Page 16 of Enticement
After Evie pulled out of the drive and chugged off down the lane, Kit deadlocked the front door and wandered upstairs to his old room. Barely a scrape of familiarity remained; just a few patches of wallpaper and a threadbare rug, which he lay down upon and stared up at the hole in the roof. He hadn’t been entirely honest with Evie. It hadn’t been about the girl at all, only ever about Ross and himself. When their eyes had met in the darkness of the tent, and they’d made that silent pact to have her together, what he’d really been thinking was what it would be like to fuck Ross. No, they hadn’t touched one another except by accident on that occasion. Yes, they’d concentrated upon the woman between them, but ultimately, for him, it had been all about Ross.
Ross’s hard naked body beneath him, the tickle of his hairy legs, and the scent of him that lingered long after sex. Yes, he’d seen Ross naked before that point, but he’d never seen him naked and hard, or anticipated that he’d look so goddamn magnificent.
The erection that had faded when Evie marched off stiffened again, making his trousers uncomfortably tight. Kit unzipped and wrapped his hand around his cock.
Night after night, they’d slept beside one another in their purple dome, so many nights cocooned in Ross’s scent, and he’d never dared act upon his desire. The girl had made everything possible. She’d opened his eyes to the future. Images of later days scrolled across his field of vision. Erotic patterns formed in the clouds beyond the hole in the roof, and in his mind, Kit rewrote the camping trip, removing the girl from the scene. He’d forgotten her name eons back, and the remainder of her faded just as easily. Instead, he bucked into the fiery heat and tight clasping grip of Ross’s arse. He held him, stroked his palms across Ross’s chest, and pumped his cock until Ross rolled his eyes into his head and came in fountaining spurts over Kit’s fingers.
Kit’s hand stilled upon his own cock. He focused his efforts around the head, pressing gently into the sensitive spot below the eye. If only everything had gone as smoothly as his make-believe, instead of them pussyfooting around each other for eternity before making a move. That dance of denial had gone on, and on… Shit! It had to be three years.
Three years of rampant fucking denial, pretending they were just mates and nothing more. Of course, every now and then one of them would reach breaking point, and then they’d both go out and get plastered, and end up picking up some poor unsuspecting girl, and bringing her home together, and giving her the time of her life. Not one of those women ever twigged that the reason for all that lavish attention was so he and Ross could vicariously fuck one another, because neither of them had the guts to act upon their feelings. Too afraid of having read things wrong and destroying their friendship. Too scared of being punched in the face.
At least he hadn’t wasted time worrying over being gay. Kit knew sexuality wasn’t as simple or fixed as that. He knew he could get off looking at another guy’s cock, just as easily as he could staring at a pair of tits. Hell, once the whole deal with Ross had blown up, he’d even gone out experimenting. He’d sucked cock and wanked a few guys. Then, when out of the blue everything suddenly fell into place with Ross, it’d promptly fallen apart in a way that hadn’t just spoiled their friendship. It’d kept them apart for six bloody years, on opposite sides of the globe.
Japan had seemed so easy. No connections, nothing familiar. No strings and easy peasy money. Kit hadn’t set out to become a host. He hadn’t set out with any idea at all other than leaving Kirkley far behind. He’d walked into the airport that day with a suitcase and a credit card, and ended up in aryokanin Tokyo. There he’d met Tsuyoshi, who’d taken him to Cloud One the following evening and found him a job. He’d spent most of the first eighteen months of being a host steaming drunk. He’d blamed the job, but really that was an excuse and a nice easy way to blot out the memories of home. Then one evening he’d woken up and realized he’d be dead within another few years if he didn’t start looking after himself. He cut his alcohol consumption down to a reasonable level and learned how to pour drinks sober. The thing with being sober was that he could actually do his job better. The ladies liked him. He started getting laid again, not always in circumstances of his choosing, but he never let himself get too heavily swayed by the size of anyone’s purse. He built himself an easy life. No strings, no hassle… No love. Right until the grenade had landed—Flora’s death. A summons quickly followed, and he’d come back. But the darkness he’d flown remained. Boy did it remain, and sooner or later it’d all come tumbling out for Evie’s benefit, because people never could resist a scandal, or sticking their noses in.
