Citywide Read online

  Riptide Publishing

  PO Box 1537

  Burnsville, NC 28714

  www.riptidepublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All person(s) depicted on the cover are model(s) used for illustrative purposes only.

  Citywide

  Copyright © 2017 by Santino Hassell

  Cover art: L.C. Chase, lcchase.com/design.htm

  Editor: Sarah Lyons

  Layout: L.C. Chase, lcchase.com/design.htm

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher, and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Riptide Publishing at the mailing address above, at Riptidepublishing.com, or at [email protected].

  ISBN: 978-1-62649-663-7

  First edition

  November, 2017

  Also available in paperback:

  ISBN: 978-1-62649-664-4

  ABOUT THE EBOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED:

  We thank you kindly for purchasing this title. Your nonrefundable purchase legally allows you to replicate this file for your own personal reading only, on your own personal computer or device. Unlike paperback books, sharing ebooks is the same as stealing them. Please do not violate the author’s copyright and harm their livelihood by sharing or distributing this book, in part or whole, for a fee or free, without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner. We love that you love to share the things you love, but sharing ebooks—whether with joyous or malicious intent—steals royalties from authors’ pockets and makes it difficult, if not impossible, for them to be able to afford to keep writing the stories you love. Piracy has sent more than one beloved series the way of the dodo. We appreciate your honesty and support.

  A record-breaking heat wave engulfs the Five Boroughs, and emotions run as hot as the temperatures.

  In Rerouted, Chris Mendez is trying to live a drama-free life. That doesn't include another threesome with Jace and Aiden Fairbairn. But then a citywide blackout leaves them trapped together, and Chris is forced to re-examine everything he thought he knew about relationships and his own heart.

  In Gridlocked, former Marine Tonya Maldonado is keeping real estate heiress Meredith Stone on permanent ignore. Mere isn't Tonya’s type. Not even close. Who cares if she kisses like a dream and has the filthiest mouth this side of the East River? But then a security detail at a summer party ends with her saving Mere's life and discovering they have more chemistry than she’d ever imagined.

  In Derailed, Stephanie Quinones escapes the heat and her complicated love life by going on a company retreat. Trouble is, it's a couples’ retreat, and she lied about having a boyfriend. Unfortunately, the only person willing to play pretend is her on-again/off-again fling, Angel León. They’re currently "off again,” but after a week in the woods, Stephanie realizes she wouldn’t mind them being permanently on.

  For everyone who couldn’t get enough of Jaiden and the Queens Crew.

  This anthology is for you!

  About Citywide

  Rerouted

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Gridlocked

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Derailed

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Dear Reader

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Santino Hassell

  About the Author

  More like this

  Being the only computer-savvy person in my squad was starting to get old.

  Don’t get it twisted—computers had been my passion since I was old enough to get my pudgy five-year-old hands on the monstrosity of a computer my father had gifted to my mother one Christmas. I don’t know what he’d pawned or what hustle he’d done to score a machine that, at the time, had run over three grand, but she’d been thrilled. I’d been pretty psyched up too.

  After that, I was balls-deep in computer games by the time EverQuest had come out, and was rebuilding my own machines before most of my friends had internet access in their houses. Which was how I’d turned into the go-to for free IT labor for the past twenty goddamn years when it came to relatives and friends.

  It. Was. Old.

  Especially since it had topped out at a hundred and five degrees today, and the shitty air conditioner in my best friend’s home office wasn’t doing much more than making noise. My entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat despite the ceiling fan lazily swishing above my head.

  I scowled at Raymond’s old-as-fuck HP and the components I’d carefully spread out around me. There was so much wrong with the machine that I didn’t know where to start. It was full of dust, the fan had malfunctioned some time ago, and his motherboard was so dated that it didn’t have the correct slots for the kind of graphics card he wanted. Or enough space for more RAM.

  Sucking my teeth, I jerked a thumb at the machine. “Bro, you’re assed out. You’re going to need to buy an upgraded machine or buy the parts so I can build you one, because you can’t upgrade some shit from 2005 with brand-new parts. The motherboard won’t support them.”

  No response.

  I blew into the tower, sending dust flying, and waved my hand with a cough. “And considering how disrespectfully you treat your shit, I don’t feel like building you a bomb gaming machine just so you can turn it into another dirty piece of junk.”

  No response.

  I glanced up to the sight of Raymond . . . not even in the room. He’d flat left my ass to tinker with his dinosaur. Irritation ran through me as I got to my feet, dusting off my hands, to track my tall, longhaired asshole of a best friend to wherever he’d gone. After his older brother had married and signed over his half of the property, Raymond had taken over the old Rodriguez home with his boyfriend. It looked way different from the dark cluttered place I’d played in as a kid.

