by Keely Jakes
****
A loud, high-pitched squeal followed by “Dane Murphy!” screamed across the lobby of the Menger Hotel pulled Sully’s attention from the briefing of what was expected of him over the next few days. The lobby had been redone since his last visit, being now painted turquoise, brown, and white, and looking very much unlike the old cowboy hotel he remembered.
Turning, he watched as Dane was grabbed and hugged enthusiastically by a bleached-blond surfer boy who was even shorter and daintier than Dane. Sully growled low in his chest as he ground his teeth together.
The bouncy boy chattered a mile a minute, sounding like a squirrel after an energy drink, as he followed Dane from the front door to the line of people waiting to check in. Dane looked a little shocked at the effusive greeting, but smiled and nodded as the man continued talking in his ear. The knowledge that Dane was here, in the hotel, meant he would have a second chance with the man whose writing had kept him enthralled on the flight, made Sully’s heart sing.
The crick in his neck attested to the fact that he had been unable to put the book down during the entire flight. He was anxious to get to his room for a few hours of quiet time so he could finish the book and find out who the real murderer was.
Ignoring the conference committee woman who joined them and was gushing like a preteen girl over some boy band member, Sully followed Dane to the check-in desk. He did not speak until he stood only inches behind his quarry, on the other side from the chatty boy.
“Are you stalking me, lad?” he asked, keeping his voice low and pitched for Dane’s ears only.
He could not help but chuckle when Dane squeaked and whirled to face him, knocking the surfer dude back several steps.
“Oh my God, you’re here,” the man shrieked just before his mouth snapped shut and his face turned bright red.
Unable to help himself, Sully drew two fingers down the Dane’s cheek before tapping at his lips. “Ye didna answer me question.”
Dane blinked and then smiled up at him, his eyes full of mischief. At once the room brightened, and Sully’s cock twitched in response.
“You scared me,” the man said with a giggle that sent more blood pooling to Sully’s groin.
“Dane? Who’s your friend?” The blond twink forced his way between them, earning a frown from Dane and a glare from Sully.
“Mason Simmons, this is Sully. Sully, this is Mason, one of my most rabid fans and a friend.” Dane hesitantly made the introductions.
“How do you do?” Mason said in an overly dramatic manner, holding his hand up with the palm down, as if expecting Sully to kiss his knuckles.
“Fine, thanks. Dane, can I have a word in private, please?” Sully saw anger flash across Mason’s expression before he dropped back to his side the hand that Sully had ignored.
“Sure. Please excuse us, Mason,” Dane said gently, as if he knew the rabid fan might cause more of a scene if not handled with care.
“Oh, okay. I’ll find you later in the bar. Ta,” Mason said before slowly wandering down the hall toward the pool, bar, and other common areas.
Sully watched the man go, hoping he would not be too much of a cock-blocker. He wanted to spend all his free time with Dane. Once Mason had moved out of sight, Sully turned back to the man standing in front of him.
“Thank you,” Dane said. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Sully’s middle, then squeezed tight. “Mason can be a bit…”
“Of a drama queen? An acid snowflake? An over-possessive pain in the ass?” Sully finished with several alternatives that he felt fit the man perfectly.
Dane chuckled as he nodded. “Something like that.”
For a man who stood just outside the closet, Dane was surprised by the amount of PDA he was initiating with Sully. Sully’s arms coming around his back sent a shiver of need racing down his spine to settle in his balls. His cock perked up, demanding they find a room away from the crowd. Preferably one with a soft bed and a sturdy lock on the door.
Looking up into Sully’s deep blue eyes, Dane took a slow breath. “Thank you,” he repeated softly.
“Yer welcome. Now ye still need ta answer me question. Would ye be stalkin’ me?”
Dane’s grin became more teasing. “Could be, though you never told me you were coming here. Maybe you’re the one stalking me.”
Sully chuckled at that off-kilter logic. “Except I was here first, mo run.”
Dane’s grin fell. “Oh. Well, then. Maybe I am stalking you. Is there a penalty if I confess?”
Sully thought for a moment. “I might have ta paddle that sexy ass of yers as punishment.”
Both men jumped when the elderly woman in line behind them gasped aloud. “Oh, my.”
“Excuse me, ma’am,” Sully apologized as his cheeks heated up.
The woman took a breath and smiled indulgently at them. “No need to apologize. I may be old, but I still remember the good stuff. That young man looks like he’s one of the good ones.”
“I believe he is,” Sully said. He looked back down at the man in his arms.
“May I help you, sir?” The clerk behind the counter called, sounding a little impatient at being ignored.
Sully smiled at the woman and said, “We need a moment. Please go ahead of us, ma’am.”
The woman’s smile grew, and she looked years younger as she flirted. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”
“No, ma’am, I’m not,” Sully answered.
“Well, your mama certainly raised you right.” And after pinching Sully’s cheek, she patted his ass as she walked past them to the counter.
Dane smirked at Sully’s bumfuzzled expression and bright red cheeks from the woman’s overly forward action before he asked, “You wanted to talk to me?”
