer of sweat coating the side of his face as his BMW convertible idled in the hot sun at Yonge and Wellington. Had he heard the caller right? Was this some sort of prank?

"I beg your pardon?" he asked into the static, willing his ears to tune out the white noise of traffic and the rest of Toronto.

"You heard me, Cameron James Zedmore." The voice, male and now smug, chided Zed with pointed determination. It was not a question, yet Zed felt irritated nonetheless; not to mention uneasy. Few people addressed him by his given name, much less the full one.

Regardless, he had neither the time for nor the inclination toward this type of humor. He wondered briefly if Nick had put somebody up to calling him. Zed had noticed his live-in paramour's recent moodiness. Bored, perhaps, and looking to take a companion into his ennui. He'd never expect Nick would do something so drastic.

"Who is this?" Zed demanded. The lights cycled too quickly for him to make the turn. His car ended up first in line for the next trip, and he jostled the stick shift in frustration.

"Why so huffy, Zed? Miss the light again?"

"What?" Zed straightened in his seat and looked around at the cars either stopped or plowing down the cross street. "How do you know that? Who are you? Where are you?"

"I can tell you where I'm not," the caller said, "and that's in my cherry red Porsche waiting to turn into the Highland Gate Golf Club for an afternoon of neglecting Nick's needs. His are more important than yours."

Cautiously, as though expecting the clubs to rise in rebellion, Zed peered over his shoulder at the black golf bag resting in the back seat.

"No, I'll be in your bed," the caller taunted. "I'll be pounding my nice, thick cock into your lover's ass until he begs me to stop. Although, I doubt he will. It's not like he gets enough of that lately."

"Who the fuck is this?" Anger scorched Zed's face more than the July sun beating on his thinning brown hair. Christ, he could almost make out the caller--that voice sounded so damned familiar--and Nick had so many friends at the gym, the coffeehouse, and other hangouts. What business of it was theirs what he and Nick did?

Furthermore, how dare this person insinuate his relationship with Nick was anything but, ideal? True, he hadn't been home nights lately because of work, but it was because of his progress that he and Nick could afford to live in the affluent Toronto neighborhood of Rosedale. Besides, were Nick feeling slighted for affection, he would have said something to him. Why confide in somebody else when only he could deliver results?

I'll be in your bed ... The crackling silence on the other end of the line bore into his brain, evoking unwanted, erotic images.

Zed checked the line of cars beside him, looking for a last minute, alternate route home, when a calculating chuckle chilled him to the bone. He knew he should hang up, but this mystery kept the phone to his ear like a reluctant masochism.

"I wouldn't do that," the caller advised. "You're better off just playing the round and coming home to your sated boyfriend. You try anything stupid and you'll just waste time, giving me even more time to spend sucking Nick's exquisite cock."

"Like hell you will," in a seething tone.

"Seriously, Zed. You try to cut off that Toyota next to you and you'll be sorry."

Before Zed could ask how the caller knew, a Toyota rumbled in place next to his Porsche, the caller disconnected. Fuck this, tossing the cell to one side. He'd demand answers soon enough, assuming his prankster would be able to speak with Zed's hands around his throat.

For Nick's sake too, there better not be another man at home. After all his years of hard work developing new software for Jurgen Technologies, like hell would another man soil what Zed had earned with his money; his home, his bed ... his Nick.

The light flashed green, and Zed didn't look anywhere but straight ahead, stomping the gas pedal to shoot out of the turn lane and past the car on the right. He was almost to the other side when the Mini Cooper appeared from the lip of Yonge Street and crashed into the passenger side.

The accident did little more than shatter Zed's nerves, but as the scene settled around him, he remembered the caller's prophetic words.

"Nick," he whispered, near wailing. "I'm sorry. Please wait for me."

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