Kyle’s eyes widened. “Then why come to a place like this? Isn’t the temptation too great?”
Louis laughed. “That’s like asking a man who has given up drinking whether he can walk into a pub without succumbing. No, I choose to remind myself of how I ruined my life the first time around by coming in here. It tells me what I have achieved so far has been worth it.” He flashed a grin at Kyle. “And it allows me to make new friends.”
They clicked glasses again.
“You never did answer my original question about why you left there,” Louis said musingly. “If you do not wish to say, then please, tell me to mind my own business.”
Kyle had no intention of telling anyone why he’d left. Instead he shrugged and put on a blank face. “I got tired of the glitz and glamour and never having any time to myself. I moved back to the U.K. to have an easier life, and I love it here. I’m settled now.”
“I see.” Louis nodded thoughtfully. “Then we shall leave that as the explanation.”
Louis knew there was more to Kyle’s leaving than that. Damn, the man was perceptive.
Kyle’s mobile vibrated in his pocket and he smiled apologetically. “Let me just get this. It’s probably my friend Lucinda. She was going to meet me here after her night out.”
He checked the voice message on his phone. Sure enough, it was from Luce. “Hey, London, I’m not gonna make it.” Her voice was slurred yet happy. “I met up with this sexy lady who wants to fly me to Paris—don’t worry, I know her, she’s no stranger—so we’re on our way to the airfield now.” She giggled. “Oops, sorry, Lanie. Didn’t mean to spill my drink on you.” There was a soft murmur and Luce burst into a peal of laughter. “Wow, that’s just, I don’t know what to say. Maybe wait until we’re on the plane instead of the taxi?”
There was a crackle and a sound Kyle really didn’t want to interpret. It was wet, sloppy and reeked of sexual activity of some sort. Kissing, he hoped. Then Luce’s voice spoke again, dreamy and far away. “Anyway, have fun and I’ll talk to you when I get back, whenever that it is. Love you, baby.”
The message ended. Sighing, Kyle put his phone back into his pocket and met Louis’s enquiring gaze. “She’s flying to Paris,” he murmured. “From the sounds of it, she’s having fun.”
Louis’s eyes gleamed in satisfaction. “Then I have you all to myself for the night. Shall we get another drink?”
Kyle thought he might as well. It was only eleven and he wasn’t ready to go home yet. Eric wasn’t waiting in his bed so what the fuck did he have to lose?
“Yep, let’s do this. Except this is my round. I don’t expect to be a kept man.”
Oh God, and now he was flirting.
Louis laughed loudly. “Kyle, I am quite sure of it. Yes, you can buy me a cocktail. A hanky-panky if you please.”
Kyle hooted with mirth. “One hanky-panky coming up. Although there’ll be none of that tonight.” He cast a mock glare at Louis who collapsed in amusement.
“Ah, we shall see about that. I am sure we can put our minds to mischief if we think about it.”
As Kyle motioned the waiter over, he felt a warm glow inside. Tonight was turning out to be rather pleasant after all. Making new friends wasn’t so tough.
A week later, Kyle was in Club Delish helping Ryan take in a new alcohol order. They held their respective stock sheets and ticked off the deliveries one by one. It was a cool day outside but inside the bar it was warm. Sweat trickled down Kyle’s back as he stood there.
As usual, Ryan looked completely in control and effortlessly together. The man didn’t even have a sheen of perspiration on his face, unlike Kyle who’d rolled up his shirtsleeves and untucked his shirt to let air circulate around his body
“Are you looking forward to Eric coming back tomorrow?” Ryan raised an eyebrow at Kyle, who scowled.
“Oh, did he go away? I hadn’t noticed.” Kyle turned and placed his stock sheet on the bar as he studied it without seeing. He hadn’t had any other texts since the last one of Eric with the busty blonde.
Ryan sniggered. “You’ve been like a bear whose favourite twink has been taken away, darling. Don’t try to fool me. Delilah knows better.”
Kyle’s face burned. Am I that transparent? Oh, yeah. This is Ryan.
“I don’t really care whether he’s back or not,” Kyle declared loftily. “I met some really nice guy at the casino the other night and we’ve been hanging out. Eric coming back is neither here nor there.”
