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to operate the game controller, so different from the one at the mall. A spicy, woodsy scent filled his nostrils, invoking visions of Garret laid out on his bed, wearing nothing but that A Lie I Can Live With - 38
    fragrance. His custom surround-sound provided a sensual background track, some singer he didn't know crooning, "I've found someone..."
    After a few false starts, Garret developed some skill with the controller, though he didn't come close to beating a master like Otis. They polished off the first bottle of wine and started on a second, sending both inhibitions and motor control flying out the window.
    A few glasses and more lost hand/eye coordination later, Garret suggested with an exaggerated leer, "Why don't we up the stakes?"
    "Errr… How so?"
    Garret waggled his brows. "Ever play strip poker?"
    "Wwwhhha… whaaa… what?" Oh my God, oh my God! Did he say strip poker?
    "In this case, better make that strip video game."
    Garret flashed a sexy smirk.
    Taking a healthy sip of wine and barely succeeding in not choking, Otis replied, "You're on," wondering at what point in the unveiling Garret would leave.
    To even the playing field, Otis decided to throw a few games, being a gentleman and dying to get naked with Garret. Through triumphs and defeats, Garret never touched him, never even looked at Otis with intent, or wrinkled his brow when yet another hairy body part appeared unobstructed.
    Garret unveiled his own body one small bit of skin at a time, biting his lip when he removed his shirt. A light dusting of hair graced two firm pecs. He seemed almost shy, averting his eyes while peeling off his jeans. What did he have to be nervous about? The man's chiseled body belonged on display in a museum somewhere.
    When they'd both been reduced to only wearing their boxers, Garret froze, gazing at Otis full on for the first time. A mixture of lust and appreciation washed over his A Lie I Can Live With - 39
    face. "I've got a better game we can play." Evil aliens forgotten, Garret tossed the controller carelessly aside to brace Otis' cheeks between his hands. As though in slow motion his full lips descended, touching softly, retreating, then coming back for more. For all the heat between them, Garret remained gentle, his tongue-tip teasing, coaxing Otis' lips to part.
    Slow torture ensued, the kiss light and exploring.
    Whenever Otis tried to deepen the contact, Garret retreated. "Uh, uh, uh," he scolded, finger waggling.
    "Patience is a virtue." He maintained total control, catching Otis off guard with the sheer sensuality of the unhurried play of tongues. Liquid fire settled in his groin, taking his breath and all rational thought. In a heady rush that robbed Otis' senses, Garret laid him back on the couch, slowly sliding off his boxers. His cock stood proud and tall against his belly.
    Garret's lips trailed along Otis' chest, neck, ears, all with the same excruciatingly deliberate calm that Otis feared would soon drive him mad with need. Garret stepped back, eyes roaming over Otis' body. Otis sought to hide his imperfections by rolling to his side and covering his pudge with his hands.
    "Don't do that," Garret scolded softly, gently pulling Otis' hands apart. His smoldering gaze caught Otis by surprise. That apparent wonderment couldn't be for real, could it? Could it? "You may not believe me," Garret said, voice a husky murmur, "but I think you're perfect."
    Still wondering what in the world a superior specimen of masculinity like Garret wanted with him (he hadn't drunk that much, had he?), Otis gulped and nodded, still disbelieving, but deciding to run with it. He watched, fascinated, as Garret's fingers skimmed over the slight bulge of his belly.
    A Lie I Can Live With - 40
    Garret shed his boxers at a languid pace. Otis' eyes met Garret's and saw a surprising flash of uncertainty. It was gone in a heartbeat, replaced by a clear challenge.
    Otis sat upright, tentatively caressing a set of firm abs, softened to just