  Every time I walked around and peeped at their home office, library, workout room, and attic-turned-library, a twinge of jealousy went through me. Not because I was hating on how well Ray had made out for himself over the past couple of years, but because I still felt stuck. I lived in the same cramped studio above a store on Jamaica Avenue that I’d scored after high school, I drove the same hoopty inherited from my grandfather that was going to break down on me for good any day now, and I had the same lack of a love life. That had all been fine a few years ago, but now I was twenty-seven and frankly . . . ready to move ahead.

  “Ey,” I bellowed, jogging down the stairs. “I swear to God if I walk in on y’all fucking again . . .”

  I had no good follow-up remark for that because I’d been promised some of David’s bomb spaghetti, and I wasn’t leaving until I got fed. Maybe my lack of a fulfilled threat would scare them into compliance. Fear of the unknown, r
ight? Right.

  Following the smell of sautéing garlic and onions, I found my wayward friend and his blond boyfriend in the kitchen. They weren’t having sex, thankfully, but the sight of Raymond pressed against David’s back, nuzzling the side of his face while David chopped vegetables was . . . weird. Not only did David trust Ray to not startle him into lopping off a finger, but it was utterly bizarre to see Raymond so affectionate.

  For all my life, Raymond had been the king of back claps—he’d give me pound as a greeting and goodbye, but no hugs. No mushy shit. But right now? It looked completely natural for him to be glued to his man with that soft smile on his face, like they were made to be in that exact position. And they were also absolutely gorgeous together. David smiling in the deep sunlight of the early evening, and Raymond tall and strong with his long hair once again spilling down his back. It was like a Pinterest photo for relationship goals.

  Something inside of me cracked, just a little, and I backed out of the room. Unfortunately, my sneaker hit the linoleum wrong, eliciting a sharp squeak, and Raymond glanced over his shoulder. His smile morphed into confusion, and ah fuck—I was busted looking all emo again. It’d been happening frequently over the past couple of months. Even more so in the past few weeks, after I’d finally deactivated my profiles on every dating app and deleted them off my phone.

  “Uh, sorry,” I muttered and turned to rush out of the room. I lifted my Yankees cap to swipe my hand over my hair, nervous and suddenly antsy to get out of the house. It wasn’t going to happen, mostly because they would think I was an idiot, but also because I was still banking on dinner and the only food at my crib was allegedly imported ramen.

  Footsteps trailed behind me as I jogged up the stairs to return to their office and Raymond’s busted computer. I plopped down on the floor, fully intending to dive back into the part of my world where things aligned appropriately, clicked together when they were supposed to, and made perfect sense, but David slipped into the room. Which, shit. I could tell Raymond to fuck off and he’d be fine with it because he’d been my boy forever, but I couldn’t be a dick to David.

  “Food almost ready?” I asked, reaching for the canister of air. “Smells good.”

  “Yeah, Stephanie gave me her recipe. I just pretend it’s mine.” David lingered by the door before shuffling closer to me. He sat on the floor, looking half Butler and half Rodriguez in tight shorts, but with a too-big sleeveless Nets jersey and Nike slides. “Are you okay?”

  “Yup.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Definitely sure.”

  David frowned, worrying but not speaking, like he did when he wanted to help but wasn’t sure how. I’d noticed him in this spot a lot since he’d moved in with Raymond. He was constantly surrounded by Raymond’s Queens squad—the friends he’d grown up with in South Jamaica. We’d accepted David into our little crew, adopting him as if he was fam by proximity, but we all saw how careful he was about overstepping. Not wanting to insert himself too deep, or be too opinionated, because he was still finding his place. It drove me and Stephanie nuts, but I thought it was the reason why Tonya and Angel had warmed up to him.

  “All right,” I said, relenting. “I guess seeing everyone be all domestic is starting to get to me.”

  David nodded slowly, those warm brown eyes fixed on me as he probably took apart my statement and put it back together. “Why?”

  “Because I’m always the odd man out? It’s been like this since high school, D. Everyone doing their thing—dating or getting laid—and me with my thumb up my ass flying solo.” I released a humorless chuckle. “You’d think that shit would have changed by now, but it hasn’t.”

  “Why, though? You go on dates. I’ve seen you!”

  It was true. OkCupid and Tinder hadn’t been unkind to me, but one-off dates or random hookups didn’t do it for me. Sure, I’d get laid, but . . . that really wasn’t what I wanted. Anyone could have sex, but sex had nothing on genuine companionship. And I was lonely. I had friends, but there was no one at home waiting for my text or call. No one waiting to light up a room when I walked in.

  My brain flashed two faces in my mind, and a shiver ran through me. Nuh-uh. Off-limits fantasy. I corrected myself without indulging in wishful thing: there was no one waiting for me who would work in the long run. And I wanted a long run.

  “I dunno, man,” I said with a sigh. “Something’s just always missing when I go out with a someone from OkCupid or whatever. I’ll meet a woman who is smart, pretty, ambitious—and we have a good time, but I’m not invested in it because we have no real connection, and I don’t know how to . . . make one happen.” I shrugged, frowning, wishing I could explain it better. “For me, I either click with someone straight off or I don’t. So me dating turns into me buying some woman food and us maybe even sleeping together, but it never goes any further except pointless dates and pointless sex that goes nowhere.”