He and Louis had been seeing each other as friends. They’d been to a film and dinner at Galileo’s, where Kyle had met the famous and oh-so-cute head chef Eddie. Kyle loved men with red hair and Eddie had been adorable. And from the way Gideon, the restaurant owner, kept a predatory eye on him, he obviously thought so too.
Ryan sidled up to him. “Liar,” he said softly. He reached out a hand as if to pat Kyle’s arm then pulled it back.
“You don’t have to do that,” Kyle muttered. “You can touch me if you want to.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes. “You seem a little skittish around people who touch you. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“I’m only uncomfortable with guys who seem…threatening.” Kyle couldn’t meet Ryan’s eyes in case he saw the shame there. “My friends don’t count among them.”
Ryan growled. Actually, growled. “I knew someone had done a number on you. If you ever want to talk about it, you know I’m here.” He gave Kyle an awkward pat on the back then turned to finish his stock count. Kyle was relieved beyond measure Ryan hadn’t pushed the issue, and had simply given an offer of support.
“Thanks,” Kyle said gruffly and picked up another lengthy stock sheet. They had a lot to go through before the club opened tonight. Wednesday night was Leather Night and they were expecting quite a crowd.
Later that evening, sandwiched between two muscle-bound leather daddies making out on the floor as Kyle tried to navigate back to the bar and check on the stock and general goings-on, he spotted a familiar figure talking to Ryan in a quieter spot of the club.
Eric was back. Kyle’s stomach fluttered and he couldn’t stop the tingle that spread through his body at seeing his wayward paramedic. He ignored the flush of warmth and pretended he hadn’t seen Eric. Kyle knew he was being childish, but he couldn’t help it.
His plans were thwarted when someone shouted his name across the floor.
“Kyle.” Dammit. “Eric’s here. Do you want to say hello?” Kyle scowled at Ryan, whose face shone with glee. Or perhaps Mr Always Perfectly Groomed had sweat on his face, Kyle thought uncharitably. He’d no option but to turn and make his way toward the pair.
Eric looked amazing. Tanned, chestnut hair curly, and he was wearing a white cut-off vest with tight black jeans. The man looked edible enough to eat right there. Kyle wanted to bite the face off the young man behind Eric eyeing him with a distinct look of appreciation and lust.
Mine, he wanted to growl. All mine. Fuck off. And yet he had no idea whether Eric was his or not.
Getting closer, he swore inwardly. Crap. Ryan was as impeccable as ever, no trace of perspiration.
Eric smiled uncertainly. “Hey, Kyle. How are you doing?”
Kyle waved a purple-tipped hand airily. “Oh, I’m good. Out and about.”
Eric nodded. “That’s good. Good.” He cleared his throat and glanced around.
Kyle couldn’t resist it. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow? At least, that’s what someone told me. I didn’t know first-hand of course.”
His snarky comment had a visible effect on both Eric and Ryan. Ryan snorted with laughter and turned around with a flap of his hand. “I’m going to leave you bitches to sort things out. See ya.” He disappeared into the throng.
Eric, however, looked shamefaced. “Yeah, ’bout that. I’m sorry I didn’t call but where we were had a bad signal. We had satellite phones up on the mountain, but personal calls weren’t really allowed.”
Kyle reache
d up and ran a hand through his hair, trying to look nonchalant. “Oh, don’t bother to explain. I understand…wait. What do you mean they didn’t allow you personal calls? I thought you were on holiday in the US?”
Eric gaped at him. “The US? No, I was in France for work. I was in a remote holiday spot on a private estate filling in for a friend of mine who broke his leg. Why did you think I was in America?”
“Ryan said you were backpacking in the Grand Canyon. I assumed that was the US?
Eric laughed. “Ah, that would be because I was at Verdon Gorge. It’s called the Grand Canyon of Europe. Ryan must have got confused.”
Kyle felt a little stupid, but still riled. “I had no idea there was another one in bloody France.”
“And I wasn’t backpacking.” Eric explained. “Not in the true sense. I was a medic up there in one of the fancy retreats run by some billionaire bloke. The guests all go off hiking and skiing, and they like a medic or two on call. It’s good work, well paid, so I took it when my mate David couldn’t go. He broke his leg.”
