‘How? Telepathically,’ I snipe.
‘You could’ve gotten my number. I believe I’ve proved the methods of my stress relief.’
‘I’m not interested,’ I snap, embarrassed and feeling all sorts of uncomfortable.
‘Okay.’ Kit sits forward, rubbing his index finger down his nose. ‘Noted. But it doesn’t explain why you almost punched me.’
‘Because my boyfriend of eight years, the man I followed from the other side of the world, happened to roll on his phone last week and dial mine. Unfortunately, he happened to be fucking someone else at the time!’
My final words seem to echo through the café, the place suddenly so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Maybe it’s my imagination, but the noise of frying eggs seems to come back as though through a vacuum.
‘So there you have it. My momentary loss of sanity.’ I can’t look at him, choosing to look out the window to the rain-streaked street instead.
‘And you thought I was Rory.’
‘Yes. My judgment was clearly off, both picking the wrong brother and thinking he’d do such a thing to Fin. You are, however, lucky I didn’t go for your dick.’
He smiles, sort of wryly. ‘I had hoped, at least for a moment, you were coming for just that. Until I got a look at your expression. It wasmurderous.’ His eyes were wide open and clear—a feigned innocence.
‘You do that on purpose.’
‘Do what?’
‘That rolling thing with yourr’s.’ For some reason, my index finger makes a circular motion, his eyes flicking down to watch. And just like that, I’m back in that dark hallway with his long fingers between my legs.
‘Maybe it’s just my tongue.’
‘It’s definitely something,’ I reply, feeling a little short of breath. Sliding the loose tendrils of hair behind my ears, my gaze slides to the window again. ‘Is that a hotel? The place you were coming out of?’
‘The building?’ The hesitant nature of his answer draws my attention to him again, but he looks back at me with a challenge in his eyes.
‘Yeah, you were coming out of it, I thought.’
‘Dr Honey Bea,’ he drawls then he smiles wolfishly. ‘That building is something you really don’t want to know about.’
Resisting the urge to fold my arms and snort, I match his smile wattage. ‘Not my monkeys, not my circus, I suppose?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Only, you seem to be unfamiliar with how this goes. I asked, ergo, Iwantto know. Polite convention and all that.’
He nods once slowly as though considering my words. ‘Once you know, there’s no going back. Monkeys roaming free and the circus? Over as you know it.’
‘So dramatic. I never liked the circus, anyway.’
‘There’s no unknowing. Consider this a warning because there’s nothing polite about that place.’
‘Oh, stop with the cloak and dagger stuff. It’s not as if you’re going to tell me it’s a sex club or anything!’ Again, the café seems to fall quiet, ears nearby straining to hear.
Kit begins to laugh, rich and deep and clear.
‘I didn’t tell you behind that unassuming door there’s an elite club for persons of particular sexual tastes. Because if I had, I’d have had to swear you to secrecy first.’
‘What?’ My eyes slid to the exterior of the building. The white painted sash windows, the topiaries standing sentry, the brass letterbox. ‘No. You’re pulling my leg.’ The place looks far too ordinary. Expensive, but not kinky by any stretch of the imagination.
He shrugs and folds his arms. ‘I didn’t tell you anything. I could get blackballed for doing that. And then where would I take my... quirks?’ He looks far too at ease to be telling me he has... quirks.Oh, come off it. The man has deliciously kinky written all over him.
‘I have a hard time believing you’d have issues getting anyone toaccommodateyour p-peccadillos.’Good save because I was totally thinking penis. Big, thick penis.He inclines his head—a motion of insincere thanks. ‘Sometimes just anyonewon’t do.’
