Hot Male

by Lillian Grant

  He hit end and used the facilities. As he washed his hands he stared at his reflection. He hadn’t shaved for two days. He looked as horrible as he felt. With sobriety came the numbing pain that he was alone. Nearly thirty years old with no one to love and no one to call his own.

  He tugged on a pair of shorts, and then made his way to the sofa before bringing up Chad’s number and hitting the call button.

  The phone only rang twice. “Hi, Michael. It’s Sam. We need to talk.”

  Michael rested his head on his free hand and held back a groan. When life had kicked you up the arse once you really didn’t anticipate it doing it to you again quite so soon. Sam must have had second thoughts about what had happened in Ireland and wanted to make sure Michael was staying away. Although, why he was using Chad’s phone, he had no idea. He didn’t want an argument, he just wanted a fresh glass of whiskey and to go back to sleep. His mind slowly kicked into gear and he wondered if Sam was calling for another reason. He took a deep breath as his stomach roiled. “Did something happen to Maggie? God, don’t tell me something happened to Maggie.”

  “No. Meg’s fine. She’s fine. You need to come home.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Nothing. Nothing happened. She misses you. Meg misses you.”

  Michael had a fleeting idea to agree to return but then the realization of having to live life where he kept her at arm’s length brought him to his senses. “I can’t.”

  “Do you have somewhere else you need to be?”

  Michael closed his eyes. “No. I just don’t think it would be a good idea. Maggie has you.”

  “What if I said I want you to come back?”

  “Why would you want me to come back?”

  “Do I have to spell it out?”

  Michael’s head was pounding, he could barely see straight. “I guess you do.”

  “Come home, Michael. You belong with Maggie.”

  “What about you?”

  “Come home and tell her how you feel.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I heard what you told her before you left. I know you love her. You’ve nothing to fear from me. For fuck’s sake come home and tell her when she can hear you and you may be surprised at the answer she gives.”

  Hope bubbled inside him but he pushed it back down. Maggie was with Sam. “And what about you?”

  “Are you really going to make me say it?”

  “Say what?”

  “Come home, you stupid Irish git. If Maggie agrees, I want you as part of our lives.”

  A grin spread across Michael’s face. The first time he had smiled in weeks. “Are you saying you love me?”

  Sam laughed. “I’m saying get your fat Irish arse home. Have you got a pen and paper?”

  Michael tugged the newspaper to the edge of the coffee table and lifted a pencil. “Sure.”

  “I’ll give you my number. Call once you have your flight arranged.”

  “Very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  Chapter 51

  Meg turned and watched as Sam wandered through from the bathroom dressed in a pair of jeans, rubbing his damp hair with a towel.

  He looked her up and down. “Are you going to get changed?”

  “Why?”

  “I told you, we’re expecting company.”

  “What company? You had better not have invited the boys over for a poker night.”

  Sam grinned. “Nope.”

  “You didn’t invite my parent’s for dinner, did you?”

  “Now, would I be that cruel?”

  “So who’s coming, then?”

  Sam leaned over the back of the sofa and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I left something on our bed for you to slip into.”

  With a sigh of resignation she tossed the remote on the sofa and headed down the hall. She shoved the bedroom door open and shook her head. Men! The dress was barely more than a scrap of beaded pale blue silk. He must have bought it for her. He might have picked the dress, but she needed underwear. She lifted the dress and held it against her. Strike that, she needed panties. No bra on earth would fit beneath the miniscule bodice.

  She crossed the room and rifled through her lingerie drawer.

  “No pants.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at Sam who was leaning against the doorframe. “What?”

  He threw his towel away and walked to the closet. “Don’t wear any pants.”

  “Are you mad? Why would I want to go commando when we’re entertaining guests?”

  He opened the cupboard door and chose a white shirt. Once he’d tugged it on, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He looked into her eyes. “Trust me on this. You don’t need them.” She sighed as he let her go. Sam reached back into the cupboard and pulled out a pair of blue strappy sandals. “You will need these, though.”

  He dropped them on the bed and left her to get dressed. She spent half an hour squeezing into the dress, doing her makeup, and finally slipping on the shoes. Whatever he had planned, she guessed she was ready for it. With one last check in the mirror to make sure the dress didn’t reveal her lack of underwear, she left the room.

  Sam was sitting in the kitchen but got to his feet when he saw her. His whistle of appreciation made her smile. He crossed to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne.

  “What are we celebrating?”

  He grinned. “You’ll see.”

  Before she could ask anything else, the front doorbell sounded. “Is that our guests?”

  Sam shrugged. “A bit early, but I guess you’ll only find out if you open the door.”

  Meg made her way through the lounge and swung the door open. “Maud and Declan.” She glanced back at Sam. Why the hell did she have no knickers on with Maud in the house?

  Maud shoved her aside. “We’re not stopping. I promised Declan a blowjob.”

  Declan had the decency to look embarrassed at the old lady’s confession.

  Meg shut the door behind them. Maud grabbed a glass of champagne from Sam and swallowed it in one. “I guess you heard already.”

  Sam glared at her and snatched the glass back. “Heard what?”

  “The cops are dropping the charges.”

