He hauled the bags from the back of the car, carried them to the front door and rang the bell.
Veton opened it.
“Si jeni?” How are you, Tomas had asked in Albanian.
“Mire.”
He was fine. That was a pity. Tomas lived in hope Veton would develop some debilitating disease or get knocked down by a bus or just conveniently drop dead.
“Bring the bags in. Marco wants to see you.”
Tomas carried the shopping into the kitchen and found Marco at the table with a young brunette he didn’t recognize sitting on his lap. All she appeared to be wearing was one of Marco’s white shirts with not many buttons fastened. Marco had his hand beneath the material, squeezing her breast.
“Put the food away,” Marco said.
Yes, master. Tomas set the bags on the counter and emptied them into cupboards and the fridge.
“I’ve a job for you.”
He turned in case Marco was talking to him. Yep, he was. What was it going to be this time? Wash the cars? Walk the dog?
“I want you to learn English.”
His heart skipped a beat. “I can speak English.”
“Not perfectly. Anyway, you can pretend to not speak it well. I need someone to check out Ezispeke Language Academy.”
“Check it out for what?” Tomas asked.
“Once you’re registered and attending, I’ll tell you.”
He shrugged and hid his annoyance at Marco’s habit of working on a need-to-know basis. The shirt had fallen off the woman’s shoulders to expose one breast and Marco twisted her nipple. The woman winced and Tomas chewed the inside of his cheeks.
“A new term starts tomorrow.” Marco nodded at Veton, who threw a bundle of twenty pound notes onto the table. “Pay whatever you need to get a place at the school. Don’t ask for a receipt, but I want to know if they offer one. Bring me it if they do. Sign up for different classes, get to know the staff and pupils.”
“Okay.”
“You can go now, unless you want to join us for a sandwich.”
Veton unfastened his pants, the woman giggled and Tomas forced himself to smile before he walked out.
He tossed the cash into the glove box of his BMW, wiped his palms on his pants and drove back to his apartment in Leeds city center. The farther he was from Marco, the better he felt. Unfortunately, he needed to be in the guy’s pocket.
Tomas parked in his spot under a covered area at the back of the building, alongside a silver Mercedes he’d never seen before. Maybe someone had taken the apartment next to his. He gathered the bags of groceries he’d bought for himself and dropped in the bundle of cash.
The moment he opened the outer door, the fire alarm started to shriek and he hesitated.
The sensible part of him said, “Walk back out and wait to see what’s going on.” The less sensible part said, “It’s probably some idiot burning toast and the alarm will stop in a minute.” He let the door swing shut behind him and carried on down the corridor. The only concession he made was to use the stairs to the third floor and not the elevator.
As he opened the fire door onto his corridor, he saw a tall, dark-haired guy standing with his back toward him, wafting a towel over the shrieking alarm. All he wore were pale chinos, no socks or shoes. Tomas took in the broad shoulders, slim hips and tight butt, and a surge of lust ripped through him. He immediately nipped it at the neck and brought it down. Not a good idea.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Tomas just caught the words above the wailing alarm. He put his bags by his door and stepped to the guy’s side. “That’s not—”
As the stranger jerked round, the words log-jammed in Tomas’ throat and goose bumps erupted on his arms. So much for controlling himself. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m not doing this, not going there, not what I want. “That not going to help. Once detector go off, it trigger rest. You need call concierge.”
“Do you know his number?”
“Too late.” Tomas nodded toward Bill who puffed down the corridor, a glare on his reddened face.
“I’m so sorry. It was—”
“Is there a fire?” Bill snapped.
“No, I threw what was left of the toast out of the window.”
Tomas coughed to hide his snigger.
Bill entered numbers into a keypad and silenced the alarm before he set off back the way he’d come, grumbling under his breath.
“Shit. How to make a good first impression.” The half-naked guy turned back to Tomas.
Tomas couldn’t have been more impressed. He let his gaze wander over a tanned and toned upper body, perfectly rounded pecs topped by tight dark nipples, and abs almost as chiseled as his own. The chinos were unbuttoned at the waist and wisps of dark hair led— Oh damn. When he dragged his attention higher, he was staring straight at him. He had to have seen where he’d been looking. Fuck.
