He put his hand up to indicate there was no use arguing. “It needs to be something fun, something you wouldn’t normally do. Hell, bonus points for something illegal at this stage.”
After another round of hugs and me apologising again for sucking at returning calls, Tim headed home, and I sank into bed. Would killing a co-worker count as both fun and illegal?
Chapter Three
For the next week, work was still a nightmare. A case that should have been finished with months ago came back to bite us when a similar incident in Victoria surfaced. My car broke down and was at the mechanic’s for a few days. I was working every day with Detective Grayson, AKA Detective Dickhead, and something came up in the missing Short children case. It wasn’t anything ground-breaking, only more social media comments on accounts we hadn’t come across up until now. One of Aimee’s cousins. But we still hadn’t gotten a time arranged with the girl’s parents to talk to her again.
The hours spent in front of the computer were catching up with me. I had missed lunch with Mum and Tim two weeks in a row, and Tim was ominously silent. I was getting obsessed, the easiest way to lose perspective. I needed to take a break.
And I would. Next week.
Finally, on the following Wednesday, I decided my day off really was going to be a day off, and I was going to go have fun. In reality, I had done two loads of laundry, a brief clean and vacuum, and had finally taken that bag of clothes that had been in the back of the car since Jesus was a boy to the charity bin. The only fun I had during the day was going for a run.
Okay, I was starting to see Tim’s point.
Ant and I really needed to find time other than midnight in his club to catch up, so I texted him mid-afternoon to see if we could grab a quick bite to eat before the club opened. Since he moved back to Sydney, we had stayed in touch over the years but hadn’t carved out much time to actually see each other in person, and I knew he was enjoying the connection with someone who understood him and his history as much as I was. I convinced him to head to Riley’s for a bite to eat. Riley’s wasn’t exactly a gay bar, but definitely gay friendly, and my friends and I started going there when we were back at university. It was easy to get to and had cheap drinks, which was all that really mattered as a broke student. It was still a popular central spot to meet up with my old friends.
After monopolizing Antony’s time for a lot longer than either of us intended, he had to attend to a few things down in The Subway Station, the private kink club that operated below Platform. So we could chat on the way, I headed there with him. And, okay, maybe I was a little curious. Although I had never been down there, Ant had told me about the place. He was proud, and part of me was interested, even if another part was more than a little nervous.
After introducing me to security and the bartenders, Ant headed to his office for a moment, and I headed to the bathrooms.
Antony handed me a glass of scotch as I walked back through the front bar area. “You know I only came to see the place. I wasn’t really going to stay”.
“I know. That’s why I poured it rather than asking first.”
I sighed and accepted the drink. My gaze drifted around the club to land on Sean. Sean and I had hooked up a couple of times, and I was surprised to see him here, although I shouldn’t have been. He was probably more suited to the Subway Station than Riley’s Bar, where I usually saw him. He was dancing with a man whose back was to me, so all I could see was a stunning arse in dark denim and a head of blonde hair. The man turned around, and his eyes lift to meet mine.
He was fucking beautiful. The music drifted away into the background, and I could only hear my pulse quickening, thumping in my ears. My palms began to sweat, so I wiped my hands on my jeans and shoved them in my pockets as they itched to move.
I didn’t even bother trying to hide my brief look down and back up his body to those perfect eyes, eyes I couldn’t look straight into because his perusal was a little slower. He looked pretty happy with what he saw.
The man was close to flawless. Disturbingly so. He was probably a little above average height, so maybe about three inches or so shorter than me. Slim but not skinny, his dark shirt clung to his chest, highlighting lightly defined pecs. His jeans were fitted yet not too tight, showcasing a perfect round arse. His dark blond hair was perfectly neat, despite Sean running his hands through it, and he had the most stunning blue eyes I had ever seen. Even from this distance, they were striking. Was it a trick of the lighting in the club making them almost glow?
Before I even make a conscious decision, I took a step forward to get a better look at those eyes.
I enjoyed a beautiful man as much as anyone, but I had never had such an immediate response to anyone in my life. But he was dancing with Sean, I reminded myself. Well, dancing, fucking with clothes on; the distinction seemed minimal with the way they were moving.
Sean had always been very confident, very snarky, and a hell of a lot of fun. I had never felt a spark of anything more than physical with him, but he was one of the few guys I hooked up with more than once, and it was always a good time. And yet I was jealous of him, not his dance partner.
A couple of times, I thought the man was watching me when his gaze lifted from Sean, but each time, his gaze continued to roam back to his partner. Eventually, Sean grabbed his hand and slid it back around to his arse, whispering into the man’s ear. After a brief pause, there was a nod, and they wandered off into the crowd. I shook my head, said my goodbyes to Ant, and was turning towards the stairs when I felt a presence next to me.
Sean.
Before I had a chance to talk, Sean spoke. “I have a proposition for you,” he crooned, running his hand up my arm. I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. “I’m celebrating a big win at work today, and, well, you and Nicky seem like the perfect way to celebrate to me.”
“It’s Nicholas,” Mr. Perfect corrected him politely. In an English accent, for fuck’s sake.
I tilted my head, waiting for Sean to continue, but he appeared to be waiting for an answer.
“I’m sorry, what?” I stammered.
Nicholas chuckled and explained in a low voice. “You seemed to enjoy watching earlier. Sean is asking if you would like to do a little more than watch.” Holy fuck, that voice. It was smooth and sweet, like liquid caramel, and that accent. Holy Shit. I wasn't sure what to do with that voice. I think I blinked.
“Anyway, are you in?” Sean asked. “You two are a fuck-load of fun, pun intended, and I kicked arse at work today, so what I would like is for you two to show said arse twice as much fun.”
I was speechless. I had never been involved in a threesome. I mean, I knew a lot of guys did, and I had heard plenty of stories from guys at the pub, but I always figured most of them were exaggerating. Obviously, I was going to say no. I didn’t do things like that.
But I could hear Tim’s voice: “You need to do something… fun.”
“I’m in,” Nicholas said in that liquid voice. “How about you? Would you like to come?” Apparently, I nodded at the innuendo without any conscious decision on my part because Nicholas smiled, and Sean squealed and grabbed my hand pulling me towards the door. The trip to Sean’s place was blissfully short, not leaving time for this to get awkward or for me to chicken out.