  Meg sat on the edge of the coffee table, suddenly feeling sick. How was this good news? “They’re letting Clara go?”

  Maud sighed. “No, dumb arse. They’re letting you go. I expect they’ll be in touch eventually. Oh, for God’s sake smile, will you?”

  “I won’t have to go to court for being a pimp? How come?”

  Declan chuckled. “Seems Maud had a memory lapse when she was arrested. She’s just been in and told them that you had nothing to do with it. She hadn’t been paying for Michael’s services. He was her boyfriend.”

  “Michael?”

  Maud put her hand on Meg’s forehead. “Are you sick or something? Michael. The stripper. Declan’s nephew. You do remember him, don’t you?”

  Meg felt her face flush and she glanced at Sam. He winked at her. “She remembers.”

  “So, don’t I even get a hug? Maybe this will get your attention.” Maud flashed her hand under Meg’s nose. A huge diamond caught the light.

  “Shit, Maud.”

  The old lady laughed. “Nope, a bloody great big diamond. Declan asked me to marry him. We’re planning a big shindig back in Ireland and you’re invited.”

  “When? How?”

  “We figured we’d combine it with giving evidence at Clara’s court case. And how, well, that was why he went to Dublin. Romantic old bugger. He even got down on one knee after I got out of hospital. It took us twenty minutes to get him back on his feet.”

  Something good had come out of the horrible mess and now Maud would be Declan’s problem. Meg threw herself at Maud and hugged her tight. “Congratulations.”

  Maud patted her back. “Okay, that’s enough. I need to breathe.”

  Meg let her go and followed the couple to the front door. Declan led Maud outside
and turned to smile at them. “I guess this makes us family.” He winked at Meg. “Nice dress.”

  Michael got to his feet and stretched. The flight had been long and tiring. Thankfully, he’d stopped off in Singapore and caught a few hours sleep, a shower, and a change of clothes, but he’d decided to lay off shaving. The stubbly look was growing on him. Even with the face fuzz, he felt almost human.

  He lifted his bag from the overhead locker and joined the shuffle toward the exit. A check of his watch showed it was later than he had anticipated. He had no idea whether this was a good idea or not. He hadn’t planned to come back. He didn’t know what he planned to do other than drink. He would probably still be wallowing in his own misery if he hadn’t got the call. This could be the biggest mistake of his life, but he had to take a chance and see it through. He knew there were no promises and no guarantees. His whole life hung in the balance, and he couldn’t move forward without tying up this last loose end. If things didn’t work out there was a whole world to explore. Nothing would be left for him in Australia.

  Thankfully, he cleared customs and immigration without a hitch. His car was where he’d left it in the long stay parking lot when he’d flown to Dublin. He stowed his bags and slipped behind the wheel, gunning the Porsche’s engine to life. He blew out a long breath and reversed out of the space and headed for the exit.

  The drive gave him time to practice some lines in his head. All cheesy and none he could use. What did you say in a situation like this? Funny, he’d always been so confident and ready with a quip or smart comment, but that was when the response didn’t matter. He pulled down a suburban side street and parked behind a beaten-up Korean hatchback.

  He climbed out of his car and pondered whether he should take his bags with him. Maybe not. Best to see how the land lies first. If the whole thing went tits-up he could walk away with dignity and return to his as yet unleased apartment, before planning the next step in the disaster that was his life.

  After one last deep breath, he tugged his long leather coat straight, running his finger over the bullet hole before heading up the driveway. He rapped on the door with his knuckles and waited.

  *

  Meg looked at Sam. “Who is it?”

  Sam chuckled. “Why do you keep asking me that? How would I know?”

  “You know. You’re up to something.”

  “Maybe you should answer the door before they leave.”

  Meg crossed the room and pulled the door open. Michael smiled, and she felt like her heart sank to her stomach. “Michael.”

  Michael was back. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead of doing either, she wrapped her arms around herself to stop from hugging him. Other than the designer stubble, he looked just the same. Long hair, white shirt, leather pants and the ever-present coat, but something had changed about him. His eyes were dull and his usual ready smile and flirty comment was missing. Was his sullen mood her fault? Had he heard her whispered declaration as they fell asleep after sex, and run away? But why would he come back? Nothing made sense.

  Sam stepped up next to her and held out his hand. Michael clasped it and Sam tugged him through the door and into a hug. They patted each other on the back. Meg watched, dumbstruck. Where had Michael come from? Why was Sam suddenly treating him like a long lost friend? And why was she wearing no knickers? The last question made her face flush. Oh God. Sam must have invited him over for sex, and he must have agreed. She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t sure she would ever be ready for casual sex with Michael again.

  The two men pulled apart and Sam reached over to close the door. “Don’t you have a greeting for Michael?”

  She forced a smile, determined to play it cool. “Hi, Michael.”

  Sam chuckled. “I think you can be a little more enthusiastic.”

