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  Kiss Me At Midnight

  A Steamy New Years Eve MM Romance

  Gwen Martin

  Copyright © 2019 by Gwen Martin

  All rights reserved.

  No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author at this website:

  www.gwenmartinauthor.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, companies, locales, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Editor: Emily Verbeek

  Contents

  About the Book

  Kiss Me At Midnight

  The End

  What Happened In Vegas - Information

  What Happened In Vegas - Preview

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Contact and Follow

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Gwen Martin

  About the Book

  Aiden is sick and tired of being bombarded by love everywhere he looks. He begrudgingly attends a New Year's Eve party and is most definitely ready to leave the glitz and glam of Instagram Influencer propaganda behind.

  When a chance meeting leaves him covered in champagne by a handsome stranger named Blake, his night starts to brighten up. Blake's warm smile, smooth talking and killer dance moves loosens Aiden's bitterness to love and opens his heart to help Aiden ring his bell into the new year.

  Kiss Me At Midnight is a steamy New Year's Eve MM romance featuring midnight kisses, the spirit of the season, and a meet-ugly that turns into a sexy countdown to love. This 7,000 word stand-alone short story contains explicit sex and strong language intended for 18+ readers and is set within the same verse as What Happened in Vegas, but can be enjoyed as a stand-alone.

  Kiss Me At Midnight

  Aiden hates parties. Especially parties that make attendees wear a dress shirt. He also hates parties filled to the brim with happy Instagram Influencers and their happy partners, who are also happy getting toasted on their happy party champagne and about to ring in the new year in approximately three happy hours.

  The only reason Aiden agreed to come to this shindig is because of Jesse, and by extension because of Jesse’s boyfriend, Luke. Their YouTube channel has taken off as fast as their relationship.

  Aiden used to tease Jesse every chance he could about Jesse’s second-hand Influencer fame when he was dating his ex-girlfriend Sheila, who made her career out of make-up tutorials on the internet and perfecting the art of the selfie. Aiden never liked Sheila much, but Jesse has changed a lot since he started dating Luke, and Aiden’s thrilled for him.

  The event itself is low-key by industry standards, but Jesse and Luke still rented out a hall and filled it with several hundred people. Aiden doesn’t understand how they know this many people. He thinks most of it is Sheila’s influence more than their own, but who knows. As long as Jesse shows up to his job at the music studio happy and with coffee, Aiden couldn’t care less about their “Instafame”.

  They really did a number, though. The theme is like a winter wonderland, the entire place decked out in silver and white as opposed to the traditional gold and black that Aiden’s seen at other New Years events in previous years.

  He remembers Jesse agonizing about it for weeks, coming into the studio with a permanent furrow on his brow, and voice clipped with stress. That is until Luke would show up, and they’d disappear into the bathroom for about a half-hour, and then Jesse would return relaxed and humming.

  Aiden can take a few educated guesses about what goes down during their little toilet rendezvous. He and Jesse had a short-lived thing a while back that was great for Aiden’s sex life, but terrible for his work life. Jesse and Aiden share the same level of emotional intensity, passion and heart, and while that’s great for creativity, and fantastic for fucking, it’s a disaster elsewhere. So they broke it off as quick as it started, and have been close friends since.

  Someone passing around a tray of drinks walks by and Aiden takes the proffered beverage. The young lady serving is dressed in a short silver cocktail dress that glitters brilliantly off the bright backlight. Her long blonde hair flows down her back in wavy rivulets, and Aiden spends far too much time watching the way her legs move as she shimmies up to a smiling couple who gladly take another round. The couple wrap their arms around each other and sip from their drinks, giggling and kissing sloppily.

  Aiden rolls his eyes and finds somewhere else to stand.

  “There you are!” someone yells behind Aiden as he’s making his way toward one of the short tables filled with food. Aiden stiffens before slowly doing a half turn and then relaxes when he sees that it’s Jesse.

  Even in the dim lighting Jesse’s all sex and swagger. The black slacks and black dress shirt hug his frame, showing off every bit of his body. He’s rolled the sleeves up, and pushed them above the elbow, and his smile is happy. Aiden smiles and waves, nodding his head to the table of food.

  “What do you think of the party?” Jesse asks, leaning close over the loud pumping music. Aiden levels a narrowed stare and Jesse tilts back with a laugh, clapping a hand on Aiden’s shoulder. “I thought you would say that.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Aiden grumbles in response, picking up a plate and assessing his options.

  “Your face said it all, dude.” Jesse shifts on his hip, running a hand through his hair. “I know this stuff is ridiculous but, you know how it goes.”

  “It’s good for business,” Aiden agrees, reaching for a tiny sandwich that doesn’t look obnoxiously uppity. He sniffs it with caution and finally gives it an approving nod. “I understand why you guys do this shit.”

  “And I know how much you hate it.”

  When Aiden shrugs again, Jesse bumps his shoulder with him. “Didn’t bring a date?”

