by K. C. Wells
Brady snorted. “That actually doesn’t help. I spent most of my time in the locker room trying to peek at Chase Garton without him realizing I was doing it.”
“Chase Garton?”
Brady sighed. “My first crush.” It didn’t help matters that he was having this conversation with his current crush, except part of him knew Phil was right—he’d passed crush a while back.
“Did anything every happen between you?” Jordan asked as he took off his jacket, loosened and removed his tie, then unbuttoned his shirt. Trying his best not to stare, Brady busied himself with the removal of his bow tie, but his fingers and thumbs had other ideas. He envied Jordan his calm, unruffled state.
“Unfortunately not. Chase only had eyes for Amanda Pettifer at the time. I doubt I even registered on his radar.”
“Nothing so sad as unrequited love.” Jordan slipped off his shoes, socks, and pants, pausing when all that remained were his black briefs.
Brady chose that moment to gaze at a print on the wall while he finished undressing. He was not about to turn around, not while there was the remotest possibility of coming face-to-face with Jordan’s dick. Keeping his back to Jordan, he quickly removed his boxers and grabbed one of the towels—and froze as his fingers met Jordan’s.
“Here, you take that one.” Jordan handed him the top towel.
Brady couldn’t help himself. He took the towel, his gaze drifting down Jordan’s firm torso, noting the hair that covered his chest, growing sparser as it reached his navel, forming a dark trail that led down to his dick—his half-hard dick, springing from a nest of tight curls, his body hair covering his thighs in a soft-looking down.
A fully clothed Jordan was a sight to behold. Naked Jordan was just… beautiful.
Brady averted his gaze, unfolded the wide towel, and wrapped it around himself. “Ready.” He was dismayed that the word popped out as a croak.
The gleam in Jordan’s eyes could have been amusement. “You get Dominic, so you’re through there,” he said, pointing to another door. “I’ll see you later.”
Brady walked out of the changing room, to where a man dressed in black pants and a tee awaited him. He gestured to the table. “Good afternoon. Hop up onto the table under your towel please.” He gave Brady a polite smile. “Have you ever had a massage before?”
Brady shook his head. “Although I’ve heard Jordan speak enough times about Shawn’s technique.” He removed his towel and climbed onto the table, facedown, arranging the towel to cover his butt.
Dominic snickered. “Yeah, Jordan likes to really feel it. I won’t be giving you the same treatment, unless you specifically ask for it.” He stepped closer, holding a bowl containing what looked like wipes. “I’m going to cleanse the skin first, then apply the exfoliating scrub all over. I’ll massage it into the skin, and it’ll feel a little gritty. Once that’s done, I’ll remove all traces of it, and then I’ll do a full-body massage. I don’t usually use the scrub on the chest area, but I will have you roll over and continue the massage. By the end of it, you should feel relaxed and soothed. Have you had an exfoliating treatment before?”
Brady smiled. “We’re talking total newbie here.”
Dominic grinned. “You’ll love it.”
Brady pressed his face into the padded hole, and seconds later, Dominic wiped over his back. The scrub was indeed gritty, and Dominic rubbed over the skin in slow circles. It was strangely soothing, and Brady lost himself in the sensations. The air was filled with a pleasant perfume, and soft music played in the background. All in all, it was a very sensual experience, and Brady could understand why Jordan liked it.
Brady caught a low groan from the other room, and Dominic snickered. “Looks like Shawn found a knot.”
Brady was about to speak when Dominic removed the towel and began massaging his ass with firm strokes. Brady let out a tiny squeak, but Dominic had already moved on, stroking down the back of his thighs with strong, capable fingers. When it was time to remove the last traces of the scrub, Brady was well and truly at ease, his body limp beneath Dominic’s experienced hands.
The massage was amazing. Subtle aromas reached his nostrils as Dominic manipulated his back muscles. Brady winced slightly when Dominic kneaded his shoulders.
“That’s where your tension collects,” Dominic told him. “Here and in your neck muscles. Shena gives a fantastic head and neck massage that will really help. You could do with a regular shoulder rub to keep loosened up.”
