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Rough Cut by Vincent Diamond

From Richard Labonte's foreword: …Something else I like about this collection is that all but two of these stories flow one into another, linked by the passage of time, by emotional growth, and by the ebb and flow of homo relationships. They can be read as discrete tales, but it’s wondrously satisfying to read erotic fiction that possesses story-telling heft. And I like the fact that Vincent’s characters aren’t just bawdy, clichéd ciphers having raucous, rowdy sex. They are former cops and ex-cons, an undercover cop sleeping with a suspect, a veterinarian intern and a horse-farm owner – men with real needs, real fears… real lives.

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Excerpt:

Sandy smiled. "Not anymore. We broke up after the accident. Said he couldn't deal with my depression. My 'issues.' Especially the fact that I wasn't trying to resolve them."

"How long has it been?"

"I last saw Gil about fifteen months ago. A friend's funeral down in Tampa."

"And how long has it been since anyone's touched you?"

Sandy shook his head and turned back to the sink. No fair. Tanner stepped closer; the floor creaked as his bulk moved towards Sandy. Sandy felt the hair on his neck rise. When Tanner pressed against him, Sandy fought to stand still. He wanted to run away; he wanted to slap Tanner's face; he wanted to grasp Tanner by the hips and fuck him like a stallion.

Tanner slipped his arms around Sandy's waist and just held him in silence. Sandy dropped his head, kept his eyes on the pan as the water overflowed it. The sink was chipped, he noticed; a gouge of porcelain showing up black against the crisp white.

He felt Tanner's breath against his neck and counted heartbeats.

On ten, I'll turn around, I swear.

As he counted seven, Tanner's lips pressed against him, just beneath his left ear. Tanner's warmth behind him, intimidating and comforting. Sandy remembered Gil caressing him this same way but Gil had been slender as a mantis; Tanner was solid and meaty. Tanner moved slowly, kissing across Sandy’s neck, over his right ear, then against his temple. His deep voice had grown thick. "Take me to bed, Sandy. You need this and so do I."

Sandy gasped sharply at the words. A roiling flush of heat settled in his groin. Sandy turned in his grip, looped one hand around that thick neck, and pulled Tanner to him. At first, he thought his lips were numb, damaged in some way, but it was Tanner's kisses
that were so soft. Sandy pressed harder, greedy. He thumbed open Tanner’s mouth and used his tongue. He heard a strange gasp and realized it was his own throat tightening, his own voice crying out.