"Damn, baby. You're the hottest fucking thing in this place."
Frankie laughed and leaned back into the tall muscular body behind him, wiggling his hips against the hard cock he could feel pressing into his ass. There were a lot of hotter looking guys in the club than him, but Frankie was glad his lover thought he was the sexiest.
Holding Roark's interest was at the top of Frankie's priority list.
Detective Anthony Roark was a walking wet dream, and Frankie was just lucky enough to be the man the detective was interested in. How that had come about, Frankie would never know, but he also wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If Roark wanted him, the handsome man could have him—for as long as he wanted.
Frankie stifled a groan when he felt Roark's hands move down his chest to grab his hips. Roark was driving him nuts, and had been for hours. Apparently, the man was on a mission to see how long Frankie could hold out before attacking him.
It wouldn't be long.
They had been dancing for the past two hours. And that was after going out to a romantic dinner together. Frankie knew that they were celebrating their one year anniversary. He just hadn't known that Roark would remember it. Most guys didn't.
After all of the years Frankie had spent trying to find Mr. Right, the sexy detective had fallen into his lap—literally.
Roark had been shot on the job, trying to apprehend a suspect in a bank robbery. He had ended up in Frankie's emergency room. Frankie had gone into the exam room to take Roark's vitals and the man had tried to sit up and almost fallen off the bed. Frankie had rushed forward and caught the detective before he could hit the floor.
Frankie was always a little confused about what had prompted Roark to pursue him. He was a male nurse, and worked a lot of long hours. He didn't have a ton of friends, but a few, but he also wasn't a party animal or someone that slept around.
Of course, he had been hit on before and tried to keep things professional between him and Roark, assuming the guy was either high on pain meds or looking for a quick piece of ass. Not too many men that looked like the detective tried to date Frankie.
Roark had seemed to be on a mission though. He started coming by the emergency room more and more often, always searching Frankie out. After one night when he dropped by the ER to see Frankie, he had cornered him in one of the exam rooms. After kissing Frankie until his head spun, Roark had stolen his cell phone and erased every damn number in there before programming his number in under boyfriend.
Frankie had been pissed for days, and then amused when Roark started dropping by more and more often, sometimes bringing Frankie dinner. Other times, Roark just brought him flowers. After four weeks of constant attention, and some good natured razzing from his friends, Frankie had finally given in and agreed to go out on a date with Roark.
The rest was history.
They had dated for the last year and now they were celebrating. Frankie was pretty sure that Roark was going to ask him to move in. At least, that's what he was hoping would happen. As it was, he spent more time at Roark's house than he did his own. It only made sense that they would share an apartment together.
And Frankie had no reservations about saying yes. He loved Roark and he knew Roark loved him. They spent all of their free time together and had been a public item to their friends and co-workers for over six months. It was time to move their relationship to the next level.
"We should head home pretty soon, baby," Roark murmured into Frankie's ear. Frankie grinned when Roark squeezed his ass. "I want a piece of this tight little ass before the clock strikes midnight."
Frankie tilted his head back to peer up into Roark's smoky grey eyes. "Afraid I'll turn into a pumpkin?"
Roark's eyes twinkled in the flashing lights hanging over the dance floor. "Na uh, my fairy godmother promised me that the handsome prince would be mine as long as I claimed him by midnight."
Roark was a dork, but gods, he was Frankie's dork. Frankie grinned and grabbed Roark's hand as he started backing off the dance floor, bumping into more than one person along the way.
"Then I guess we'd better get going before my—ouch." Frankie frowned as he grabbed his arm right where it met his shoulder. That had hurt. He felt like something had poked him but…"Oh, I don't feel so good."
Frankie grabbed his head as his vision suddenly started to blur. His stomach was clenching, trying to rebel. He thought he might actually be sick.
"Roark, I don't—" Frankie's tongue felt like it was swelling in his mouth, making it hard to talk. He slapped his hand over his mouth when his gums started to throb. What the fuck was happening to him?
"Frankie, what's wrong?"
Frankie tried to lift his eyes to see Roark. The man sounded frantic. But his eyelids felt so heavy. It was an effort to keep them open at all, not that it did him much good. He could barely see out of them as it was. Everything was going hazy and dark, almost a deep grey color.
"Ro-Roark!" Frankie tried to scream but all he heard was a desperate whimper come out of his mouth as his legs gave out beneath him and he started to slide to the floor. He felt someone catch him and he was pretty sure it was Roark, but he couldn't be positive.
"Frankie, baby, come on. You can't leave me." Roark's voice had taken on a desperate pitch. "Frankie?"
"Roark," Frankie whispered as his head rolled back on the man's arm. "I…what…"
Frankie heard Roark's cries as his vision darkened. He tried to lift his hand to caress his lover's cheek but his arms felt like dead weight, like they were filled with lead. He barely had enough strength to continue breathing.
"Frankie! Frankie, baby," Roark cried out. "Come on, Frankie. Open your eyes. Come back to me. Frankie!"