Page 40

My client turns around, eyebrows raised. And then…yeah. Appreciative isn’t the word for how he looks at Mike. No, it’s downright thirsty.

And Mike’s obviously noticed by the way his smile widens, enamel gleaming in the low light. After a few uncomfortable looks, he holds out his hand. “I’m Michael. Hi.”

“Very nice to meet you.” Kevin all but sounds like a purring cat. What the hell is that about? Him talking to Mike that way make my stomach feel even more sour.

“Right. Sorry,” I say, way too late. “Kevin, Michael. Michael, Kevin. Where’s Christian?”

Michael tilts his head as he turns my way. “You already asked me that. He couldn’t make it. I don’t know the exact circumstances.”

I know I already asked. I’m hoping if I ask enough times I’ll get a different answer.

“Well.” Mike rubs his hands together. “Time is money, right? You boys ready to get started?”

Kevin goes to pick up his drink. He always seems to like sipping something, at least at first. “Sure. Can I get you anything to drink first, Michael?”

Mike raises his eyebrows at me. I nod, telling him it’s okay. We’ve all got a general rule of avoiding drinking things clients give us. But with the regulars, it gets weird when you’re constantly turning down their offers in favor of the bottle of water you brought.

Anyway, Kevin’s been my client for years. At this point I feel like I can trust him.

“Club soda,” Michael says after a beat. “Please.” Then he flashes that winning smile of his again, dimple and all.

Meanwhile, I have a hard time holding back my snort of laughter. I’m not sure Kevin hears, but I can tell Mike does.

He comes over to me, pretending to straighten my tie. “Something funny?”

“Only that you’ve never said please to me in your entire life.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “That’s because with the two of us, you’re the one who says please.”

All at once, my body floods with heat.

We’re interrupted by Kevin bringing Mike’s drink, which is good because I’m not sure how to answer. “You boys good to go?”

“Can’t wait.” There’s that freaking grin again.

I can wait. I’d like to, anyway. In all the years Mike and I have been engaged in whatever unhealthy push and pull we’ve had, we’ve never actually had sex. This feels…big. Monumental.

Mike always made it clear he didn’t want to, which makes the recent stuff, the touching and the throat fucking, weird enough.

But this? Mike fucking me? It’s a bridge we can’t uncross.

Also though, there’s a voice in my head telling me I might as well. After years of ignored hard-ons, this might be my only chance.

“Yep. Let’s go,” I say with false cheer, clapping my hands together.

It’s like when Ella tries to bring home lizards and bugs she found on the walk home from school. I’ll pretend to be all excited, and then when nobody’s looking I’ll quietly release Mike back outside. Or something.

Kevin unbuttons his cuffs and rolls his shirtsleeves up to his elbows, taking himself and his drink and sitting down in the chair he’s already positioned in front of the bed for this exact purpose.

Turning to Mike, I say softly, “You know you have to actually let me get off this time. He’ll want to see it.”

The wide-eyed innocence in my former roommate’s eyes almost makes me laugh.

“Dean. I’d never do that to you.” He places a scandalized hand at the base of his throat. “What kind of person do you take me for?”

We don’t have time for me to answer that question. Even if I did, none of the things I’m thinking now are things I should repeat in front of a client.

“Let’s just get this done.” Turning toward the bedroom, I pull off my jacket, then move to unbutton my shirt.