“Adam.” He held out his hand. “Otherwise known as the guy most likely to set fire to a whole city because he left the oven on.”
“Tomas. Guy most likely to be around to put out fire.”
The handshake was firm and lasted a fraction too long.
“What accent is that?”
“Croatian. You move in?”
“Only for three weeks.”
Christ. That made him harder to resist. No messy entanglements, just quick, pleasurable fucks, assuming Adam was gay or bi. Tomas was tempted whichever way the guy leaned. He might even try to corrupt a het. His mouth curved in a grin at the thought.
“What happen with toast?” he asked because he wasn’t ready to let this guy walk away.
“I forgot I’d put the bread in and started to get undressed for a shower. Next thing I know, flames are coming out of the toaster and the alarm’s screaming. I unplugged the toaster and poked the bread into the sink, but the slices were still burning and I worried they’d leave a mark so I used a couple of forks to throw them into the river. I’ll have to replace the forks. They went in too. I nearly tossed the toaster in as well.”
He grinned and Tomas laughed.
“The alarm in the kitchen was still wailing so I took out the battery, opened the door of the apartment to clear the air and set off this alarm.” Adam paled. “Shit. The beans.”
He raced back into his apartment and Tomas heard a series of curse words. The open door proved an irresistible lure.
“You okay?” he called and followed Adam inside.
The guy stood by the sink, his hand under cold water. The distinct smell of burning food filled the air. Was he forgetful, a klutz or both?
“Burned my fingers. Damn, I’m going to have to buy a replacement pan too.”
Tomas winced when he spotted the blackened mess in the saucepan. The air was still hazy with smoke. He scanned the kitchen taking in the yellow Post-its stuck everywhere. The one on the microwave said, “Don’t use this to dry your shoes.”
“You dry shoes in microwave?” Tomas gaped at him.
Adam flushed. “They were wet and I needed them to dry fast. I didn’t think they’d catch fire. One thing I’m good at is learning from my mistakes.” He paused. “Mostly.” He glanced at the stove. “Maybe I’d better stick to a boiled egg.” Then he frowned. “Can you burn a boiled egg? No, don’t answer that. I suspect I’m the only person in the world who could.” He pulled his hand from the water. “That’s better.” He grimaced. “Ah, no it’s not.” He stuck it back under the flow.
Want him, want him, want him. “Keep it there,” Tomas said. “I cook you something. I live next door. Number 17. Come in ten minutes.”
“Great. I’m not going to refuse that offer.”
Tomas swallowed hard as he walked away. Would Adam refuse what else he was thinking about offering?
On the back of Adam’s front door were four more Post-its. “Do you have your wallet?”
“Your phone?”
“Your shoes on?”
“YOUR KEYS?”
He shook his head, almost regretting his i
nvite. What was wrong with this guy? He picked up his bags from outside his door, kicking himself when he saw the bundle of money sitting on top. Christ. If he’d lost that…
Chapter Three
When Tomas saw the state of his apartment, he groaned. He scooped up stray items of clothing and pushed them in the laundry bin, collected dirty mugs and plates and filled the dishwasher, threw the trash into the bucket under the sink and dragged the duvet back over the bed. He’d only washed the sheets a couple of days—oh Christ.
He might be telling himself not to get overexcited but the advice didn’t leave his brain. His heart raced, his palms were damp with sweat while his cock grew harder by the second. Not wanting to appear too eager, he pulled his shirt out of his pants so it hung loose. He was in the middle of putting his groceries away, stowing the bundle of notes in the freezer behind the coffee, when the knock came at the door.
Adam stood holding a six-pack in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. His shirt also hung over his pants and Tomas bit his lip. Didn’t necessarily mean anything.
“Wasn’t sure if you were offering beef Wellington or cheese sandwiches.” Adam held up the drinks.
“Beans on toast.”