  This time Aiden scoffs a laugh. “Are you serious? You know how it is in this town. LA sucks. You yourself had to literally ask your best friend to be your fake boyfriend for Sheila’s wedding!”

  A wild grin spreads over Jesse’s face. “Yeah, and look at me now.”

  Aiden scoffs again. “Whatever, dude, you looked like a kicked puppy for almost a week when shit went tits up.”

  Nearly a year before, when Sheila married her husband Ross, she and Jesse came to an agreement that, in order to assuage the fanbase they had spent the better part of their relationship together building, Jesse should bring a date to her wedding. After months of trying to find someone, literally anyone, and most of them turning out to be the typical snobby actor type, too young, or too crazy, Jesse took desperate measures by asking Luke to be his fake boyfriend.

  In the end it did work out, and they eventually recognized that they both had it hard for each other; a fact that was obvious from space. Now they work really well together, and Luke always brings him donuts from that awesome bakery he loves whenever he’s blowing Jesse for some afternoon or evening delight. He can’t fault the man for that.

  “Yeah, according to sources you were beside yourself,” Luke says, wrapping an arm around Jesse’s waist. “Apparently you didn’t get out of bed for days.”

  “According to Annelise you didn’t shower for most of that time,” Jesse counters.

  “
It’s true,” Luke says, eyes widened with faux innocence. “It’s a miracle I was able to keep liquids down.”

  “I have a few liquids you can keep down,” Jesse jokes, brushing the tip of his nose against Luke’s jaw.

  Aiden clears his throat, breaking them out of their moment. Luke blinks and then smiles blinding-bright, and yells, “Aiden! So good to see you!”

  “Dude, you totally saw me before,” Aiden says around a mouthful of sandwich.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Luke replies with a sly grin.

  Before Aiden can respond the DJ is calling for Jesse and Luke to come up to the front, saying something about speaking to the audience and thanking everyone for attending their spectacular event. A spotlight starts roving over the floor, looking for the party in question, and Aiden carefully slips out of view.

  Luke laces his fingers with Jesse, widens his eyes, and mouths, “Showtime!” Jesse tilts his head back and laughs, stealing a kiss before they make their way to the stage on the other side of the hall.

  After the perfunctory hellos, and the obligatory name-dropping of the PR company responsible for the event tonight, the party really starts up. Couples begin to infiltrate the dance floor, drinks sloshing everywhere, laughter and screams filling the whole hall. The body heat makes Aiden’s shirt stick uncomfortably against his skin, and he grabs another drink from a server, and heads to the balcony for some fresh air.

  He’s immediately greeted with a cool breeze. Aiden closes his eyes to revel in how the bite of the air feels against his skin. The music thrums through the concrete to the balcony, and the doors rattle from the bass of the DJ inside. Jesse chose a great act, someone that they’ve worked before at the studio who’s a mixture of Tiesto and Steve Aoki before the whole Ibiza deal became his wheelhouse. He loves house music, and usually prefers to listen to it, but right now the nearly packed balcony, the high pitched laughter, and the click of heels is getting on Aiden’s nerves.

  He should probably go home. Aiden’s over the whole party scene, anyway. He’s nearly pushing thirty, and he’s tired. He’s over the falseness of LA, and he just wants to hang out at his apartment, maybe nurse a six-pack and watch something ridiculous on Netflix.

  His best friend Clara would tell him that he’s being a wet towel, and maybe he is, but being boringly single at a huge New Year’s Eve party would put a damper on anyone’s night.

  Aiden is draining the rest of his drink when someone lets out a high-pitched yelp, and suddenly he’s smacked into the stony balustrade in front of him, something wet hitting his forearm. He’s bent over the side a bit from the impact, and he nearly loses his drink to a solid ten stories below, but mercifully he still has the cup in his hand.

  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” some high-pitched woman cries, and when Aiden finally gets a glimpse over his shoulder he’s greeted with a tall brunette, wearing a long white evening gown that looks like it’s been painted onto her body.

  The slit is so high up her thigh, it exposes a bit of hip which makes Aiden question if she’s even able to wear underwear with it. Then some other woman is coming over and sweeping her away, echoing the apology and taking her drink from her.

  From the way the brunette is wobbling in her Louboutins, it’s clear that she’s definitely shit-faced. So Aiden’s been attacked by a drunk girl’s drink.

  Wonderful. Just wonderful.

  He’s definitely too old for this.

  “You alright there?” a deep voice asks. Aiden does a half spin and comes face to face with a man who’s leaning against the balustrade, his messily styled blond hair moving to the side as he tilts his head to look down at the damage of Aiden’s shirt. “I can get that dry cleaned for you if you want. I don’t think she knows how to put two feet in front of each other to save her life, so you’re the innocent bystander to the pileup.”

  Aiden does a quick once over and his mouth grows dry. The man’s dove grey dress pants are pressed with a sharp crease down his leg, and even in the darkness of the night Aiden can see that his black dress shoes are shined. His white dress shirt is undone at the neck revealing a sharp collarbone. His whole outfit is clearly tailored, and it fits against his slim frame in all the right places, leaving very little to the imagination.