The only problem Brady could see with that idea was that there was no one to administer it. He smiled to himself. “Hey, Jordan, here’s an idea,” he shouted out. “We turn one of the offices into a massage therapy room, and you employ a masseur on a permanent basis. The staff would love it.”
Jordan’s snort was audible. “Mm-hmm. And they’d spend more time in the therapy room than at their desks,” he hollered back.
He had a point. Brady could already see himself booking another appointment. Not often, but now and again, when he needed to de-stress.
“Okay, roll over onto your back.”
Brady did as instructed. He closed his eyes, trying not to imagine how Jordan looked right then, his body glistening with oil while Shawn’s hands moved over Jordan’s chest and belly. He tried not to imagine Jordan’s butt, firm and round, covered with the same soft-looking down as his thighs.
Why do I have to have such a good imagination?
A cough brought him sharply into the moment. Dominic was gazing at him, his eyebrows arched slightly, his lips twitching. “Well? Was I right?”
Brady smiled. “Yeah, you were right. I love this.” He was grateful Dominic had replaced his towel. Whether his dick was reacting to his imagination or to Dominic’s sensual massage, Brady wasn’t entirely certain, but he was glad Jordan couldn’t see the result.
“You’ve gone quiet,” Jordan called out. He sounded totally relaxed.
Brady chuckled. “Shh. I’m enjoying this.”
“I’m glad.” There was a pause. “Maybe we should make this a regular thing. You need to take time to relax too. You work very hard.”
Above him, Dominic chuckled. “Look who’s talking,” he murmured.
Brady liked that. Then he remembered Jordan had been speaking to him. “I like the way you look after your staff,” he called out with a sigh.
Jordan chuckled. “You’re the only one I’m bringing here.”
Brady liked that even more.
BRADY stared at his reflection. His hair, usually long on top and swept back, had been shortened, and Matt had shaved the sides and back. It wasn’t that drastic a change, and yet Brady hardly recognized himself. It was a sleek, fashionable Brady who stared back at him, with the smoothest jaw Brady had ever experienced. Shena was finishing his manicure, while Debra massaged his other hand.
“So which was your favorite part?” Jordan sat in the chair next to his, while Matt snipped at his hair. Jordan chuckled. “I still think you should have gone for the fish.”
Brady shuddered. Even the idea of having fish nibbling at his feet sent shivers through him. “Thank you, but no. I’ll stick with the old-fashioned way.” He’d enjoyed sitting there with his feet immersed in bubbling warm water, with a glass of champagne on the wide arm of the chair. A thought struck him. “Wait a minute. I didn’t see a fish pedicure on the menu. I only found out they do that here because you told me they—” He glared at Jordan. “You made that up, didn’t you?”
Jordan chuckled again. “It was certainly entertaining, watching your reaction. Nearly as entertaining as the foot rub. You nearly hit the ceiling when she tried to massage your arches.”
“I can’t help it if I’m ticklish,” Brady remonstrated. He had to admit, however, that he was incredibly relaxed. “I think the massage was the best part.” Then he recalled his reaction. “Although you might have warned me. I had no idea he was going to massage my butt.”
Jordan coughed. “Ah. Well. They do that when you remove your underwe
ar. They assume you’re okay with it.”
Brady opened his eyes wide. “And you didn’t think to mention this while we were undressing?”
Jordan smirked. “Of course not. It was more entertaining that way.”
Brady rolled his eyes.
“I was serious, by the way,” Jordan said. “I know I come here once a month—you should join me. No work talk, just the pair of us being pampered, pummeled, and primped.”
Brady really liked that idea. “I’ve checked the weather report for the weekend. No rain forecast, but it’ll be cold.”
Jordan smiled. “I’ll bet you’ve already emailed Donna to make sure she packs sweaters.”
Brady laughed. “This morning.” His heartbeat sped up at the thought of spending a whole weekend in Jordan’s company. He hadn’t packed yet—that was his task when he got home.
“Brady… thanks again.”
Brady frowned. “For what?”
