DECEMBER 2008

“Uh, Ilya Rozanov? Shane Hollander.” He stuck out his hand awkwardly. It took a few moments, but his Russian opponent shook it eventually.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be smoking here.

He wasn’t a fan of Ilya’s snarky response.

It was.. uncomfortable, yes. He was clearly talking in a language that the Russian didn’t understand too well. He rocked on his feet for a moment, trying to think of something else to say.

“Well, good luck, huh? It should be a fun game.”

Ilya didn’t respond the way that Shane believed he would.

Ilya was bold. Shane had discovered that, and his sexuality (sort of), after accidentally getting a boner in the shower with fucking Ilya Rozanov. He never meant to, but he couldn’t tear his gaze off that mans body. He had always heard Russian’s had amazing bodies, amazing sex, amazing everything.

And it was true.

What he hadn’t heard, is that they were gay. Okay, maybe not gay. Maybe Ilya occasionally jerked off to men, so what? Well.. so what, because he jerked off in front of Shane, while staring at him. He even eyed Shane’s boner (and his ass). Ilya had an even better one, though. Fuck, he had an amazing ass, actually.

And now Shane was having a panic attack. Why? Because Ilya invited himself up to Shane’s hotel room. Of course, Shane reluctantly (easily) gave over his room number, but what else was he supposed to do? Not tell Ilya?

Fuck.

Oh god.. he hopes that isn’t what the Russian plans to do.