“Oh.” Kyle wasn’t sure what to say. It seemed a reasonable something for Eric to do given his day job, and perhaps Kyle had judged Eric too harshly. He’d been out saving lives after all. How could Kyle stay annoyed with him?
Eric reached out with a soft smile and caressed Kyle’s cheek. “Did you get my texts? I managed to get away to the town for a little bit when we picked up supplies. Signal wasn’t great but I managed to get to the top of the mountain nearby. Thought I’d let you know I was okay.”
“Oh, I could see that,” Kyle said. “The picture of you with the full-breasted lady was a nice touch. I thought you might have changed sides.”
“Someone jealous?” Eric’s eyes darkened and Kyle’s knees weakened.
Kyle huffed. “No. We don’t have a claim on each other. I don’t care what you do when you’re away.” He turned to the barman and asked for a snakebite shot. He needed it.
“I think you do,” Eric said with a grin. “That full-breasted lady was the wife of the owner of the resort. Happily married as well.”
“Whatever.” Kyle knocked back the shot the barman had pushed over to him.
Eric snorted. “No, not jealous at all,” he remarked. Then his face shadowed. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I went that I was going away. Things at work got hairy. It was pretty stressful and before I knew it, I was on the plane.” He gave a wry grimace. “I wasn’t really good company at the time so I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me being all depressed.”
Kyle motioned for another drink and looked at Eric. “You want anything?”
Eric nodded and Kyle ordered two snakebites.
“Is that the real reason you didn’t tell me you were going away?” he snapped. “Because you feared my sensibilities may take offence at the fact you’d had a bad day and felt shitty and you’d taint me with it?”
Eric blinked. “Yeah, I suppose…I wouldn’t have put it that way, but yeah, I guess so.”
“Well, perhaps next time you can stop thinking I’m some sort of blushing virgin and let me know you’re out of town for two weeks, Mister.” Kyle’s tone rose a faction as he went into drama mode.
Shit. He’d just done exactly what he’d said he wasn’t going to. He’d staked a claim on the man. He downed his shot in frustration and slammed it on the bar.
Eric watched him through shuttered eyes, reaching for him and pressing their bodies together. The hard ridge in Eric’s pants nudged Kyle’s.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen—you getting all toppy on my arse.” Eric murmured in Kyle’s ear.
Kyle opened his mouth to say he absolutely wasn’t, and found it filled with tongue. His lips were taken in a kiss that made his cock harder and sent thrills through his body he imagined were akin to being shocked by a pulse of warm electricity.
He heard a moan and was mortified to find out it was him. Eric lavished attention on his mouth as if were the tastiest thing he’d ever eaten. Kyle was thoroughly enjoying being the dish of the day. Dimly he was aware that he was making out during his work shift in the middle of Ryan’s club, but he didn’t care.
Warm hands slid under his shirt and sent ripples of fire down his skin and straight into his groin. Waves of desire and need spread like warm smoke through his body and he knew if he didn’t stop this, he was going to come in his pants.
That would not be a good public look for the house manager of Club Delish. Ryan would castrate him.
Reluctantly, he pulled away, regretting the loss of Eric’s hungry mouth the second he did. “I’m still mad with you. And I’m supposed to be working, not fucking about on the dance floor.”
“Then maybe later I can fuck you on the floor.” Eric trailed a finger across Kyle’s swollen and wet lips.
Kyle wanted to melt into a puddle of goo simply at the prospect of his promised debauchery. “Oh God, you can’t say things like to me here.”
He rejoiced as he looked down to see yes, his silk tuxedo jacquard jacket was covering most of his excited groin from view.
Eric slid a hand across Kyle’s cock, his eyes dark and liquid. “I can if it gets you to not be mad with me.” He squeezed and bent down for another kiss.
Kyle stepped back, noticing the bartender’s amused grin along with other patrons who watched them like sharks scenting blood. He had no doubt if he turned around and snapped his fingers right then, he’d have a horde of them begging to be the meat in a Kyle and Eric sandwich.
