Page 5 of Duped

“Hey. How did you know where I live?”

Since he had dropped Tarek off at his car at the casino last night, that was a fair question. “I know everyone in this town.”

Two men rushed into the room like over enthusiastic, giant puppies and nearly plowed Salem over. One was blond, and the other was the same dark-haired god from the stairs. They were equally flawless—like gym bros, but nice. Honestly, they both looked too dumb to be mean.

“I heard there was breakfast.”

Salem chuckled and shook his head.

“Almost everyone in this town,” Portland said absently as he eyed the pair. His gaze returned to Tarek. Tarek looked slightly crestfallen, as if he was used to fading into the background once the beauty brigade arrived. None of them held a candle to Tarek. Each of them had something Portland couldn’t stomach. He had no desire to date someone who looked like a child, and he definitely didn’t want to spend his time with someone with nothing but air in their head. Not only was Tarek gorgeous, but he was smart and funny. Witty. Everyone else disappeared.

“I’ve come to steal you away for the day.”

The light returned to Tarek’s eyes. “How did you know I’m off today? Is this another knowing everyone thing?”

“You’re off today? Perfect.”

Tarek laughed. It was a real one. He didn’t try to look pretty. It was obvious he didn’t put on an act for anyone. Tarek was his genuine self and Portland was mystified. He stood and circled the couch. “Come on.” Tarek took his hand and headed for the stairs.

Portland allowed himself to get dragged along. Truthfully, it was more like he was trapped in a spell and his body obeyed. He watched the way Tarek’s body moved as he climbed the steps ahead of him. Portland wanted him; almost painfully so. As they reached the second floor, Tarek kept going to the third. He spoke over his shoulder as he went. “I’m the only one whose bedroom is on the third floor. No one else likes climbing this many stairs, but I love the view.” As they cleared the last step, Portland nearly gasped. The top floor was nothing but windows, and the bedroom faced the ocean.

“This house is beautiful. It’s no wonder JD’s stepsons refused to give it up to Salem.” Portland wanted to bite his tongue off as soon as the words left his mouth. Salem was Tarek’s best friend. He likely didn’t care for Portland insinuating Salem shouldn’t have inherited the place.

Tarek shocked him by laughing. His eyes swam with good humor. “What? Those two downstairs? They don’t leave here because they’re glued to Salem’s hips like they were born conjoined triplets. Those three are inseparable. It’s like they were born to find each other.”

That confused Portland more than a little. “I’d always heard the stepsons were straight.” Much to the chagrin of the entire gay community. They loved adding names to the Atlantic City’s Most Wanted list of bachelors.

Tarek motioned toward his unmade bed. “Sit. They are. Friends can be soulmates too.”

Portland would have to mull that one over. He was a good ninety-five percent certain friendship wasn’t what he had seen downstairs. Maybe his ability to read people was fading.

Tarek peeled off his shirt. “Where are we going? I don’t know how to dress.”

The hunger that slammed into Portland bordered on unnatural. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” There was a hint of a growl in Portland’s voice. It was out of his control.

Tarek eyed the shirt he held. “I didn’t think you’d want to be seen with me in an old band t-shirt.”

Goddamn. His skin was flawless. “I just really need you to put your shirt back on.” Portland wasn’t doing a good job of hiding the monster inside him. “I’m sitting on your bed. You’re too beautiful and it’s been a really long time since anyone touched me.” And he was within striking distance. All Portland had to do was pull him into bed.

Tarek didn’t put his shirt back on. He stared at Portland like a deer in the headlights. His tongue shot out, wetting his bottom lip. “You haven’t even kissed me yet. For all you know, I might not be that desirable.”

If this was a game, Tarek was winning. All Portland heard was his pulse thumping in his ears. His skin itched. Tarek was in danger.

Showing an obvious lack of good sense, Tarek tossed his shirt aside and crowded Portland’s space. He set his hands on Portland’s shoulders and stared down at him, looking every bit as starved as Portland felt.

Portland’s hands ran up the backs of Tarek’s thighs. He didn’t even realize it until he cupped Tarek’s ass. It was too late for him. Portland pulled Tarek closer until Tarek straddled his lap. His breathing turned ragged. The suspense snapped Portland’s razor-thin human veneer. He grabbed the back of Tarek’s head and hauled him down so he could claim his mouth. Tarek didn’t kiss the way Portland was accustomed. It wasn’t rough and hungry. His kiss was soft and seeking. It pissed Portland off because he didn’t want to be soft.

Portland flipped, pinning Tarek beneath him. He took the kiss he wanted. Tarek’s knees lifted and gently brushed his sides. He held Portland’s face and Portland found himself being the one who turned gentle. Tarek wasn’t the type of guy a person manhandled. He was precious. Tarek looked soft—like he might bruise easily. The idea of anyone marking Tarek’s skin outraged Portland. He deserved someone who took their time and blew his mind. Portland wanted to watch him fly apart. He needed that image in his head to be real.

Portland pulled away and stared down at Tarek. Possessiveness overcame him. He felt murderous at the idea of anyone coming between them. “What are you doing to me?”

Tarek chuckled. “I think it’s a bit obvious.”

“No. What are you doing to my head and chest?”

Tarek’s smile fell. His gaze moved over Portland’s face. He looked nervous. “Whatever it is, you don’t look like you like it.”

“People don’t matter to me.”

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