“Would he?” she began. “Unless you’ve got anyone else in mind?”
God, what did I do to deserve you? “Well, you know.” I shrugged in what I hoped was the very epitome of nonchalance and brushed aside a wet tendril of hair so I could run a crooked finger down the side of her face. Skin so smooth, heart so welcoming, mind so damned filthy. And I loved her for it. “If I find out any more of my mates are damnable perverts, I’ll be sure to clue you in.”
Chapter Three
The next week at work, I kept picturing Georgia. Not Sarah, just Georgia. I carried her with me, thought about everything we did. Every time her image faded and tried to become something else, I called it back deliberately, like rewinding a VHS videotape over and over again, memorizing every last detail of a film already watched a thousand times.
Dangerous it may have been, given the effect she had on me, but I had to do it. I had to risk the effects of those images becoming obvious in public. Trouble was, this desperation to replay the way I’d fucked her on the settee, in bed, in the shower bothered me. Taunted me with its obvious attempt not to be thoughts of someone else.
Georgia had accused me of being insatiable every night since my birthday. Maybe I had been. And even though the need for sleep and the obligation to work punctuated our breathless sessions of fucking—and that’s what it was: fucking, not making love—my mind never went to sleep. It didn’t let up. I ravaged her again and again, fucked her hard and deep, made her scream and—
Jesus.
Wiping a hand across my brow, I leaned against the counter, grateful to be seated at least, even if I could barely focus on the computer screen in front of me.
It was mentally exhausting thinking like this, but the only way to empty my mind of other things was to fill it with Georgia.
“Tom, I’m having problems focusing on this damn screen. Will you take over and I’ll see to the returns?” Standing and walking was still a possibility.
Tom growled, or tried to, in an attempt to sound threatening. “Late night again, was it, Hutton? You should have just phoned in sick.”
“And miss the chance to spend the day gazing at your smiling face?”
“Yeah, go on.” He play kicked me as I rose from the chair. “It’ll save these old bones lugging piles of books around, I guess.” He was only three years older than I. “Tell her to leave you alone,” he muttered.
“Huh?” Concentrating on not dropping the armload of hardbacks was as much as my distracted brain could handle.
“Georgia, Reece. You come into work that tired—you have to tell her to give you some rest.”
“You’re funny, Yates. Really. You crack me up.”
“Okay then. If it wasn’t her, you must have been up late partying. Who’d’a thunk it? A librarian party animal.”
“Yeah, ‘cause we all know how gentlemanly and respectable you are, right?” I laughed over my shoulder as I walked away and, for some reason, glanced past Tom into the foyer.
Faltering, I turned my back and tried to think of anything but the person who’d just turned the corner and headed in this direction.
“Yep,” Tom said behind me. “Definitely too much partying. Try sobering up before you come in to work next time, Hutton.”
His chuckle followed me, as did Daniel’s burning gaze. It rippled my spine, and I couldn’t get away from him, out of his line of sight, fast enough.
But no doubt he’d seen me, and no doubt he’d—What?
No doubt he’s here to see you? How arrogant is that, Hutton?
That wasn’t necessarily true. He’d come in before to get some work done. Why couldn’t that be the case today? There was absolutely no reason to assume he’d had any trouble keeping someone off his mind. Someone like me. No reason to believe he’d tempted sleep to come take him away from conscious longing for one person by fucking the living daylights out of another until he couldn’t breathe.
He was in here somewhere; the hairs on the back of my neck told me, and when they prickled, I assumed I was in his line of sight. That sense of being stared at, though not strictly scientific, was nevertheless undeniable. It didn’t make sense. It just was. And in a moment, he’d undone all my hard work. One glance had destroyed my facade of nonchalance.
And it took all the strength I had not to look over my shoulder, lest I catch his eye and no longer have a legitimate excuse for avoiding him. One drop of Daniel was enough to cloud the entire cocktail of emotions with guilt.
“Hey, you.”