“No,” he said as firmly as he could muster, given his aroused state. “This isn’t happening right now. If you really want to apologise to me, you can pick me up after work so I don’t have to navigate the tube to yours and take me back to your place. I get off at two.” Only four more hours to go. “Then we can look at the whole ‘fuck on the floor’ scenario. If you’re not too tired, that is.”
“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Eric drawled, his eyes darting to something behind Kyle. “Not sure you’ll make it though.” He began to laugh softly.
Kyle turned and looked right into icy blue eyes that bore into his brain like a drill.
“Having fun, are we?” Ryan purred and Kyle’s stomach roiled. Delilah was making an appearance. “I confess, I thought I was clear when I said in my job interviews my employees should set an example on the club floor and not commence fucking in plain sight.”
“We weren’t actually fucking,” Kyle said piteously, “We were just—”
Ryan waved a finger. “Tut-tut. It was certainly fucking—of the mouth.”
Kyle looked into the crowd, his hard-on now shrivelled to nothing in the face of Ryan’s—or was it Delilah’s? Sometimes the two were indistinguishable—wilting glare.
“Now, Kyle darling.” Ryan’s silky voice was both dangerous and teasing. “Do you think you could get back to work and leave your sexual liaisons until you get off at twelve?”
He opened his mouth to say his shift didn’t end until two am and shut it promptly at the amused glint in Ryan’s eyes. God, I have the best boss and job ever. “Yes, I can keep it in my pants until then. Eric, pick me up at twelve, okay? I’ll meet you in the staff car park.”
Ryan acknowledged Kyle with a regal tilt of his head then winked at Eric. Without a backward glance, in that way he had, he glided off toward the staircase to his office.
Kyle took a deep breath. “Well, that didn’t go as badly as it could have. See you later then? I’d better get back to work before Ryan-Delilah really lets me have it.”
“It’s a date.” Eric turned to go, his hair mussed and unruly where Kyle had run his hands through it. “And I look forward to the floor show.” He grinned and Kyle’s thoughts turned dark and raunchy. He suppressed them manfully.
“Let’s hope I’m good enough a performer for you then. See you at twelve.”
Kyle blew a kiss to Eric, turned and made his way to the front desk, rolling his eyes in despair at his easy submission into needy pushover.
<
br /> Chapter Ten
God, that man is going to be the death of me. He kisses like sin.
Kyle’s mouth was a sinful smorgasbord of sheer aggression and no-holds-barred tongue action, and for one moment Eric thought he might suffocate. The man knew how to work his body too. Every press of his against Eric’s, every sneaky touch of his fingers on skin and the heat-inducing cock rubs against Eric’s groin—God. Kyle had no idea how lethal he was to Eric’s sanity.
Or maybe he did.
When Eric reached home and got into the shower, anxious to prepare for Kyle’s visit, he reran his mental video to recall every moment of that kiss in exquisite detail. More than once his hands drifted down to his cock, which begged for release. He wasn’t sure what was better—beating off in the shower to take the edge off, or waiting for Kyle to do it for him.
He settled on rubbing one out, knowing that if he got inside Kyle in his current state Eric would be likely to blow too soon. He wanted to seduce Kyle until he cried Eric’s name, and then he would take his time sliding into Kyle as they enjoyed a leisurely session that made them both gasp and come their brains out.
Kyle deserved to be cherished, like a fine port.
Eric dressed in loose sweats and a long-sleeve tee-shirt to pick up Kyle. Eric drove his rarely used white 1972 MGB Roadster, nicknamed Little Lady, which was parked outside his house, ready to go. It had been a birthday present from his parents on his twenty-first birthday.
He’d already fixed the tonneau cover, thinking it was a bit too chilly to have the car’s roof down.
He set out into the chilly night air. It might only be a few miles away, but London traffic could be a bitch any time of the night or day.
Eric got to the club just before twelve and parked behind the venue in a small car park reserved only for employees. Ryan had been gracious about letting him park Little Lady there, muttering something about fools with cars and their obsessions with scraps of smoke puking metal.
Eric wasn’t even sure Ryan could drive, let alone whether he owned a car.
Survival Game (Men of London Book 9) Page 10