Animated, funny, very attractive. What was missing? Sad to say, danger. Sex. Bruce had all the appeal of a Jehovah’s Witness standing on his doorstep. In other words, perfect.
They both declined dessert, blaming their boyish figures. Actually, Lindsey hated sweets and burned off calories like a wild animal. But still, the excuse fit his image.
Lindsey waggled a hand at their waiter. “Carlo, will you just put it on my tab, please, with 25 percent for you?”
“Thank you so much, Mr. Vanessen.”
“Excellent service, as always.”
Bruce put a hand on Lindsey’s arm. “Please, let me pay at least half of it.”
“Actually, the company pays all my club bills, so I won’t even see the impact on my food budget.” He laughed.
“Oh, I don’t want to put you in an awkward position. Can’t I pay for it?”
“Ta, darling. Ours is just a little private company with no shareholders to answer to, so no worries.”
“A little private billion-dollar company?”
“Four, actually. But we’re the smallest of the Vanessen enterprises.” He grinned. “Sorry, I’m just being a showoff because I’m proud of our company. Next time, I’ll take you to some steamy gay bar and pay the tab myself. Then you can thank me. For everything.”
The dimples flashed. “I like the sound of that. I’m so pleased there will be a next time.” He smiled again and fluttered his lashes a little. “But I hope this time doesn’t have to end.”
Oh really? Lindsey stared at the handsome and slightly boring man. No boiling blood or throbbing cock. Good. “Would you like to come to my place for, uh, drinks?”
Bruce smiled. “Drinks sound wonderful.”
Lindsey nodded. “I’m driving a Tesla sedan. I parked it myself.”
“I used the valet.”
Lindsey motioned to the maître d’. “Peter, will you arrange for Mr. Westerberg’s car right away, please?”
“Yes, sir. Immediately.”
Lindsey looked at Bruce. “I’ll pull in to the portico and you can follow me.”
Bruce covered Lindsey’s hand with his. “I think having drinks with you will be very exciting.”
As long as it wasn’t too exciting. “I must tell you, I won’t be able to ask you to stay. I have an early morning. Does that suit?”
“Perfectly. I’m still at my parents’ home for another week, and I’m not sure they’re ready for me to stay out all night, what with the kidnappings and everything.” He glanced at his watch. “But it’s still early, so we have lots of time.”
Lindsey didn’t need lots of time. He stood and Bruce followed.
They both collected coats from the checkroom. Early spring in Connecticut was wildly unpredictable in the weather department, and the night was downright chilly. They walked out the front entrance of the stately club. Old Connecticut society had started this club over a hundred years before and maintained its genteel exclusivity to the present.
Bruce wrapped his coat tighter and shivered. Hmm. Invitation? Lindsey, who pushed six foot two, circled Bruce’s shoulders with his arm. He was small for a werewolf but tall by human standards, so it made for a good snuggle position. Bruce took full advantage and rested his head on Lindsey’s shoulder. A couple of passing businessmen glanced up but, while the club was traditional, Connecticut politics and standards tended toward the liberal. Plus, Lindsey didn’t apologize for much.
A cold breeze blew. What? Lindsey raised his head and sniffed.
Bruce looked up. “Something the matter?”
“No, not at all.” He ran his hand rapidly up and down Bruce’s arm to try and warm him, but he looked over Bruce’s head. Where was that delicious smell coming from?
While a lot of his werewolf senses were muted, his ability to smell wasn’t too bad. Still, the scent usually had to be powerfully sensory. This smell was like—what? Sex. Musky, sweet, and delicious. He controlled the growl rumbling in his chest—barely. “Your car will be here any second. Let me run and grab the Tesla so I can pull around front.”
“Who-who will keep me warm?”
Lindsey glanced around. No one else was on the front porch for the moment, since the valet had run for Bruce’s car. He leaned over and planted a hot kiss on Bruce. His cock got frisky, but not from Bruce’s mouth. That awe-inspiring smell still seeped into Lindsey’s nose and dove straight for his testicles.
At first Bruce startled, but in one second he moaned and started climbing Lindsey like he would a tree. Maybe a bit more enthusiasm than was called for. Lindsey pulled back, and Bruce’s eyes opened slowly. Lindsey winked. “That should keep you warm for a few minutes.”
Bruce sighed. “Oh my. Sorry. I got a little carried away.”
“Darling, you can carry me away anytime.” He motioned toward the parking lot. “I’ll drive around.”
Lindsey bounded off the grand porch and down the steps to the gravel drive. He glanced around. Didn’t want to be obvious, but he had to know the source of that smell.
He followed his nose past the first row of cars, the second. Wait. There. In the third row of parked cars, three men stood talking under the streetlamp. Two were “suits” of the first order. Gray single-breasted, striped ties, short-cropped hair. But they were background noise. Holy blessed Hades. The other man reeked of danger of the very best kind. Tall—probably taller than Lindsey, with shoulders that strained the black leather jacket he wore. Tight, denim-encased, hard leg muscles. What would those feel like wrapped around his butt? The human’s hair looked like six different colors, all curls, and the mane had been restrained at his neck with some kind of band, but riots of tendrils escaped.
Lindsey’s hands were shaking and his cock danced a tango. A rumbling growl filled his chest. Dear God, he needed to get away. This was the very type of man he should avoid at all costs.
He walked toward the Tesla, but his feet dragged. They so wanted to run across the parking lot and let his body dive on that sex-drenched human. Fuck him into the gravel and then what—eat him? In Lindsey’s case, he feared that might mean more than a blow job.
He opened the door of the sedan. Prickles tingled up his neck. Slowly he turned and looked back. The man in the black leather jacket stared straight at him. That was one unreadable expression. Lindsey couldn’t look away. What color are those eyes?
One side of the man’s mouth cocked in the barest hint of a smile. Oh God, the smell. Like cinnamon and lust. Lindsey’s nostrils flared and quivered.
The human on the man’s left leaned into him, and Mr. Delicious’s eyes flicked to the guy, back to Lindsey for a second, then he shifted his attention and said something to his companion. Lindsey let out his breath.
Who was this man? He shouldn’t find out. He wouldn’t. With a slam, he closed the car door and started it quietly.
He drove the Tesla through the portico, and Bruce’s black Mercedes pulled up behind him.
On the short drive home, his penis bounced. Confused appendage. Yes, it was happy to be about to have sex with anyone. Hell, it had been weeks. At twenty-four, Lindsey wasn’t about to become a monk. But he kept smelling that scent from the black-leather guy. It seemed to have stuck on the inside of his nostrils, and every nerve ending tingled.