Adam smiled and Tomas’ cock swelled against his zipper. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this about anyone, male or female. Not just aroused but pathetically excited. He’d thought it was because he hadn’t let himself get interested, that he wasn’t into men anymore, that he was too professional to allow his private and public sides to collide, but now he knew different. He’d not been sufficiently tempted before. But hell, why did he have to meet this guy now when he was knee-deep in shit? It had to be the worst timing ever.
“Come in.” Tomas kicked the door closed and went back to the kitchen. He grabbed two tins of baked beans from the cupboard and a saucepan. “What business you in?”
“I…er—information technology. How about you?”
Why the hesitation? “I work for guy who has many businesses.” Few of which were legal. “I’m personal assistant. Do whatever he needs.” Within reason and not with any pleasure. He gestured to Adam’s feet. “You remember shoes. You have wallet, keys and phone?”
Mr. Temptation sucked in his cheeks and sighed. “Yeah, that’s Ally’s doing. She put notes on everything, including the taps, and I still got those wrong.”
Ally? Tomas swallowed his disappointment and popped four slices of bread into the toaster. What sort of fool was he to assume Adam was interested in guys? Tempt a het? I’m an idiot. All his bravado slithered into a black hole.
“I don’t know what I’d do without Ally,” Adam said.
“Oh yeah?” he forced out.
“She bought enough food to last me for a week and left instructions but I still cocked it up.”
Of course an angelic-looking guy would have an angelic girlfriend. “Think you manage to get plates from there without breaking?” Tomas nodded toward a wall cupboard. He wanted to strangle this goddess already.
Two cupboard doors opened and closed behind him before Adam put the plates on the counter.
“She looked so gorgeous yesterday,” Adam said.
Tomas yanked the tab off a can of beer and pushed another toward Adam. So you’re taken. Fine. I get it. Shut up now.
“She’s on her way to South America.”
Or maybe not. Tomas stared straight at him. “Why you not go?”
Adam’s lips curved in a smile and there was something in his eyes that made Tomas think he was yanking his chain.
“Because I don’t think I’d be welcome. She’s on her honeymoon.”
Tomas grinned as he stirred the beans. The bastard was teasing him. The toast popped up and he reached for the margarine.
“I was at wedding yesterday too,” he said.
Adam handed him a knife. “With your girlfriend?”
His expression held nothing but inquiry, but the question had been pointed.
“No girlfriend.” Tomas poured beans on the toast and gave a plate to Adam.
They sat at the table in front of the double doors that led to the balcony, and despite his cock strenuously disagreeing, Tomas began to backtrack. Lunch meant being neighborly, but forget the rest. The rest made for a bad idea and was too risky. He didn’t want to drag anyone else into danger.
But he watched Adam eat and his resolve to not touch went down the pan. Three weeks was nothing. It would go by in a flash and yet it could be everything. Three weeks and Adam would be gone. Tomas had to keep his secrets, but they could still fuck. The guy lived next door. How convenient was that? The nights when Tomas wasn’t working, he’d have something worth coming home for. Three weeks. Didn’t he deserve a break? He really wanted to take Adam to bed. His cock nodded in furious agreement and his balls tingled their approval.
“Where you live?” Tomas asked.
“In London. Greenwich.”
That was good. At least a four-hour drive from Leeds. He must be up here on business. Maybe he’ll come again.
“I travel a lot,” Adam said. “I don’t spend much time at home. How long have you been in England?”
All my life. “Few years.”
“Long enough to acquire a taste for beans on toast. That was great.” Adam put his knife and fork neatly on the empty plate. “What’s for dessert?”
Adam wanted to pick up his knife and cut out his tongue. What’s for dessert? What the fuck had he been thinking? Well, he’d been thinking of what he usually said to Ally after they’d eaten dinner, because she always produced some little treat or other, knowing his sweet tooth. But now Tomas was staring at him as if…oh God.
“What you like?” Tomas smiled.