“Agreeing to do this. You didn’t have to say yes, just because I’m your boss.”
He smiled. “If I didn’t want to go, I’d have said so. I’m looking forward to it, to be honest.” Except what came to mind was Phil’s suggestion. Brady still didn’t know if he’d have the nerve to say anything, should the occasion arise.
Let’s just play this by ear.
Chapter Thirteen
JORDAN was about to message Brady to tell him the car was parked outside his building when the front door opened and he appeared. Jordan caught his breath at the sight. Brady wore the leather biker jacket and black jeans, but what struck Jordan immediately was the absence of glasses.
He looked… amazing.
Brady approached the car, carrying a small suitcase and suit bag. He smiled as Jordan opened the rear car door. “Right on time.” The driver got out to take his bags, and Brady climbed into the back beside Jordan. “So… do I pass?”
Jordan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Brady was an attractive guy, but the total effect gave him a whole new look. Jordan cocked his head to one side. “Contacts?”
Brady nodded. “I figured it was about time I wore them. I mean, what’s the point of buying them if I don’t get any use out of them?” He blinked a couple of times. “I’ve had these in for about two hours, and so far, so good. I don’t suppose I look all that different without the glasses.”
Jordan would have to disagree. Brady looked gorgeous.
He cleared his throat. “You definitely pass,” he said at last. “I like the look. Not that I dislike the glasses, you understand, but this is… different.”
Brady’s shy smile lit up his eyes. “Thank you. I didn’t want to let you down.”
Jordan sighed. “Like I said before—there’s no way you could ever do that. Just… be yourself.”
The driver got back into the car, and they pulled away from the curb.
Brady shook his head. “Is it weird that I feel like I’m playing hooky? I swear, you’re a bad influence. Shopping trips, spa afternoons, now this party….” He grinned. “No one would think you had a business to run.”
“Speaking of which….” Jordan gave him a hard stare. “No work talk this weekend. We’re going to relax and enjoy ourselves. And that’s an order.”
Brady gave a mini salute. “Yes, sir. And before you ask, that’s the last time I’ll say the word.” He leaned back, his head supported by the leather rest as he gazed out at the passing scenery.
Jordan had to fight hard not to stare. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. He’d certainly struggled to keep his gaze off Brady while they’d changed out of their clothes. With each passing day, he saw more and more of the man who’d remained hidden from his sight for so long.
How did I miss him?
Jordan had no clue, but the idea of spending more time getting to know Brady was very pleasant indeed.
JORDAN chuckled. “Huckleberry Lane. It conjures up an image of quaint houses, don’t you think?”
Brady stared out of the car window. “I don’t think any of these could be described as ‘quaint.’”
Jordan had to agree. So far, the estate seemed to comprise very large, free-standing townhouses with huge front lawns and long, snaking driveways. Drake’s house was no different. Its pale blue clapboard exterior and vaulted roof gave it an imposing air. Already, four or five cars filled the gravel drive, spreading out along the lane.
Jordan found a space and parked. He switched off the engine and peered through the windshield at the house. “It is beautiful.” He liked the triangular window that followed the line of the roof.
They got out of the car and walked around to the trunk to collect their bags. Brady glanced toward the house. “It looks like quite a few guests are already here.”
“I know I should have asked before, but what did you send Drake and Belinda as their anniversary gift?”
Brady smiled as they approached the house. “You sent a flower arrangement and a bottle of vintage champagne—2002, bottled the same year they got married.”
Jordan shook his head. “You’re amazing. What would I do without you?” And I hope I never have to find out. It was a situation he did not want to contemplate.
“It seemed an appropriate gift,” Brady said with a shrug.
On impulse, Jordan seized his hand and squeezed it. “It was perfect.” He didn’t want to relinquish his hold of Brady’s hand, and Brady didn’t try to pull free of his grasp. “And before we get in there, can I just say….” Jordan was suddenly lost for words. He desperately wanted to convey his gratitude, his reassurance that it was going to be okay, that Brady would make him proud if he were standing there in his usual office attire, but his throat tightened at the sight of Brady’s earnest expression.