Kit let go of his cock, his erection gone. He didn’t know what he was doing here, but now that he was here, he couldn’t leave. This time he’d have to weather the inevitable storm. He’d been in Kirkley twenty-four hours; likely, word of his presence had already been passed along.
Not that it mattered since he had only one single-minded goal—to get himself comfortably settled with the girl and guy of his dreams and spend a hell of a lot of time screwing them.
Chapter Four
“What time did he say he’d be back?” Ross asked, looking up from the remains of his recently demolished baguette. He dripped his finger in the remaining crumbs and held it aloft.
“He didn’t.” Evie leaned over his shoulder and sucked his finger into her mouth. She released it with a pop, cleaned, a moment later. “How come you took Whiskers with you this morning? I had no one to cuddle.”
“Whiskers? Evie, you can’t name her after a brand of cat food.” He glanced towards the kitten, still curled up inside the cat box. “I did mention that she still needed a few more shots and I had Iris to appease.”
“Fine, I’ll think of something else,” she huffed, leaving the table in order to scoop up the sleeping kitten.
Ross scraped his chair back, following her route with his gaze. “I’m sure Kit would have given you a hug if you’d asked.”
Evie eyed Ross curiously. He’d pulled his mouth into a somewhat sour expression with his tongue pressed to his teeth. “And why would I want to hug Kit?” The question restored his grin.
“I never said that you wanted to, only that he was available.”
So, he did realize his mate was more of an enticement to sin than was wise to leave alone with your girlfriend. Well, assuming said girlfriend had no willpower, which, of course, she did. Although, Kit hadn’t really tried anything on, he’d just told her a story—an undoubtedly fictitious story.
Aware that Ross’s attention hadn’t waned, Evie concentrated on the kitten, afraid that her expression would reveal her inner turmoil. The panther and the pussycat, she thought. They’d both arrived on the same night, and both tugged at her heartstrings, if in entirely different ways. At least the furry addition to the family didn’t leave her heart pounding with turmoil every time they touched. She’d been buzzing from the contact with Kit ever since she left Rose Cottage, her mind still burning with his tale. What had he been trying to achieve with that story? She certainly couldn’t look at Ross in quite the same way, even if she had decided it was pure invention. Maybe that had been Kit’s purpose.
“Something on your mind?” Ross asked. He wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled the back of her neck.
“Nah, no, it’s nothing.”
“Good.” He squeezed her shoulder. “As long as you’ve forgiven me for last night.”
Last night! She’d never ever forgive him for bringing Kit home, or for not mentioning that they were being spied upon during sex, although she might be appeased. She smiled winningly at Ross, hoping he’d get the message that after her fraught morning with the nefarious Mr. Scrumptious, she needed a good workout.
“Hey, I’m gonna get changed. Back in a few,” Ross said, squashing her fantasy of them getting frisky against the side of the fridge.
Evie listened to the thump of his shoes on the stairs. A few minutes later, he thundered down again, and went out of the front door. Surprised, she strolled into the living room intent upon the window. Halfway there, the phone rang, startling the kitten, who began to squirm. “Hello,” she muttered into the mouthpiece, still juggling the yowling fur ball.
“Ah, good afternoon, Ms. Latham.” Ross’s voice echoed down the line, presumably from his mobile, or else he’d nipped across the green to the call box. “This isRent a Fantasycalling to let you know that your order is just five minutes away.” The emphasis on certain words made him sound like a cross between a double-glazing salesman and a cheesy game-show host.
“My what?” She laughed into the receiver. Phone wedged between her shoulder and ear, and now trying to extract the kitten’s claws from her shoulder, Evie tweaked back the curtain, but couldn’t see any sign of Ross.
“Oh, I am sorry, madam.” Ross’s voice lost its screech of excitement and turned butler serious. “Do you mean to say you didn’t order your free trial from this month’s catalogue of mouth-watering man whores?”
“Man whats?”