Just as well I’d only been holding one book at that point; somehow I managed to keep ahold of it and not make too much of a fool of myself. Lost in my own thoughts and my awareness of that back-of-the-neck tingle, I’d failed to pay attention to how close he actually was. Over my shoulder, yes, but right there?
“Daniel?”
“Anyone would think you were avoiding me.” He crossed his arms, leaned against the wall, and I definitely did not pay the slightest bit of attention to the way his waist curved into his hip.
“No, just…” I gestured with the one book in my hand before slotting it back in place on the shelf.
“Distracted?”
“Something like that.” I nodded at his laptop bag. “Shouldn’t you be working?”
“Just wanted to come over and say hi before I set up. Would have been rude to say nothing, don’t you think?”
“Yeah.” Looking down at my feet, I hooked my thumbs into my jeans pockets, immediately realizing what that body language would say to an observer. But I couldn’t readjust or my discomfort would become obvious. That’s if it wasn’t already.
“How have you been?”
“Fine, fine.” The way I spoke, one would’ve thought it was the truth. The way Daniel spoke, one would have thought it had been ages since we’d met. A week or two, if that?
“You didn’t get in touch.”
“Oh?”
“About the book.”
“Oh that. Yeah. Sorry, I…” The realization that I sounded dismissive of his work did nothing to improve my mood. “I’ve had a few things…” Shrugging, I looked at him so as not to appear any more rude or standoffish.
His frown exactly mirrored the one I felt tightening my brow.
“It was my birthday recently.” I hadn’t intended to tell him that. I just wanted to show I’d had other things on my mind and hadn’t been avoiding him.
“Really? How old?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Only one year behind me, then.”
I know. I’ve been reading about you on your Web site when I should have been doing other things. “I’m getting old.”
“Do anything special?”
The noise I made was the bastard love child of a cough and a laugh, and I almost choked.
“Reece? You okay? Did I say something funny?”
“No, it’s just…my birthday was…” Christ, you’re not actually going to tell him, are you? What are you trying to prove?
“That scandalous?” His lips twitched, and I could have sworn he was teasing me. He paused. “I have a suggestion.”
“Oh?”
“You eat food, don’t you?” He straightened, smiled, and crossed his arms. “Unless you’re a Martian in disguise who sucks nutrients out of the atmosphere.”
“No.” Despite my nerves, I laughed. “Definitely human.” With a shrug, I added, “I think.”
“What time’s your lunch break?”
Somehow managing to turn my splutter of shock into a simple clearing of my throat, I studied his face for signs of I didn’t know what, but all I saw there was that vaguest of smiles, a hint of a twist to those thinned-out lips.
“You haven’t even started work yet, and you’re already thinking about eating?”
He shrugged. “I’m a growing boy. I need sustenance.”
“Hmm. Right, well, around one or thereabouts.” I didn’t want to think about the reasons behind his question. Nor my willingness to answer.
�
�Great. You can show me a good place to eat round here.”
“I can?” I stared at him with widened eyes. If he’d been a woman, I’d have thought he was asking me out.
“Yeah. You look like a guy with an interesting story to tell.”
“I thought I just looked like I’d hung one on last night; now you’re telling me I look like I have something to say?”
“I’m a writer.” His half smile grew into a grin. “I collect stories, and scandalous birthday tales are at the top of my list.”
“And before you know it, I’ll end up in one of your books.”
“Depends.” He cocked his head. “Is your story that interesting?”
Laughing nervously, I avoided his gaze but still felt it burning my skin. “I don’t know about that.” Images of Georgia flashed into mind again, and I rubbed one wrist with the opposite hand, imagining the phantom of long-faded cuff marks. “Nah, it’s not. I’m pretty boring really.”
“I bet you’re lying.” His eyebrows lifted in a gesture perfectly synchronized with his verbal challenge to my honesty.
