Nick looked at me hopefully. “Do you mind if we sleep together? I like the company.”
I smiled. “No, I don’t mind.”
Nick seemed to have no trouble falling asleep after we were settled, but I lay awake for a long time. I was aware the moment Cane walked into the house. I’d left my bedroom door ajar, and I saw his shadow pass on his way to his room. My heart beat faster when I heard his footsteps stop halfway down the hall and return to my door.
I held my breath. Was he peering into my dark bedroom? There was an odd intimacy to the two of us there, in the dark, very aware of each other but not speaking. A moment later, I heard him continue down the hall and the door to his room click shut.
I sighed and rolled over to face the window. I’d meant well introducing myself to Cane’s cousin, but had I crossed the line by giving the man my card? I knew Cane was a private person, but I needed the business.
I closed my eyes and gradually slipped into a dream of being in bed with Cane, our bodies undulating together on the sweaty sheets.
“I love you, Tony, but not that way. Could you stop humping my leg?”
Nick’s voice very close to my ear woke me with a jerk, and I opened my eyes to the first rays of morning sun peeking through the crack in the curtains.
I replayed Nick’s words in my head and realized I had one leg draped over his body, my erection pressing into his hip.
I pulled back, mumbling an apology, and Nick laughed.
“Does my scrawny little body really make you think of Cane?” he teased.
“What?” I sat up and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands.
“You were saying his name.”
I dropped my hands and glared at my friend. “I was not.”
Nick nodded. “You were. Oh, Cane. Fuck me harder with that big fat dick of yours.”
I threw a pillow at his face, and his body shook as he laughed behind it.
Sliding out of bed, I tugged on my jeans and a long-sleeved shirt and headed for the kitchen to make coffee.
Thankfully someone had already made a pot. I eagerly poured myself a mug and stepped onto the back porch, surprised to find Cane sitting on the glider.
“Great minds think alike,” he said lifting his mug in salute before taking a sip.
I was tempted to leave, but I’d said I wasn’t going to avoid him anymore, so I settled on the lounger. “You’re up early.”
“So are you.”
“Thought I’d paint a while,” I said.
He studied my painting propped on the easel.
“You’re really talented.”
A hot blush crept into my face. “You just think that because you don’t paint. I’m really not that good.”
“Yes, you are.” Cane studied the nude. “I never see your paintings after you’re finished with them. Other than the one hanging in the living room, they’ve all disappeared. Do you sell them?”
“I store them,” I answered. “I enjoy painting, but I can’t hang them all on the wall. Even if the guys like my work, that would be a little too much.”
“You should have a showing.”
I laughed. “Seriously? No.”
“You should. People would buy them.” Cane’s deep voice coiled around my heart as well as my cock, and I cursed my inability to get over my feelings for him. As he turned his attention to my painting again, I studied his profile: the sharp line of his jaw beneath the close beard, his long nose, the curve of his full lips.
Tearing my eyes away, I said, “I appreciate the compliment, but I’m really not that good. I’ll save myself the embarrassment of rejection.” My cheeks warmed, my mind going straight to the night Cane had rejected me. I cleared my throat. “You know, this is the most you’ve ever spoken to me.”
Cane gazed at me for a moment. “Sorry. I’m just not a big talker.” He looked at the painting again. “Who’s the guy?”
I glanced at the man I’d painted lying naked on sun-dappled sheets. “What makes you think he’s someone I know?”
“You always paint people you know.”
He was right, and I was surprised he’d noticed.
“Just someone I met a few months ago in Nevada.”
“A lover.” Cane’s tone didn’t change.
“Yes,” I said.
His eyes met mine. “Do you paint everyone you sleep with?”
“Only those who made an impression.” Our eyes met and held, and the porch seemed to swell with unspoken thoughts and a kind of tension I felt in my nuts. I’d painted Cane before getting rid of the canvas, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Allowing him to think our times together hadn’t been all that memorable was the only thing my silly pride had to cling to.
Unexpectedly, Cane flashed a devastatingly sexy grin that melted me from the inside out and immediately brought to mind every single time he’d fucked me: The aborted BDSM scene, the later retake that had replaced it, and that night in his bedroom when no cameras had been on us. I got the distinct feeling he wasn’t buying that they’d meant nothing to me.
I hoped my natural darker complexion hid the intense blush those memories brought to my face. I turned back to the painting of Chris. I remembered his body, the feel of his skin under my fingers, his mouth on my neck, his cock in my ass.
But none of it had even begun to touch what I’d felt when I’d been with Cane.
And, goddammit, I didn’t want to always compare lovers to him. I should have left well enough alone. If it had just been on camera, I could have attributed it to good acting, but when I allowed myself to really remember the details of that night, I knew I’d seen something in his eyes. Something he’d chosen to stamp out.
Cane seemed determined to remain uninvolved with anyone, and rather than put me off, as it should, that knowledge piqued my interest no matter how many times I told myself to leave it alone.
My phone rang, and I looked at the screen. I didn’t recognize the number.
“Excuse me,” I said to Cane before answering. “Hello?”
“Hello, is this Tony Sarto?”
“Yes, it is.”
