Page 9 of Soul of Discretion

He yawned widely, a result of the aftereffect of good sex. The toilet flushed in the bathroom, and a naked Simon emerged.

God, the man was breathtaking. He was certainly no muscle bear, being lean and toned, but his torso was well defined where it counted. Not quite a six-pack, or even a four-pack, but enough to make Nick’s mouth salivate. Nick had always loved a man’s V line and Simon’s was perfect.

His legs were strong and muscled, and Jesus, his ass. It was a thing of beauty. Fuckable and biteable.

But it was the floppy blond hair and eyes like warm chestnuts that really got Nick’s motor revving. The air of hauteur and power shone off Simon like sharp laser rays, and if there was one thing Nick was a sucker for, it was a man with authority who knew how to use it.

“I’m done in there if you want to go in,” Simon said.

Nick scowled. “I’m going, keep your damned hair on. Jeesh, talk about someone who can’t wait to get rid of their hook-up soon enough.” He leapt out of bed and hunted for his trousers. “I promise you I’ll leave, but I need a pee first, if that’s okay?”

He gripped his jeans in his hand, swept past Simon, who had a surprised yet guilty look on his face, and entered the bathroom.

Once he’d taken a piss and wiped himself down, he dressed swiftly. He looked around curiously. It was a hotel bathroom, so he hadn’t expected to find many personal items. Still, the bathroom was devoid of anything, even a toothbrush. It was showroom tidy, the only evidence that someone had been in there a few drops of water on the basin. He wiped them off, and then went back into the bedroom.

Simon had pulled on a pair of black, loose yoga pants, torso still bare. In one hand, he held a tumbler of dark liquid.

Nick picked up his jacket. “Thanks for the quickie,” he rasped out. “Should I keep your number or chuck it? If getting rid of your guests is anything to go by, I guess you’re not the kind of guy who does repeats.”

Simon raised his glass, inclining his head. “You guess right. Life’s too short not to sample the wares it offers. But thanks for tonight. I had a blast.”

He put his glass down on the bedside table. “Let me show you out. That’s what a gentleman would do, and I still pride myself on being one.”

Nick snorted. “I’m pretty sure I could find my way out, but sure.”

He followed Simon out of the room, down the hallway, and into the lounge, trying not to fixate on the shift of Simon’s ass under the tight fabric. The ripples of fabric against the taut muscles were mesmerising.

Simon opened the door and looked oddly discomforted for a man who was basically kicking someone out after some seriously good sex.

“See you around,” Simon said softly. “Go well, Nick. I hope life treats you kind.”

Nick nodded as he stepped out into the corridor. “You too. Hope business goes well. Safe journey home back to Plymouth.”

He turned, hitched his jacket over his shoulder, and began his walk of shame down the long hallway. The door clicked shut behind him. Nick stopped, looked at his watch—it wasn’t even midnight yet—and heaved another sigh.

When he got outside the hotel, he shivered, slung his arms into his jacket, and trudged down the street toward his hotel.