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dig a change of clothes out of the duffel he’d thrown on the floor.
    When his phone vibrated he took a peek at the screen. Cary. Heath still wasn’t sure why he’d sent the first text. People usually came to him. And he was particularly annoyed at the smile he couldn’t seem to stop from forming—not wanting to study that reaction very closely.
    Yeah, I think I can get away.
    Heath shot off a quick response— Don’t sound so excited, man— before heading for that shower. His cock was hard just thinking about what he and Cary would get up to. The urge to jack off was strong, the lust overpowering. He was practically ready to burst like an untouched virgin. He couldn’t shake the strong reaction his body had to the man, though.
    It’s not like Heath hadn’t been with other men before. Quite the contrary. He’d been with guys in high school. Then after his divorce his twenty-three year old hormones had been set free and he’d sowed many a wild oat since then, though no more than many of his friends. He just had a bigger “dating pool”. He’d had fantastic sex with a couple of people at this point, one or two even had him coming back for months on end—a major rarity when he’d been younger. But Cary.
    Cary seemed to possess every physical trait Heath could think of to push his buttons. The man had the roundest ass Heath had ever laid hands on, a face that was the perfect mix of pretty and handsome, and long lean lines made up his gracefully toned physique. Then there was the man himself. He was a little shy but in a way that seemed he was more humble than actually timid. He was funny as hell, and get the man in bed with a hand around his cock and he was a wild cat.
    “ Fuck,” Heath groaned, banging his forehead against the shower wall. He couldn’t stop his runaway thoughts. He kept trying to remind himself he has a kid, you hate kids, and you’ve been married once and almost fucked up one of the best friendships you ever had. He couldn’t even necessarily say Cary was a friend, but Heath didn’t balk at the idea of being friends with Cary. But what about Cary? Could he handle that Heath was never going to want to get married, probably wouldn’t ever want to be in something that resembled much of a relationship? He could be faithful to one fuck buddy, he didn’t require either multiple partners or sex five days a week. He wasn't twenty-five any more. And he wasn’t a man whore, but he didn’t do relationships per se. He was more of a fling kinda guy. Especially with men. He couldn’t exactly have an open relationship with one, at least not until he was able to quit working on the rigs.
Of course he wouldn’t complain about coming home to that tight ass.
    “ You’re fucking losing it,” he said to himself, gripping his cock and giving it a few strokes. He needed to get out of the shower or he’d give in and get off before even seeing Cary.
    After drying himself and pulling on a pair of sweat shorts, he checked his phone again. He would be a dog today, though. He was almost uncomfortably horny and had been for weeks. He’d turned down a couple of roughneck groupies when they’d tried to pick up him and some of the guys when they’d gotten back ashore and hit a bar in Texas the night before. He’d had Cary on the brain but he wouldn’t be offended if the guy’d intended it to just be a one-off. He could always hit up someone else. It was a Saturday night after all.
    Sorry. Had to check with sitter.
    Um. That was a bit of a mood killer. Not a problem.
    I can come for a bit. If that’s still cool.
    Bingo. He shot off his address and got a response that Cary’d be around in an hour. That’d do. He went for a beer from the fridge and was glad to see either Kyle or Becca had obviously been by and restocked—they helped drink more of it than he did after all. He putzed around checking little things on the yacht, had another beer or two and set out condoms and lube.
    Almost an hour to the