His heartbeat stuttered when Brady leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Jordan? Ring the bell?” It was as if Brady, too, was struggling to find the words. The simple yet intimate gesture said enough.
Before Jordan could raise his hand to the bell, the front door opened and Belinda stood there in a dark blue dress, with a simple string of pearls around her neck. “Jordan. It’s been far too long.” When they stepped inside and she closed the door, Belinda seized Jordan in a warm hug. “It’s good to see you.” She released him and turned to Brady, her hand outstretched. “Hi, I’m Belinda Daniels. I’m so glad you could join us this weekend.”
“Brady Donovan. And thank you for having me.”
Belinda smiled. “Any friend of Jordan’s is welcome here.” She returned her attention to Jordan. “Thank you for the beautiful flowers, by the way. And that champagne was inspired!”
Jordan smiled. “I’m glad you liked them. Happy anniversary.”
Belinda beamed. “I have so been looking forward to this weekend. I was delighted when Drake told me you could make it.” She glanced in Brady’s direction. “I’m even happier that you brought a guest. Here, give me your jackets. Then I’ll show you to your room.”
Jordan gazed at the hallway, with its high, sloping ceiling, sunlight pouring in through the skylight above their heads. “Belinda, this is beautiful.” Two antique dressers stood against one wall, and a low, long bookcase stood against the other. Above it were three watercolor paintings depicting various coastal scenes. The hallway opened out into another room, also light and airy, from which came the chatter of voices and the sound of music.
Belinda’s face glowed. “We like it. The kids love the backyard and the pool, that’s for sure. They can’t wait to see you, by the way. Marty has been talking about you for days.” She led them through a door to the right. “This will be your room. Why don’t you freshen up, then join us in the living room? Drake is making cocktails.”
It was only once the door closed behind her that the situation hit home.
They were sharing a room.
Evidently the same thought had occurred to Brady. “Did you know we were going to share a room?”
Jordan groaned. “I didn’t think. When we spoke on the phone, Drake said something about Beli
nda wanting to make sure there was a room for me. I completely forgot about it until now.”
Brady sighed. “And I didn’t ask, because I had nothing to do with the arrangements for this part of the weekend. I just assumed….” He gazed at the oak-framed bed, covered in a blue-and-white comforter. “It’s a queen too.” The room contained an oak cabinet, a tall, slim bookcase, and a comfortable-looking couch. “I can always sleep on the couch.”
Like Jordan would stand for that. “Uh-uh. I sleep on the couch. You get the bed.” When Brady stuck out his chin, Jordan held up his hand. “You’re doing me the favor, remember, by coming here. No way will I let you sleep on the couch.” It was the only solution. The last thing Jordan wanted was to make Brady uncomfortable, and them sleeping in the same bed seemed above and beyond.
“Are you sure?”
Jordan smiled. “Absolutely. And it’s only for two nights, right?”
Brady tilted his head to one side. “Do you usually share a bed with, what’s his name… Clive, when you go to weekend functions?”
“If there’s only one bed, sure.”
“Then—”
Jordan narrowed his gaze. “Brady,” he said a low voice.
Brady bit his lip. “Gee, honey, I think we’re having our first argument.” His eyes twinkled.
It was just the right thing to say. Jordan burst out laughing. “Ready to go mingle with the rest of the guests?”
Brady grinned. “Once I’ve slipped into character.”
Jordan snickered. “Judging by that last remark, I thought you already were.” He matched Brady’s grin. “Will I be able to tell when you’re in character?”
“Sure. I’ll be the one gazing at you adoringly whenever some female starts taking too much interest in that shapely ass of yours.”
Jordan burst into laughter. “Excuse me? Shapely ass?” He was definitely warming to this new Brady.
Good humor sparkled in Brady’s eyes. “See, I can say that now. I’ve seen it.” He arched his eyebrows. “And if you’re not happy with the idea of a sassy boyfriend, you’d better tell me now before we get out there and mingle. I can always change the script if you’d prefer a quieter, more deferential version.”