“This is Karl Bruder. We met last night. I was dining with my cousin Cane and spoke to you about perhaps designing a website for me.”
“Yes, I remember.” I glanced at Cane, but he was studying the painting again.
“Could you possibly meet me this evening at, say, seven o’clock? I can text you the address.”
“Certainly. That would be fine.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see you then.” He disconnected, and a moment later, an address in Manhattan popped up on the screen. I opened my mouth to tell Cane his cousin had called me but suddenly changed my mind. Cane was so secretive, and I had a meeting with his cousin—the perfect opportunity to find out more about him.
I finished my coffee and stood. “Have a good day,” I told Cane, and when his blue eyes met mine and he smiled, a stab of shame ran through me for going behind his back. But I shook it off and retreated into the house.
I met a freshly showered Nick coming out of the bathroom.
“Where did those come from?” I asked, indicating the clothes he wore that were not what he’d had on the night before.
“They were in the closet in Cane’s room. I think they’re Morgan’s.” He smiled. “Good thing Cane was already up, or I couldn’t have gotten in there. I’m heading over to the warehouse. What are your plans for the day?”
“I have a meeting later. I think I’ll work on Dallas’s website until I have to get ready. See you later.”
I headed down the stairs for my makeshift office in the basement.
****
At ten minutes to seven, after showing my ID to security, I rode the mahogany-paneled elevator to the seventh floor of the luxurious Bruder building on the Upper West Side. The doors opened with a soft ding, and I stepped out into a wide open space. I immediately spotted Karl Bruder, who rose from a chair where he’d been talking to an attractive Asian woman and approached me, hand held out and a
smile on his face. He was a much larger man than I’d realized when he’d been seated at a table at Lux, and I thought the expensive suit he wore had to have been tailored to fit him. He looked surprisingly fresh for the end of the work day, and although I’d showered before coming and taken pains with my appearance, I suddenly felt dingy in my casual attire of dark jeans and blazer.
“Mr. Sarto. Thank you for agreeing to meet on such short notice,” Bruder said, smiling. “Would you like a drink? Coffee, water, or perhaps a cocktail? At this hour of the day I usually have a whiskey.”
“White wine would be nice, thank you. And please call me Tony.”
Bruder spoke to the woman, who I gathered was the receptionist, before guiding me into a nearby board room. I started to put my messenger bag on the long table when Bruder said, “Let’s sit over here by the window; it will be more comfortable.” He indicated a couple of low, black leather armchairs arranged in front of the glass window that made up one wall. Laid out before us, New York City sparkled with lights in the winter evening.
“These offices are gorgeous,” I said.
Bruder hung his suit jacket on the back of a chair and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, revealing bulging muscles underneath. “Thank you. I own the building and live in the penthouse.”
That explained his fresh look. He’d probably gone upstairs for a shower and change before our meeting. Cane’s cousin was obviously quite well off, and it made me wonder about Cane’s sparse way of living. Surely he made enough money to live somewhere rather than an MC clubhouse with a bunch of messy guys.
“What sort of business do you do?” I asked when the receptionist had brought us our drinks and left again.
“I have several businesses, but the largest is vitamin supplements,” Bruder said. “B-Natural supplements. Have you heard of our stores?”
“Of course,” I said. “A very popular brand.”
Bruder looked pleased. “The website I want updated, though, is for a side business called After Hours Escorts.”
I raised a brow. “Escorts?”
Bruder chuckled. “I know how it sounds, but believe it or not, many of the rich here in the city require an attractive, intelligent person on their arm for various benefits and engagements. Not to mention dignitaries from out of town who would rather dine with a companion than alone.” He gave me a piercing look. “Surely Cane’s mentioned it.”
I shook my head.
“No?” Bruder shrugged. “Then again, Cane isn’t much of a talker. After Hours has expanded quite a bit in the past year. I’m not particularly happy with the looks of the website we have now. I’m hoping you can update it. Give it a new look.”
Having seen the opulence of the office, I had to wonder something. I leaned forward in my chair. “Let’s be frank. Why me? I’m on my own, and I would imagine a business as large as yours would want to work with a company.”
“Working with large companies is so impersonal. People come and go. As a friend of Cane’s, you’re like family.”
Satisfied, I said, “All right. What is it you have in mind for your website?”
Bruder reached for a laptop on a side table and brought the site up for me.
“I want every wealthy visitor to our city to think taste, security, and quality when they pull up After Hours Escorts. This” —He indicated the screen— “just doesn’t do that.”
I clicked a few links. “I have to agree with you. It’s a little flashy for what you’ve described. I would do a completely different background cover, and this font is all wrong for what you’re trying to project.” I put out a few ideas, and Bruder responded with interest. Before I knew it, the lights in the outer offices began switching off and quiet overtook the building. I’d finished a second glass of wine while Bruder and I huddled over the laptop.
The receptionist entered. “If there’s nothing else, I’m going upstairs.”
I was a little taken aback when Bruder got to his feet and kissed her on the mouth. “See you shortly.”
She left, closing the door softly behind her.