  David had folded his legs under him and was fanning himself. He sent a glare at the air conditioner, as if noticing for the first time that it wasn’t working. He probably didn’t use the room much. It had Rodriguez Cave written all over it, if I went by the empty energy drink cans and scattered game cases. Also, the giant Puerto Rican flag being used as a curtain.

  “Okay, I’m going to just throw this out there,” he said tactfully. “Have you tried dating a guy?”

  “Uh.” I glanced between him and the door, paranoid. “What do you mean by date?”

  “Well . . . I know you’ve been with guys in the past . . .”

  Jace kissed all over the column jutting between my thighs, showing it a lot of love. The tip of his tongue ran along every vein, traced the slit, and then went down to my balls.

  I bit my fist and kept staring across the room at his husband—Aiden. My gaze flicked to his erection as it pressed against the thigh of his pants. Aiden kept his legs spread wide, obviously enjoying the attention even though he wasn’t touching himself just yet. He seemed to have more interest in watching me contort with pleasure as Jace took me down his throat.

  “Oh, fuck yes,” I breathed. I braced both hands on the back of Jace’s head, gently helping him along as I bucked my hips. “Jesus Christ, you can suck.”

  Across the room, Aiden drained his beer and set the bottle to the side. His gaze was molten, zeroing in on his man slobbering all over the erection between my thighs.

  “Can anyone usually deep-throat that big dick?” he asked, voice hoarse.

  Heat rose to my face. I fought the urge to jump up and flee the room. I had no idea why my friends knew so much about my slew of threesomes with Jace and Aiden Fairbairn, but I equally had no idea why it bothered me that they knew. When it came down to it, most of my friends were queer. Angel was the last hetero hold out. Why did it matter?

  “I’ve only been with Aiden and Jace.” When David just looked at me calmly, waiting for me to add to the statement, my face grew hotter. “There was this other couple I met with . . .”

  He leaned in, immediately intrigued. “Two guys?”

  “No. A man and a woman.” The memory of that crash-and-burn experience still burned with mortification. “They didn’t say they were poly, though. So . . . not like Jace and Aiden.”

  “Oh, so they wanted to try a threesome?”

  “Yeah. Or . . . well . . .” I was pretty sure the exact thing had been her man having some cuckold fantasy. “I dunno, it was a sex thing. We met up a few times, but it was just him watching me and her? It was mad weird and awkward at first, but he seemed to get off on it.”

  “Um. Did you get off on it? Because I always had the feeling that you actually liked being with two people? Not just participating in a voyeur kink.”

  He was right. I’d wanted her husband to participate so we could all enjoy the experience together, but he’d just jacked it and watched. Then one day they’d invited me over while he was drinking, and he’d gotten jealous and flipped. Apparently, I’d worn out my welcome, even though I could
n’t pinpoint when it had happened. From my perspective, one moment we’d all been cool and the next . . . not so cool.

  I didn’t know why I was so embarrassed thinking about it since nothing had actually happened except him asking me to leave, but . . . I couldn’t bring myself to tell David. Maybe because I’d known what they wanted would never replace the connection I’d had with Jace and Aiden the few times we’d slept together after the QFindr modeling shoot, and I’d tried anyway. I was that desperate to replicate the feeling of being wanted and shared by two people.

  “It was okay,” I said finally. “But you’re right, it wasn’t what I wanted.”

  David nodded slowly, frowning. I could tell he had a lot of questions, but he only asked, “Are you open to being with a man?”

  “Yeah? I think. I mean, it can’t just be a sex thing if—” If I spent way too much time over the past year mooning over the what-ifs with two dudes. “—if I’d consider dating them, right?”

  “Do you want to try dating them?” David asked hesitantly. “We can talk about it if you want.”

  My first instinct was to change the subject, but why? If there was anyone safe to discuss this with without sarcasm and the playful joking of friends who’d known me forever, it was D. I stopped pretending to tinker with the computer and leaned against the wall, stretching my legs out in front of me.

  “It’s like this. I’ve always been attracted to women. I always assumed I’d get a girlfriend, fall in love, we’d get married and have a few mini Mendez kids.” I thudded my head against the wall lightly. “But I’ve always been . . . comfortable with admiring a guy’s appearance. Like, Angel and Raymond? As a teen, it was hard not to notice how good-looking they were, although at first I chalked it up to jealousy. It wasn’t until I realized I, uh, didn’t mind looking at their dicks in their basketball shorts, or them all sweaty and shirtless at the park, that I wondered if there was anything else there.”

  “Sounds familiar,” David said, smiling. “Except, for me, I had those thoughts super young. Like when I was in elementary. I thought at first I just wished I looked like the other boys because I was so soft and pretty, and people made fun of me for it.”