Searching my mind for something to say, anything, I faltered, breath catching in the back of my throat, but before I could blurt out something stupid, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“I’ll be working—or trying to—over there.” He nodded in the direction of the study desks he’d headed for last time. “Why don’t you give me a kick when you’re off on your lunch break and you can tell me your ‘pretty boring’ story? My treat. A belated birthday gift. And I have something else for you too, coincidentally enough.”
I shrugged, but more in surrender than indecision. “I guess.”
“Great.” He hoisted the strap of his laptop bag on his shoulder and backed away a step. “I’ll see how much work I can get done in the meantime.” Pause. “It’s a date.” Beat. He winked and disappeared.
That videotape I’d been watching had jammed in the player, and the images I’d forgotten now refused to appear. Daniel’s presence, magnetic enough as it was, had wiped the tape clean.
A couple of hours till my “date” with Daniel and I didn’t know if that unsettled wave disturbing the pit of my stomach was dread or anticipation.
* * *
“This is a good place to eat?” Daniel removed his shades and looked around us as we entered the diner.
“Don’t tell me; you’re used to more upmarket eateries?”
“You make me sound like such a snob.”
Though I was on edge about being here with Daniel—hell, anywhere with Daniel—we fell into bantering like we’d known each other for much longer than we had. His presence unnerved me, but he clearly desired mine or we wouldn’t be here now. “We’re not all rich and famous authors. Some of us have to subsist on a meager librarian’s wage.” I allowed myself a smile as we seated ourselves at the back of the room and waited for a waitress to materialize.
“You wouldn’t believe how often I get that. I think people are disappointed when they finally see I live in a normal apartment block and don’t even drive a car.”
“You’re so hard done by.”
“I am actually,” Daniel protested. “Anyway, speaking of writing, I did have something for you—”
“Hey, Reece.” A waitress appeared at our table, pencil and pad in hand. “You going to introduce me to your friend?”
“Oh hi, Piper. Yeah, this is Daniel. Daniel, this is Piper, who I’m sure is only nice to me because I tip well.”
“You always choose my table, so don’t act all innocent with me. If he didn’t have a girlfriend,” Piper added, turning to Daniel, “I’d think he was after something.”
Daniel caught my eye before shifting to one side, looking Piper—or rather, Piper’s legs—up and down. “I wouldn’t blame him,” he murmured.
She colored demurely. “I like him. You can bring him again.”
“If you didn’t have a fiancé,” I said, “who happens to be bigger than me, Irish, and a wee bit mad, I might be after something.”
She looked at Daniel again. He did seem to draw people’s attention effortlessly. “See what I have to put up with? Right, Reece. Put me out of my misery. What can I get you?”
“Now there’s a loaded question.”
“Stop it.”
“Fine, fine.” I laughed. “Egg salad for me. Daniel?”
“Same. I’ll go by your recommendation.”
“Would you gentlemen like anything to drink? And by gentlemen, I mean Daniel, ‘cause clearly—”
“We’ll both have a coffee, thank you,” I put in, glaring at her, or trying to.
“As you wish, my liege.” She scribbled something on her pad and scooted back to the counter.
“You seem to know a bit about each other.” Daniel leaned in, rested his chin on his hands. “Her fiancé? And your…girlfriend, she mentioned?”
I gulped. For some reason. I did a lot lately that I couldn’t understand. Thought a lot that I didn’t understand. “Yes. Georgia.”
“And what did she give you for your birthday?”
I coughed so hard my eyes watered.
“Reece? Did I say something…?”
“No, no, it’s fine.” I waved a dismissive hand. “Um, it’s…”
“You’re definitely a man with a story to tell.”
“Well, she’s a very adventurous woman, is Georgia. You said you had something for me?”
“Yeah.” Daniel cocked his head and frowned. He drew back, seemed to shake himself out of a daydream, and reached for his laptop bag, which he’d left on the chair beside him. “Anyway, as you hadn’t been in touch, I decided to drop this off at the library for you, but here we are.” He looked up, arched a brow, and grinned. He looked perfectly devilish with his hair immaculately mussed up and his lower lids edged with eyeliner.