For someone decisive in his business life, Adam’s mind went painfully blank. He sensed something going on between them, hints had been dropped, glances exchanged, hands gripped slightly longer than necessary, but he wasn’t sure. Adam never acted on impulse when he dealt with people. Usually. He checked once, checked twice and then checked again. He’d never done this before. Well, he’d done that, he’d just never immediately followed through on a surge of lust. But when he looked into the midnight-blue eyes of the Croatian, took in his hard, chiseled jaw and the curve in his lips, the wave of lust grew into a tsunami.
Tomas still stared expectantly.
He’s waiting for an answer, you moron. “Ice cream?” Adam blurted. Wimp.
Tomas pushed to his feet and walked over to the kitchen.
Oh shit. Adam knew he needed to get up too, thank the guy for the food and go back to his apartment and wank—no, watch TV. But that tight, muscular butt under those denims, the broad back, dark silky hair, the whole bloody package was beyond tempting. Yet how could he know for certain? Who was supposed to make the first move? Did Tomas top or bottom? Both? Neither? Like anything kinky? Like women as well? Questions circled in Adam’s head until he felt sick.
The microwave pinged and Tomas came back to the table with a tub of pecan-and-caramel ice cream and two spoons.
“You can microwave ice cream?” Adam asked in surprise.
“For few seconds. Was too hard. Freezer transform everything to rock.” Tomas dipped his spoon into the top and scooped up a lump with a pecan. “Try.”
He held the spoon out, stared straight at him, and Adam was instantly, definitely, happily sure. He wrapped his mouth around the spoon and clamped down. When Tomas tried to pull back, Adam didn’t let the spoon go for a long moment. Once he had, he chewed and swallowed, the cold, sweet ice cream slipping down his lust-thickened throat.
“More?” Tomas said huskily.
Everything this guy said was suggestive. Or is it just me taking it that way? “I’d love some more,” he croaked.
“Let’s sit on couch.”
He watched as Tomas rose languidly to his feet and then he followed, his gaze pinned to the guy’s butt. They sat and Tomas put the container on the coffee table. He scooped out another spoonful but instead of
offering it to Adam, he sucked off the ice cream, dropped the spoon and grabbed the back of Adam’s neck to pull his head forward. Their lips crashed together and his mouth opened as Tomas’ tongue shoved forward. OhGodohGodohGod. Cold ice cream, warm mouth, sweetness spreading as the ice cream melted. Already hard, Adam’s cock turned to granite while his heart battered his ribs.
Tomas cupped his neck as their tongues thrust and tangled. His head fogged and his senses reeled as ice cream, the faint tang of beer, the taste of Tomas—all mingled together like some magical aphrodisiac. Adam slid his arms around the guy’s back, muscles flexing under his palms. His control slipped as desire swept him into deeper and deeper water, dragging him out to sea. The need to come overpowered everything else.
His befuddled brain eventually took in that Tomas was nudging him backward and they lay on the couch, their lips still joined. Adam didn’t want this kiss to end. He groaned into Tomas’ mouth as the guy pinned him down, their legs entwined, their lean bodies molded together perfectly. As much as Adam loved the feel of a woman’s body, there was something about a guy’s hardness, roughness and strength that inflamed him.
He groaned as Tomas fiercely tongue-fucked his mouth in time with the rocking of his hips, as he pressed the rigid length of his cock into Adam’s thigh. Then the kiss gentled and the guy nibbled at his lips, brushing his tongue back and forth over them as he panted. Adam could count on the fingers of one hand the number of men he’d locked lips with and none of them had come close to the wonder of this. Whether he was brain-fogged by lust or not, the kiss electrified him.
He started when Tomas suddenly grabbed his wrists, yanked them over his head and held them there.
And Adam let him. Christ. When had he ever allowed anyone to take the lead? He was always the one in charge, making the play, giving orders.
When Tomas’ lips slid from Adam’s mouth to his neck, and his exhales warmed his skin, Adam gulped air into starved lungs. The hold tightened around his wrists as Tomas edged his knee between his legs, forcing them open. Then their cocks rubbed directly against each other, friction from the layers of material adding to the torment. Drops of frustrated pre-cum wet Adam’s boxers while the ache in his balls intensified, heading toward pain.
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