Bruder smiled at my expression. “My girlfriend, Shika. Beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Very,” I agreed, musing that Bruder must be bisexual rather than gay as I’d assumed when I’d seen him at Lux. I felt sure he was a member and not Cane who, judging from what I’d seen of him, would never belong to such an exclusive club.
Bruder looked at his watch. “It’s getting late. Do you think you have enough to work with? I’ll email you the contract.”
I nodded. “It will be a week or so before I’ll have something to show you.”
“That works for me.”
Bruder led me to the elevators. I wasn’t sure what I thought about him. He was pleasant and businesslike and certainly rich, but for some reason he made me think of a highly varnished piece of cheap furniture.
He accompanied me down to the lobby and saw me out of the building. I imagined I felt his eyes on me as I walked to the Uber I’d called, but when I turned to look, he was gone.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cane
“Your club brother, Tony, is working on our After Hours website,” Karl said. “He came to see me last night.”
I was glad we were speaking over the phone so Karl couldn’t see the horror on my face. As it was, Hung gave me a curious look from where he was eating at the kitchen table. I turned my back to him and slipped out onto the screened-in porch. “I told you I want my private life and business to remain separate,” I told Karl for what seemed like the dozenth time in the past few days, working hard to rein in my anger and losing the battle fast. I’d seen Karl take Tony’s card, but I’d hoped he’d only been trying to make me angry. I should have realized and warned Tony. The idea that he had been to see my cousin turned my blood cold.
“That’s ridiculous. From what I’ve heard about motorcycle clubs, they’re tight-knit groups. Family. And your family is my family. It only makes sense that we would hire family to do work for us. Tony agrees, and he’s a very talented young man. He should have been working for us ages ago.”
I closed my eyes and pinched my nose between my finger and thumb. Arguing would only make things worse. I didn’t want Karl to know how much this mattered to me. How much Tony mattered to me. “He’s been away for a long time, and besides—my club knows nothing about your business dealings.”
“Our business dealings,” Karl corrected. “And I didn’t mention anything other than what is on the up and up.”
I took a deep, cleansing breath. There was nothing I could do about the situation at this point. My only hope was for Tony to work quickly and to convince him never to work with Karl again. “Tony will do a good job for us,” I said.
“I agree. He seems very talented. If this works out, our relationship could be mutually beneficial.”
I wanted to growl at him that he and Tony would have any kind of relationship over my dead body, but I knew it would be a grave mistake to show strong emotion on the subject. I listened to Karl talk about other things, feeling as though my life was spiraling out of my control, and when we disconnected I immediately went in search of Tony.
I found him down in the basement, not working on his laptop—although it sat open on the table—but circling the weighted bag hanging from the ceiling, making sharp jabs at it with his bare fists. He’d taken off his shirt and his lean, muscular chest was slick with sweat. His jogging pants hung low on his narrow hips, revealing the two tempting divots on each side of his spine above his tailbone.
Tony paused, fists raised, when I entered and looked questioningly at me.
“You should wrap your hands when you do that,” I said. “You could break a bone and not be able to work or paint.”
Sweat had turned Tony’s blond waves to the color of wet sand, making his eyes look a deeper blue than usual.
“It’ll be okay,” he said, resuming his workout, alternating jabs and straights at the bag.
I reached for the wraps on
the shelf.
“Stop,” I said and when he turned to me again, stepped closer. “Let me wrap them.”
Tony eyed me warily before relenting and holding out his right hand. Looping his thumb, I pulled the wrap over the back of his hand and three times around his knuckles before stretching it toward his wrist to do the same, all the while reveling in the opportunity to touch him even a small amount. I glanced up and was momentarily caught in the snare of his gaze, which held mine until I pulled my attention back to my task. When I’d wrapped through his fingers and around his wrist one more time, I made a couple of X patterns over his hand and secured the wrap. As I repeated the process with his left hand, I said, “I’ll bet you didn’t expect a hand job when I came down here.”
Tony snorted, and I looked up. Our eyes met again, and his deepened from amused to something else entirely. My heart sped up and I quickly secured the second wrap.
“Thanks,” he said, flexing his hands. I stepped away and watched him go at the bag for a while. When he’d tired himself out, I handed him a water bottle from the fridge in the corner.
“Come down here just to watch me exercise?” Tony asked, collapsing onto the pile of bean bags on the floor and looking up at me.
“I wanted to talk to you.” I pulled the straight-back chair from behind Tony’s makeshift desk and sat on it backward, resting my chin on my arms.
“About what?”
I watched Tony’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed the water, his neck glistening with sweat, and tried and failed to keep my gaze from wandering downward to the small brown nipples on his smooth chest, which brought back vivid memories of him straddling me as he lowered himself onto my cock. I’d loved the way he’d moaned and arched his back when I’d pinched them.
I cleared my throat. I needed to say what I’d sought him out to say and get out of there. “It’s not a good idea for you to get involved with my cousin.”
Tony huffed out a laugh. “I don’t know what he told you, but I’m hardly getting involved with him. I’m revamping his website, for which he is paying me. That’s my job.”
“Karl has a way of using the people he comes into close contact with.”
The Hacker and his Heart's Desire Page 6