“Yes, I did. Cancel your room and stay with me?”
Dane’s expression dropped and he then said, “I’m sorry, I can’t. I have a roommate who’s depending on me paying for half the room.”
Chapter Four
Dane unlocked his room and wheeled his suitcase inside with a sigh. Sully had left him at the reception desk when some man in an expensive suite called him away. By the time Dane registered and received two room keys, Sully was gone, and he had no idea where to look for the man.
At some point in the very near future, they would need to sit down and exchange cell numbers, rooms numbers, and all their other contact information. For now, Dane just wanted to unpack and get a quick shower and maybe a nap before his roommate showed up. He walked across the room to the sliding glass doors.
His heart skipped when he saw their room had a balcony with two chairs and a table, waiting for them to get to work writing. Reentering the room, Dane stopped and looked at the two beds debating which one he should take and which one he should leave for Lane.
Ding.
Dane pulled out his cellphone and checked the message.
I’m here, where are you? Was the message from Austin Lane, his roommate and good friend from the far side of the country. This would be their first meeting in the eight years of being friends. Until he had seen Sully downstairs, Dane had been looking forward to it. Now, he wished he could back out of the room share deal and spend the weekend with Sully in his suite.
With a grin, Dane texted back. Room 422. We got a balcony overlooking the pool.
As he sent the text he decided to not decide on the bed situation. Let Austin have his choice. He didn’t care one way or the other. Both beds were double beds with fluffy white comforters and four pillows across the headboard. Surely one of them would be just right.
Bang, bang, bang.
“And Austin has arrived,” Dane said.
As he ambled toward the hall door, he wondered if, like the website advertised, the room was haunted with one of the resident ghosts that made the hotel famous. With both Austin and himself writing murder mysteries, a ghost in the room was just what they needed to spark some extra creativity.
Opening the door, Dane was not pr
epared for a purple-haired man to grab him and start dancing him around in the hallway.
“Hello, hello, hello. I’m so happy to finally meet you.” Austin’s loud voice was more of a squeal that had Dane flinching in response. But the man’s enthusiasm was contagious. After a moment, Dane was jumping with the man instead of being dragged in circles.
Finally, the man wound down, and he released Dane. “So, do we have a ghost? Oh, I hope we do. Someone who’ll share their story with us so I can write about them. My well of creativity has been running dry lately.”
Austin grabbed the valet cart piled high with three large suitcases, a briefcase, and two boxes and struggled to drag it into the room. Dane grabbed the other end, and between the two of them they wrestled it inside. Dane then made sure to close and lock the door.
“Which side of the room do you want?”
Dane asked the question, though by the time he walked past the bathroom area and into the main part of the room Austin had already pulled the cart to the far side of the room before flopping across the bed farthest from the door.
So, that decision was made.
Turning to his bed, Dane lifted the suitcase onto the mattress and unzipped it. It took only a few minutes to pull his hanging clothes out and move them to the closet. Next, he carried his toiletries case into the bathroom. After shoving his suitcase to the floor at the foot of his bed, Dane threw himself across the mattress with a long, low groan as his body settled into the comforter. It felt so good to lie down. He wondered if anyone would mind if he stayed right like this until his first panel, late the next morning.
Closing his eyes, he decided a little nap would not be such a bad thing. when he woke up, he would think about dinner and maybe going downstairs to start the search for T. S. McKellen. And if he found Sully in the meantime, that would okay, too.
“Shit, I have to take the cart back downstairs,” Austin muttered from where he lay on the other bed.
“Mmmm,” Dane moaned as he rolled to his side and curled into a ball on top of the covers.
The sound of Austin unloading the cart barely registered. He did hear the man say, “I hope this key is for me, because I’m taking it,” though Dane was far enough gone that he could not respond.
The last thing Dane recognized was the sound of the door clicking closed after Austin left with the valet cart.
****
Sully looked around the hotel bar, ignoring the woman who was trying hard to flirt with him. If he had known wearing a kilt in Texas would garner him such attention, he would have left the damn thing at home. But he should have guessed it would draw stares and comments. After all, the United States had always been Celtic crazy, but had gone overboard the past few years.
He was convinced that was why his books did so well over here. The hero was a kilt-wearing Highlander who traveled the world solving crimes.
The bar was filling fast with men and women from the convention, and elsewhere, but Dane had yet to make an appearance. And he had been pulled away for a newspaper interview before Dane had gotten his room number. When he’d gone back, Dane had disappeared and the clerk was happy to pass on a message, but refused to tell him what room Dane was in.
So how to find the intriguing man who Sully was already wanting to wrap up and take home with him was his new challenge. And, being the writer he was, Sully was always up for a new challenge. Throwing back the last bit of his shot of the Jack Daniels he preferred when in the States, Sully made his way out of the bar to the concierge’s desk in the lobby.
“How do I call a room?” he asked the older gentleman sitting behind the desk once the couple he had been helping walked away.
“What room do you need to call, sir?”
“Well, that’s the problem. I don’t know what room he’s in,” Sully admitted softly.
