ログインEveryone in town knows Jeffrey Williams—the hometown star who went from small productions to Broadway and television fame. But after years in the spotlight, Jeff has returned home, craving the quiet of familiar streets and the comfort of community theater. Daniel Lewis, the assistant stage manager, never expected his latest show to come with a front-row seat to his longtime crush. Shy, meticulous, and still nursing the wounds of a past relationship, Daniel wants nothing more than to keep his head down and do his job. But when Jeff’s piercing blue eyes land on him, the stage lights aren’t the only thing leaving him breathless. As rehearsals stretch into late nights and the line between performance and reality begins to blur, Jeff and Daniel find themselves drawn into a connection neither of them anticipated. But with gossip swirling backstage, old insecurities rising, and Jeff facing new offers that could pull him away again, both men must decide— is this just a fleeting spotlight romance, or the start of something real when the curtain falls? A heartfelt, slow-burn M/M romance filled with stage banter, stolen glances, and the magic of love found in unexpected places.
もっと見る* Daniel * When I woke up, my dick was as hard as if Jeff hadn't spent half the night impaled on it, milking it of every ounce of cum he could coax out of my overtaxed balls. Jeff was already up and sitting in the window seat, naked, waiting for me. He looked charming and disheveled and very sappy, a doting smile plastered all over his handsome face. I felt a matching smile crawl across my own mouth. Two and a half years on, he could still have that effect on me. I stretched languidly and, I hoped, sensuously. "Come back to bed, Jeff," I coaxed. His penis had stiffened gratifyingly at my little display—as I watched, it pulsed in time to his heartbeat—but he shook his head. "We have breakfast plans, baby," he told me. "Believe me, you make a compelling case for canceling them and spending the rest of the day in bed doing depraved things to that body of yours, but I put a lot of tho
* Jeff * We had barely made it through the front door when Daniel was all over me, sliding his hands up under my shirt and presenting his sweet mouth to be ravished by mine. Perfect. Part of my mind dimly registered that Kevin had followed orders and lit the electric candles scattered around the living room before he tactfully absented himself from the house. The rest of me was fully occupied in reacquainting myself with the man in my arms. God, I had missed my Daniel! When we finally broke from our kiss, he looked around and commented drily, "Do a little decorating while I was away?" "Just wanted to make tonight special, sweetheart," I protested. "It already is, Jeff," he assured me, "even without mood lighting. Now, are you going to ravish me or do I have to beg for it?" I grinned, and hand-in-hand we made our way to the
* Jeff * The world didn't yet know who Daniel J. Lewis was, but it was about to find out. My lover had just made his directorial debut, successfully bringing Ronald Gordon's tragic love trilogy to Austin, Texas in only its second full production. The buzz about the new talent on the scene was already beginning to spread through the theatrical community. And I hadn't been there for it. The trip from discovery to stage for Gordon's plays hadn't been terribly long, all things considered, but a global recession does tend to noticeably reduce the number of theaters willing to take a risk on an unproduced, decades-old play by an unknown author. After months of hunting, begging, and cajoling, Scott had finally lined up a prospect on the East Coast willing to gamble on back-to-back productions of Gordon's masterpiece—the trilogy Lamps by Day, Likeness of a Sigh, and A Grave Man. Scott's charm and persistence had paid off again w
* Daniel * "Are you ready for this, babe?" Jeff looked down at me and squeezed my hand. He wasn't fooling me. He was more nervous about this than I was. "If I'm not now, I never will be," I answered, smiling and, with my free hand, hoisting the potted poinsettia I had brought as a hostess gift. Jeff led me up to the wide, light-festooned porch of his mother's house. The muffled sound of voices and Christmas music drifted out to greet us. Jeff smiled encouragingly at me one last time and rang the doorbell. I was catching on to the game he was playing: The more he worried on my behalf, the less attention he had to spare for his own fears. "It'll be okay, Jeff," I whispered, hoping I was right. There was a sound of hurrying footsteps, and then Judy answered the door. Julie and a man who must have been Julie's husband were hovering close behind. "Welcome, welcome,
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