Page 27 of Reinventing Cato
Cato smiled, walked up to the desk and put his credit card on the counter. “Hi, I booked a few minutes ago.”
“Oh yes, Mr…er…Father Smith.” The woman blushed. “Just one night?”
“Yes, please.” Did anyone ever stay more than one night in a service station motel? Cato thought about asking and changed his mind.
She took his card and handed him a registration form.
Cato turned to Vigge. “What’s the car reg, darling?”
A muscle twitched in Vigge’s cheek before he stomped back to the door and read it out. Cato wrote it on the form and the desk clerk gave him back his card along with a key.
“First floor. End of the corridor. Enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you. God bless you.”
Cato heard Vigge’s quiet snort and swallowed his smile. But his heart thumped harder as they made their way to the room.
“You are such a little shit…darling,” Vigge hissed once they were away from the desk. “You could have worn your coat.”
“The cassock goes down to the floor. She might have thought I was wearing a dress.” He mock-shuddered and Vigge gave a heavy sigh.
“And you couldn’t come up with a more convincing name thanSmith?”
“No.”Because itismy name. And don’t you think she’d have commented if it hadn’t matched the credit card, Mr Detective?
Cato opened the door and Vigge followed him in, closing the door behind him.
“Wow, this is an enormous single bed.” Cato put down his coat and bag. “I won’t need to lie on top of you after all.”
“If this bed’s lumpy, I want you underneath me. If the bed’s not lumpy, you’ll still be underneath me.” Vigge dropped his bag, peeled off his coat and gave Cato a look that immediately made him weak at the knees.
If there’d been any doubt, it just evaporated. A strong powerful guy. Exactly Cato’s type.
“I need a shower,” Cato blurted. “Not a delaying tactic, honest. I woke at five to nine and the cab was due at nine. I barely had time to get dressed. Didn’t even put my lenses in. Hence the priest outfit.”
“Why don’t I go downstairs and order some food while you use the bathroom? Then I’ll have a shower while you go and collect what I’ve ordered?”
“Okay.”
Vigge picked up a menu from the table. “What would you like?” He handed it to Cato.
Cato scanned it. “Fish goujons and chips, please, and sticky toffee pudding, but nothing on it. No custard. No cream. No ice cream. I’m no trouble at all.”
“But sticky toffee?”
“Plenty of that.”
“To drink?”
“A Missionary’s Downfall. If they can’t make that, then a Corpse Reviver or a Screaming Orgasm. And I insist you ask for each of them. I’ll be checking. If they’re unable to do any of those, a bottle of Cristal.”
Vigge sighed. “No trouble? Your choice is beer, barely palatable red wine, insufficiently chilled white wine, or extortionately priced imported water.”
“Beer.”
After he’d left the room, Cato stripped, grabbed his toilet bag and went into the bathroom. There were no thoughts ofwhat the hell am I doing?He knew exactly what he was doing. He stared at his face as he shaved and found himself smiling. Lust had churned in his gut, risen up his throat to choke him and he was expected to eat? But he was glad of the opportunity to use the bathroom on his own, and maybe that’s why Vigge had suggested what he had.
It wasn’t the only reason Cato was glad for this moment of peace. His normal MO would have been to throw himself at Vigge almost before the door had closed. Hands on cocks before they reached the bed. Fast and furious sex.I want this to be different.