  Michael held out his arms, and she walked into his embrace. He hugged her tight. The crushing pain in her chest made breathing difficult, and she fought back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. His hand rubbed soothing circles on her back, and she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The warm scent of sandalwood filled her nose, and she closed her eyes. Certain Sam must be getting jealous, she tipped her face up to ask him to let her go. His dark-eyed stare turned her mute, and she offered no protest when he brushed his lips against hers. Before she could pull away he ran his tongue along her bottom lip, and she sank into his kiss, moaning as he plundered her mouth. She cupped his face, stroking his new sexy stubble before her hands strayed to his long hair. She held on tight as he clasped her arse and pushed against her, leaving her in no doubt the kiss was exhilarating for both of them.

  The sound of the bell brought her to her senses. She escaped his embrace and ran to answer the door, making sure not to look at either man as they hovered behind her. A young pizza boy stood outside, his facial expression a masterpiece of complete boredom. Money changed hands, and she clutched the pizzas like a life raft.

  Sam tugged the boxes free. “Why don’t you get some plates and I’ll put these on the table.” She did as instructed, dipping her head so as not to meet Michael’s gaze. The kiss they shared had been sizzling, and sex with him had been magnificent but that had happened a long way from home. Now he was standing in their living room the idea of a three-way sexfest seemed unimaginable. What would the neighbors think? What would her mother think? Letting Sam tie her up and spank her was bad enough without adding another man to the pot. And anyway, Sam hated Michael. And she didn’t hate him anymore. She risked a glance and then turned away. Things had gotten a whole lot more complicated since they’d been to Ireland.

  A warm hand brushed her shoulder, and she jumped. She hugged the plates to her chest and turned, coming face-to-face with Sam. “Relax, baby. It’s just dinner.”

  She glanced around him to see Michael sitting at the table, swallowing a glass of champagne. His dark eyes focused on her. The lust within sent a heat wave flowing through her body, and she looked away.

  Sam ran a hand up and down her arm. “Unless you want it to be more. You’re in the driver’s seat.”

  “Do you want it to be more? Do you want to have sex with Michael?”

  Sam smiled. “I loved watching you enjoying yourself, but Michael is not my type. If you want to include him we can work things out.”

  Sam said it could be more, but how much more? Was he suggesting another roll in the hay with both of them? Could she settle for just sex? If that was all that was on offer, could she say no? Meg’s heart raced at the prospect of both men being in her bed. Even if it only happened once more, she wanted it. But she was sure Sam would prefer the other man be anyone but Michael. On the other hand, she couldn’t contemplate inviting someone else to join in. “I won’t if it upsets you.”

  “You’ve missed him.”

  Meg shook her head.

  Sam tipped her face up and brushed a thumb over her cheek. “You’ve missed him. You said so. I know you better than you know yourself, Meg Riley. You’ve been pining for him. The fact you’re tied in knots now he’s here is proof enough. If you hated him you would have tossed his arse out the door. Michael has got you hooked on some deeper level than just sex.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I love you.”

  “I know you do. But that doesn’t mean you have to deny you have some unfortunate connection to the Irish git. Now, let’s eat before the food goes cold.”

  Meg followed him to the table and took a seat. Michael lifted his glass and tipped it toward her before sipping the contents. He licked his lips, and the sight of his tongue sent heat coursing through her veins. She felt her face flush as she remembered how magical his mouth could be.

  Chapter 52

  Meg twisted her napkin before tossing it aside. Lifting her champagne glass, she swallowed the contents in one. For a celebration the meal was decidedly subdued and tense. Yeah, tense was the word. Michael seemed unwilling to talk about where he had been and was vague a
bout his future plans. Sam had become a quiet observer, and she was wracked with guilt. Guilt and nerves. Sam hated Michael. Michael disliked Sam. And how did she feel about them. She glanced at Sam, and he smiled, making her heart thump. Shifting her focus back to the table, she toyed with a pizza crust left on her plate. Unless someone brought up the subject of the elephant in the room they would all be sitting in excruciating silence forever. Did she want sex with them both or not? If not, then she should be honest and say so. If she did, then it would only happen if she made the first move.

  How did you go about starting a sex discussion with two men? Jeez, boys, you sure do make a girl hot and bothered, do you want to fuck me? Nope, too crude and not at all subtle. If you’re not busy maybe we could have sex together … no pressure. Nope, too wimpy. She needed to let them know she wanted it. Sam said she could have it. He’d also said Michael had gotten to her on a deeper level than sex. If they did this could she let him walk away again? Would he even want to stay if Sam was part of the equation? Either she asked him to leave or she made the first move. They couldn’t sit in the kitchen all night.

  She cleared her throat and got to her feet. With a deep breath for courage she lifted her head and shifted her focus from Sam to Michael and back again. She could do this. Quiet, sexually repressed Meg could step up and take control. Her mother wasn’t her moral compass, and the family hornyitus was not something to fear. If she had it, then it was part of who she was. She should fully embrace her inner demon, claim her rightful place at the table of lust, and thank God for the bounty he had heaped upon her. She swallowed and tried a smile. He could have made her a suburban housewife with a husband who only liked the missionary position, and then only once a week on a Saturday night, lights off, no foreplay and no discussion. Instead, she had a man who knew her desires before she did and was happy to meet them all. Apparently even letting her have sex with Michael if that was she wanted. She stared at Michael and the decision was made.