  Heat fills in Aiden’s stomach, radiating down to his toes.

  “Or I could replace it?” The man offers, and Aiden blinks several times before he opens his mouth to formulate a sentence.

  “No, uh, it’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, that chick was clearly drunk off her ass and needs to take off those stilettos, but no, you don’t have to pay professionally to get this cleaned. I’ve had it for years.”

  Aiden internally groans. He’s babbling, which is what he does when he’s nervous and his dick is playing tricks on him, because it’s been a long time since he’s had an orgasm that didn’t involve searching the internet for inspiration and his hand.

  The guy next to him chuckles softly and nods in understanding.

  “I get it, man. Trust me, if I had it my way, I would be in a pair of jeans and a band tee, but I’m technically working right now, so I have to look the part.” He lifts a teasing eyebrow. “How’ve I done?”

  Aiden does another visual sweep down, taking his time now that he has permission. He doesn’t know who this guy is, but he’s pretty certain that he’s flirting with him.

  At least he hopes he is.

  He’s not had nearly enough liquid courage for this and is so out of practice. So he taps into his younger twenties’ self, and begs for a little help.

  He begins to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt, rolling up the wet sleeve first and nods approvingly. “Not bad,” he says, taking his time to sweep his eyes up to the other man’s face, focusing on his mouth a bit longer than necessary before settling on his eyes. “Not bad at all.”

  The grin that spreads across the man’s face is sincere and wolfish. Definitely flirting.

  “I’m Blake,” he says, offering a hand and Aiden takes it. It’s warm and smooth to the touch.

  “Aiden.” They continue to shake for a long time, Blake’s eyes focused on Aiden. He feels exposed, and it zips a thrill down his spine.

  Blake leans in a little, the grin growing. “Nice to meet you, Aiden. So are you here for business or pleasure?”

  Aiden huffs a humorless laugh. “Neither, really.” When Blake raises a curious eyebrow he amends, “My friend’s one of the hosts for this fancy shindig.”

  “Ah,” Blake says understandingly. “So which half? Luke or Jesse?”

  “Jesse. We work together at the same studio.”

  Blake snaps a finger in recognition. “I thought so! I didn’t want to make an assumption and then end up being wrong.” He wrinkles his nose in a self-deprecating way. It shouldn’t stir up Aiden’s insides like it does. “LA can be pretty harsh about mistaken identities.”

  “For sure,” Aiden agrees with a smile. “But it’s also really hard to do when everyone looks like a carbon copy of each other. There’s a reason why the eighty Chris’s get the shit they get.”

  At this Blake tilts his head back and laughs, his hand flattening on the balcony to keep his balance. “You have no idea how much of a nightmare that is when you work in Public Relations.”

  “I do work with a lot of entitled musicians on a daily basis, I think I have a fair idea.”

  They continue back and forth like this for a while, and Aiden finds himself relaxing more and more as the night goes on. Blake flicks a finger up at a server, whispers something in her ear and slips her a bill that Aiden’s pretty sure is a fifty, and watches her flick a glance at Aiden with a smile before she disappears. When she returns she’s holding two brightly colored shots that reflect brilliantly off of the lights outside, along with two other drinks on the tray.

  “To a new year,” Blake says before clinking his glass with Aiden’s.

  “A new year.”

  The drink is sugary and bitter but it goes down easi
ly, leaving a lingering taste of citrus in its wake. Aiden finds himself thinking about whether Blake’s tongue would taste the same in his mouth.

  Blake waits for Aiden to place the shot glass back on the server’s tray before handing him one of the drinks that they’ve been passing around all night.

  “What was that?” Aiden asks once he starts to feel the warmth spreading through his whole body.

  “Just a little something I asked Becca to make. I promise it won’t leave you making any mistakes.”

  “I don’t know if you can keep that kind of promise,” Aiden says, with a grin, and Blake chuckles.

  The music shifts inside, and the crowd goes wild. Blake takes another sip of his drink, tilting his head to the inside. “Up for a dance? I really like this song.”

  Blake’s enthusiasm is infectious and Aiden can’t make himself say no. His heart beats faster as he sets his glass down and nods, and when Blake offers his hand he takes it again, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the stupid grin that threatens to spill over.

  The party is in full swing now, the dance floor filled to the brim. Blake weaves through the crowd like he owns it, making a sharp left when someone nearly stumbles into them, and when he finds a perfect spot under the swirling lights, he pulls Aiden towards him so their hips align with each other.

  Aiden slips his thigh between Blake’s, wrapping his arms around his neck. The alcohol is definitely kicking in now, a slow burn that he can feel all the way through his fingertips.

  Blake wraps an arm around Aiden’s waist, moving in time with the music. This is something that Aiden used to do a lot, too, clubbing and dancing. He’s forgotten how much he’s missed this, missed the way another body sways with his, the shuffle of feet bumping into each other.