She set it on Kazimir. “Hello, Mr. Ambrose. My apologies for keeping you waiting. Please, come in.”
Kaz shot to his feet and went to pass by, hanging back at the last second. He stared at Nate until he met his eyes once more. “Remember what we talked about last time we saw one another, Pretty Boy?”
Nate felt his stomach coil with dread but somehow managed to nod his head anyway.
Kazimir grinned. “Good.”
Then he turned and walked into the office without another word, leaving Nate feeling even more unnerved than he’d been during his damn session.
Chapter 9:
Kaz stared at the swirl of cigarette smoke that drifted up toward the hotel ceiling. The flavor of musk and fruit coated his tongue—one courtesy of the man currently slipping back into his jeans, the other from the umberberry cigarette—and he thought about how badly he wanted a cup of black coffee to help chase both flavors away.
He wondered what kind of coffee Nate Narek liked and then grinned thinking about the shocked look on his face the other day. "Ever have an intrusive thought about someone?"
"Unless it's about murdering them," Zane replied in that smooth tone of his, the one he always slipped into at the end of their sexcapades, "it's not an intrusive thought."
"Bullshit."
"Who are you thinking about?"
"You, baby." Kaz winked and chuckled when Zane rolled his eyes in response.
"Unlikely," Zane said.
"Why?"
"Because you just had me."
Kazimir made a big show of checking the holographic numbers displaying the time in neon red floating above the end table to his right. "Still plenty of time for another round, if you ask me."
"I didn't ask you." Zane finished buttoning up his black dress shirt and then reached down to adjust the circular pin attached to his belt. The Vail crest logo. Their color-coded system helped to immediately identify what grade a student was in, something Kazimir had always appreciated since he’d been brought up to believe in hierarchy and respect. Black was the color seniors wore.
Kaz’s shirt in the same color was somewhere on the floor where he’d stripped it off and left it a couple of hours ago. Sex usually did the trick and helped take his mind off of things, and he’d been eager to get over thoughts of Nate Narek by getting Zane under him. Clearly, that hadn’t worked.
It’d been a week since he’d showed up at the shitty little hole-in-the-wall shop Nate called his place of business. Quartet Air was a crappy, run-down single-level auto and air shop that was barely staying afloat—even with higher clients like Miss Parker.
Kazimir had done some digging when he’d discovered that’s where Nate worked and all that’d done was bolster his idea that Nate was getting something more out of his interactions with the rich geezer than simply bikes or hovercars to work on. There was no reason someone like Mit would bother with a shop like Quartet Air if he wasn’t getting flesh out of the deal. Considering how attractive Nate was? Yeah, Kaz could understand the appeal. He’d throw money at a body like that too, and he’d yet to see Narek fully undressed.
“Thoughts on paying for it?” he asked, the question rolling off his tongue, giving his current companion pause.
Zane was a member of the Retinue, not an enemy, since the two groups had been ordered to get along since the beginning when they’d all been children, but not exactly a friend either.
Kazimir had been dicking him down for over three years now. Not something he typically did with his friends.
“Last I checked,” Zane clipped a moment later, “neither one of us is hurting for coin.”
“I’m not saying we pay off each other,” he snorted.
“Why? You interested in a sex worker all of a sudden?” There wasn’t so much as a hint of hurt in Zane’s tone. Nothing to indicate the thought of Kaz wanting to stick his dick into another person was upsetting.
That was why this twisted thing worked between them. Because, at the end of the day, it wasn’t twisted at all. They contacted one another whenever the other had an itch that needed scratching, did the deed, and went their separate ways. They never interfered or even showed an interest in one another’s personal lives, and when they were with the rest of the Satellite or Retinue, they acted the same as everyone else.
Close enough to make jokes.
Distanced enough to draw blood in the ring.
“Calling him a sex worker is…hasty.” Kaz may have had his suspicions, but according to Nate, nothing had happened between him and Mit. Yet. It was so obvious that’s why the old guy kept coming around, that he was hoping he could eventually convince Nate to give him a try.
