Page 8 of Close Quarter
"It shows." Silas straightened his collar and smoothed down the front of his jacket. "Better."
Except for his hard-on. If only Silas would run his hand over that. Rhys did have to admit that his neck felt less constricted.
Why was Silas doing this? What did he want?
"Who are you?"
A flash of teeth. Amusement in that deep voice. "Have you forgotten my name already?"
Rhys swallowed. He eyed the glass on the bar counter but knew not to pick it up yet. Silas had been right. He did need a break from the scotch.
The man was far more potent than alcohol.
Silas pressed close and spoke into Rhys's ear. "My name?"
Rhys shuddered at the command. "Silas." He doubted he'd ever forget. He certainly would remember the hand at his hip, Silas's fingers stroking his side beneath his suit coat, the quick nip of teeth against his ear.
And not a person in the place was watching them.
Rhys dropped his voice. "You're the most attractive man I've ever met. Stunning. I mean, every head in this place should get whiplash when you walk by."
Something shifted in Silas's expression.
There was still a sense of amusement, but his smile slipped away. "I should be flattered."
"The thing is," Rhys said, "no one notices.
Hell, you take off my tie, then feel me up, and not one person even looks this way."
"It is rather odd, isn't it?"
The whole thing was damn strange. The tone of Silas's response sent a trickle of fear down Rhys's spine. "You know it's happening."
Silas said nothing, just picked up his scotch and sipped.
Well, theories begged to be tested. Rhys snatched the scotch out of Silas's hand and set it down on the bar counter. Then he took Silas's face in his hands and kissed him.
Rhys doubted he would ever get enough of this man's mouth on his, or their tongues twining about each other.
Not a tropical night this time, but some pine forest in the height of summer, a hint of warm rock and damp earth. Rhys felt Silas's finger brush his throat; then the other man pulled away.
"You are exceedingly brash."
"You seem to enjoy it," Rhys said. "And I was right. Not a person in this room saw that."
Down the bar, Vasil chatted with other patrons. A few people glanced their way, but it was as if he and Silas didn't exist, rather than people pointedly not watching two men make out.
"So who are you?"
Silas's amused smile returned. "You keep asking the wrong questions."
Damn it. Rhys picked up his scotch. "Then what the hell are the right questions?"
The other man chuckled. "I do like you, Rhys.
That's a very dangerous thing for the both of us."
Silas retrieved his own drink. "Would you care to join me for dinner?"