The concierge nodded and picked up the phone as he asked. “What’s the gentleman’s name?”
“Dane Murphy.”
The man nodded as he connected with the hotel operator. He spoke a few words, including Dane’s name, before hanging up.
When the phone rang a half second later, he picked it up and handed it to Sully without a word. Sully nodded his thanks as he took the phone and held it to his ear.
He listened to several rings before it clicked. “Hello?” a sleepy voice asked.
“Dane?”
“Sully?”
“Yes, lad. What room are ye in?”
“I fell asleep. I’m sorry.” The sleepiness in Dane’s voice cleared, and Sully heard rustling in the background. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you in the bar.”
Sully wanted to argue, but the concierge was blatantly listening in so he simply said, “All right, lad. I’ll wait for ye in the bar. But ye might want ta hurry before all the margaritas are gone.”
Dane chuckled then said, “Get a table and order me a club soda, and I’ll be there before they deliver it.”
Sully heard the phone click and hung up. “Thank you,” he said as he handed it back to the concierge before heading back to the bar.
The waiter had just set down a fresh glass of JD for Sully and a glass of club soda when Dane burst into the room. Sully was glad he had found a space at the bar closest to the door as the bar was filling fast.
“Dane,” he called when he saw the smaller man looking around the bar. At first the man did not hear him so he called louder, “Dane Murphy.”
That time not only did Dane’s head turn, but a dozen others did as well. Sully didn’t care about anyone except the small brunet who was smiling as he threaded his way through those around him to Sully’s side.
“Hi,” he said, still looking a little rumpled and sleepy.
“Hello,” Sully said as he handed the man his drink.
The men sipped at their drinks, their eyes locking. The rest of the room disappeared for nearly a minute.
“Dane, you have to come sit with us,” Mason squealed as he grabbed Dane’s arm.
Sully fought down the urge to growl and backhand the flamboyant man before pulling Dane back and into his arms. Being in Texas, in a bar where Teddy Roosevelt recruited his Rough Riders a hundred years ago, made the bar one of the most masculine places in the country, and a quick glance around the bar had Sully fighting the urge to claim his man right here, right now.
Instead, he ground his back teeth together as he followed Dane through the crowd to the back corner of the room where three smaller tables had been pushed together. There were no free chairs once Mason pushed Dane into a chair and took the last empty one, so Sully simply stepped up to stand behind his man. He would allow Dane ten minutes to socialize before he threw him over his shoulder and carried him upstairs to his suite.
“So, Sully, are you a writer or a reader?” the man on the other side of Dane asked, surprising Sully when the focus of the group’s attention turned to him.
“Both,” Sully said as he reminded himself to be nice because these people were the reason he was here. They read his books and watched the movies and gave him the freedom to follow his passion.
“Are you published?” a man across the table asked.
“Yes,” Sully said without elaborating further.
“What name do you publish under?” the first interrogator asked.
Sully’s attention shifted to Dane, who had turned and was looking up at him, his expression intensely curious. “My own.”
Sully did not elaborate further, though he could see the crowd was waiting for a name. But he did not want to out himself until he had a chance to tell Dane first. And preferably when they were alone.
A look at the man himself showed Sully that Dane appeared just as interested as the rest of those around the table. Sully decided it was time to leave. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Dane and I have dinner reservations.”
There was argument from all around the table of people trying to get them to stay, but Sully had already helped Dane to his feet. With his hand wrapped around Dane’s wrist, it did
not take him long to clear their way through the bar. At the door, he threw back the last of his drink before handing the glass to the bouncer. Then he pushed out of the bar into the colder, brighter hallway.
Only then did he release Dane’s arm. With the man walking beside him, Sully did not stop or speak again until they reached the elevator in the corner of the lobby, which opened just a few feet from the door to his suite.
When they were alone in the small elevator, Sully finally looked at the man he wanted in his life, and his bed. Dane stared back, though it was obvious his brain was clicking through the things he’d learned, putting the pieces together like a master puzzle putter-togetherer. Or a best-selling mystery author.
“You’re him, aren’t you? Dane whispered as the elevator stopped at his floor. “You’re T. S. McKellen.”
Sully was saved having to answer the question by the elevator jerking to a halt and the door sliding open. A group of people waited just outside. Placing a hand in the middle of Dane’s back, he guided the man through the crowd and across the hall to his door.
He did not say anything until he had them inside the room with the door securely locked. Only then did he turn and lean against the door, watching the smaller man who was already taking over his heart as he paced the room.
“Yes, I am T. S. McKellen. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now.” Sully finally broke the silence that was growing tenser by the minute.
Dane blinked, and his stunned expression cleared. “No, I understand. We had a quickie in an airport restaurant closet after I admitted my plan to stalk you during the convention. I wouldn’t have told me who you were either.”
Chapter Five
Dane blinked several times to keep tears of embarrassment from overflowing and humiliating him further. The last thing he wanted was to cry in front of his personal writing hero. Brushing past the big man, he struggled to keep his head up and shoulders back as he marched to the door they had just come through. He needed to be alone to deal with his mortification.
