Page 22 of Unexpected Company
“Your loss!” he says, literally bouncing towards the door of the lounge. Now that he has his mind set on this, his energy is buzzing out of him like sparks from a broken cable. “I’m going to soak my bones in human soup for a while. And a word of warning –”
He strips his hoodie off and drops it to the floor. I move without thinking, picking it up and neatly hang it over the back of the sofa. His lips tip up on one side before he removes his t-shirt and drops it on the floor, too.
I glare at him, my eyes darting from his, warm with challenge, and then back to the crumpled fabric on the floor. I hate mess; I hate things being out of place. My body is physically begging me to bend down and pick it up. But then his grin widens and his fingers wrap around the waistband of his joggers, and I know he’s enjoying messing with me.
And maybe – by the way my heart is picking up speed – I’m enjoying it too.
“As I was saying,” he shimmies his joggers lower, “a word of warning. I didn’t bring a swimsuit because I never intended tohave company.” With that, he strips his joggers off completely, leaving him in only a purple jockstrap, and expanses of smooth fair skin.
He kicks the fabric across the floor and saunters away.
I watch. My eyes fixed on his gorgeous form until he’s out of sight.
Letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, I bend down, pick up his discarded clothing and hang them over the sofa, my cock hard and throbbing in my boxers and my certainty that I’ll never get in a hot tub wavering.
Chapter nine
Roman
“Oh, this is heavenly,” I remark, resting my head back against the side of the hot tub and looking up at the sky. There’s a retractable awning over the recreation space, which I’ve opened now that the rain has stopped, giving me a view of the setting sun.
The sky is streaked in purples, pinks and yellows, with a few grey clouds still scattered around.
There’s a sound system out here, and by that I mean, another one of those ancient looking CD players attached to a large black speaker. I’ve popped in another Christmas CD, this time a mix of hits from throughout the years.
The jets are on, the one directly behind me working the muscles of my lower back while setting off a ripple of bubbles across the surface. Chlorine scented steam billows up into the early evening air.
It’s perfect out here. Except for one thing.
Garrett.
In the three days since I’ve known him, I’ve grown very attached to his company. Lying in front of the fire while he works and I read or play cards has become my favourite activity of the day. His presence is soothing. I’ve been pushing away the thought that I’ll be leaving in the next day or so, choosing instead to focus on how good I feel when he’s around. Even the silence between us is nice.
Liam would like Garrett. He loves those police, murdery, drama books. I bet he’s read all of Garrett's and is probably a big fan. There’s a little twinge of jealousy in my belly when I picture my best friend swooning over Garrett. It doesn’t matter, really. It’s not like I’ll see him again once I leave.
“Still want some company?” a voice asks from behind me, and I smile, not moving to face him.
“You sure you want to get into this petri-dish?” I joke.
“Hmm, the temptation was too much to ignore,” he says, rounding the side of the hot tub and coming into view. He’s wearing a pair of black boxer shorts and nothing else. My eyes trace a shameless line from his plump lips, down over his well-kept beard and along his chest, which is covered in dark, coarse hair. I mentally plead with my cock to behave, but it’s really hard when Garrett is so fucking sexy andright there.
“It’ll be worth it. The water is so warm and these jets are immensely pleasing,” I say, lifting my gaze.
Garrett eyes the water for a moment, then, seemingly happy with what he sees, flips one leg over the edge and sinks down into the tub. He lets out a groan – which I feel in my entire body – as he leans back, the water swooping around his upper chest.
“Good?” I ask, moving sideways to lessen the gap between us. He stretches his arms over the back of the tub, lolling his head back to look at the canopy above us. His fingers are mere centimetres from my neck.
“Very. I’m trying hard not to think of the bacteria.”
“Hmm, what can I do to take your mind off of it?”
His fingers make a swift slide across the back of my neck before he pulls his hand away, leaving a ghost of a shiver on my skin. The sexual tension in the air is thicker than the steam off the tub.
“Tell me more about you,” he says, angling his head to face me.
I slide lower in the water, letting it cover my head, then push back up and wipe my damp hair backwards and off my forehead.
“I’m an only child. Raised by my aunt. Lived in London my whole twenty-three years. Wanted to be a firefighter until I was fifteen. Then I wanted to be a doctor, but I’m squeamish about blood. Met my best friend, Liam, when I was thirteen. Always knew I was gay. I like hugs, soft fabrics and tea.”