“Oh. The book. Your book, I mean.”
“I’m inclined to send you on your way with a please don’t tell me my baby’s ugly while I crawl into the corner and suck my thumb.”
“Shut up.” I laughed as I looked at the paperback, titled Act of Contrition, then flipped it over to read the blurb on the back.
“Honestly. I’ll be constantly hitting refresh on my e-mail in-box or checking my text messages until I hear from you again.”
I caught his eye, then quickly looked away.
“I mean, for your opinion on the book. I’ll be scared you’ll tell me I suck more than a Bangkok lady boy. Bit of a late birthday present, and unwrapped because I didn’t know it was your birthday.” Daniel shrugged. “Hope the day went well.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “You could say that.”
Again his brow lifted.
I wanted to tell him and didn’t want to tell him. Two blokes, sitting in a diner waiting for their order to arrive? Normally if one had a story like mine to tell, he wouldn’t hold back. Listen to how much of a stud I am. But Daniel and I had known each other a relatively short period of time, and I didn’t know if sexual exploits were up for discussion, if our dynamic was such that telling him would score me man points or destroy any hope of male bonding.
“I don’t know how far I can go.”
“All the way, of course.” He winked.
“Well, when you put it like that.” I laid the book to one side on the table, tapped it a few times absentmindedly before clasping my hands together in front of me. “What does every man want for his birthday?”
“An Xbox?”
Smiling, I shook my head.
“Candy and hand jobs? Wait—a pony!”
“You want a pony for your birthday?”
“Okay, nipple clamps and a butt plug.”
“You’re a sick man, Daniel Cross.”
“Yeah, I mean, how many butt plugs does one man need?”
My eyebrows shot up, and I had no idea what to say to that, eventually settling on, “You’re in the right arena though.”
“Your girlfriend bought you a b—”
“No, she
did not.”
“Damn. So you were saying?”
I took a deep breath. Jesus. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. “Her best friend.” My heart thundered.
“What about her…? No way.” Daniel’s words drew the attention of surrounding diners, and he waited a few seconds for their scrutiny to die away, then leaned in closer. “She…? You…?”
I nodded. Once. Twice. Slowly.
“Jesus. Now I definitely have to meet her.” Daniel sat back, shaking his head, a grin of admiration splitting his face. “I don’t know whether to shake your hand or…” A quiet huff of laughter. “She gave you a free pass to run off with her best mate for the night?”
“Oh no.” Now I’d said it, now he’d accepted it, it was almost fun. Certainly a relief that he hadn’t reacted with, well, whatever. “She was there.”
“Reece Hutton. I think you’re my hero.”
“And to think I was nervous about telling you.”
“Are you kidding? I mean, who hasn’t had a threesome at least once in their life?”
“You have?”
“Sure. Both flavors.”
“What?” Christ. Someone up there is having a monumental laugh at my expense. We have more in common than Daniel realizes and…and…
“I mean, it’s easy to score these days, but it’s usually with casual friends, you know? Your girlfriend and her best mate, though? Fuck. I think there’s a South Sea island with an obscure tribe who worship you as their god. Well, damn if that doesn’t piss all over my pathetic pseudo birthday gift.”
I followed the direction of his nod, looked at the paperback again. “How many people can say they’ve had a book published?”
Daniel leaned across the table. “How many people can say they’ve fucked two people at once?” he whispered.
“Well, you have,” I shot back.
“And aren’t we just a couple of damnable perverts?”
The world froze. The background noise in the diner faded to nothing, and Daniel and I existed in our own little bubble until—
The bubble popped.
“I have a newfound admiration for you, Reece.” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “But it’s refreshing to meet someone who freely admits to being adventurous,” he added, and the way he said that one word sent a shiver down my spine.
By the Book Page 4
