Devil's Kiss (Sunset Cove #2) (14 page)

Derek dumped the duffel on the floor and nodded. “Got it.”

“Second, no strange men in my house. You want to hook up or fuck someone, you do it at their place, in a club, or hell, at the library.”

“Are you serious?”

Jordan nodded. “As a heart attack.”

“You’re giving me permission to fuck someone in the stacks at school? Good to know, professor. Can you write me a note just in case I get caught with my pants around my ankles?”

Jordan walked backward into his living room and shrugged. “Better at school than a stranger in my place. Like you said, I’m rich—”

“And modest,” Derek added, finally moving forward, following Jordan into the living space.
 

When they got to the couch, Derek could see around the corner, where a narrow room housed an elaborate dining table set for eight. It was stunning in its sleek simplicity of a black tabletop and comfortable-looking white lounge chairs surrounding it.
 

“No. I never claimed to be modest,” Jordan said as he flounced down into the plush couch, kicked his shoes off, and then curled his legs up under him. “I’m rich. My parents are rich, and I don’t want some random hookup of yours traipsing through my belongings as he sneaks out in the middle of the night. So sue me.”

Derek took a seat at the opposite end of the couch and cocked his head to the side. “Assuming it would always be a random.”

“Oh, please. Are you trying to tell me you have a boyfriend tucked up your sleeve? I’ve seen you shaking your ass half-naked at Boyz, Derek Pearson. And there hasn’t been anybody
regular
dancing with you. So don’t pretend.”

Caught totally off guard by the fact Jordan had been paying such close attention, Derek felt his face heat, and Jordan started laughing hysterically at him.
 

“I’m sorry, was the fact you dance at a gay club supposed to be a secret? I know you always make a wild dash for cover when I show up, but I’ve seen you there. White short shorts, tattoos all over. You’re pretty hard to miss.”

“Um…” He paused, and then Jordan flashed a wide
gotcha
grin at him and Derek glowered. “You’re being an ass on purpose, aren’t you?”

Jordan gave a playful wink and leaned forward to open the wine. “Payback’s a bitch, right? I can be too, but I try to keep that for the people who really deserve it.” He handed a glass of Merlot to Derek and then leaned back into his couch again. “I was also trying to get your mind off how bomb-ass my place is. Did it work?”

Derek laughed at Jordan’s over-the-top attitude, but nodded. “Yeah, it did.”

“See, there’s a method to my madness. Not
just
madness.”

Derek took a sip of his wine, feeling like a bit of a buffoon with his big hands and the tiny glass. “I don’t think you’re mad at all,” he said, surprising himself with his sincerity. “I actually think you’re kind of amazing.”

Jordan’s playful attitude sobered in an instant, and he gave Derek a serious look. The expression made Derek’s heart skip, and he wondered if Jordan felt the pull the same way he did. His question was soon answered when Jordan sat forward and placed his glass on the coffee table. He then turned to face Derek and said with the utmost sincerity, “I have to be clear about one thing here, Derek. I won’t get involved with you. Not in any way beyond friends.”

Feeling like a fucking idiot for his moment of honesty, Derek shot to his feet and cursed. What was he thinking saying that out loud?
Way to make a guy feel uncomfortable
, he thought, as he headed back to his bag where it lay by the elevator. He pushed the down button, hoping it would open up and swallow him whole, then Jordan’s fingers touched his arm and he stepped up beside him.

“Hey, don’t go. That’s not what I meant.”

Derek looked down at Jordan, and with his shoes off and a wine glass in his hand, he looked…well… Oh, fuck it. The guy looked gorgeous.

“I just wanted to be clear that this is merely a platonic arrangement. That I don’t expect you to pay in”—Jordan frowned and then shrugged—“other ways.”

“You mean like sex? Are you trying to tell me I don’t have to let you fuck me to stay?”

“Derek,” Jordan grumbled, and whacked his arm.
 

“Well, are you?”

Jordan gave him a pointed look. “Yes. I guess if you want to be crude about it. I’m just saying that this is merely a landlord and tenant situation, and at college, a student and professor one.”

Derek nodded and faced him. “Got it. And in there anywhere, are we friends?”

Jordan gave a long-suffering sigh and drained his wine glass. “Well, I guess. I
will
have to see you every day. Now can you please stop bolting for the door every time things don’t go your way?”

“Sure,” Derek agreed, and dropped his bag to head back through the living room and toward a long, narrow hallway Jordan was walking down.
 

“So just to clarify, that means we will be sleeping in separate bedrooms…right?”
 

Jordan smirked as he looked over his shoulder. “Smartass.”
 

“Hey, I’m just trying to be crystal clear and not misunderstand anything,
landlord
.”

“I sleep in there.” Jordan pointed to an enormous room with floor-to-ceiling doors that were opened to a closet that someone could, in all likelihood, go missing in.
 

Derek whistled. “Impressive, emperor, and where do the commoners sleep?”

Jordan laughed, and the sound was free and easy, the best fucking noise Derek had heard all day.

“You, lowly peon, may choose from the six spare rooms available.”

“
Six?
”

“Yes, six.”

“Okay, how about you just point me in the direction of one and I’ll take it.”

Jordan’s grin was cheeky as he walked ahead of Derek with what he could’ve sworn was added swing to his hips. “I do like a man who doesn’t mind being told what to do.”

And yeah,
fuck him
, this friendship business was going to be a goddamn challenge. Likely one of the hardest he’d ever face, if his eager cock had any say in the matter.

CHAPTER TEN

One Year Later

FINALS. IT WAS always the most stressful time of the semester, and as Derek stared at the economics textbook in front of him, he swore his eyes were starting to cross. It was well after two in the morning and he had to be up in,
shit
, four hours.
 

Jesus
, if he didn’t fall asleep during the actual exam it would be a miracle.
 

He tossed his pen on the desk he was seated at, then leaned back in the leather chair, stretching his arms above his head as a yawn escaped him. It was Thursday night, and tomorrow’s exam was the last one he had—and then he would be done with his sophomore year.

God, where did the time go?
He spun around in the chair and looked toward the open door leading from his bedroom to the long balcony that flanked this side of the building. Most days he still couldn’t believe he lived there, in the penthouse of the Palisades, but he did.

Jordan had invited him to stay that first night, and since then the two of them had settled into a comfortable routine of landlord and tenant. Just as Jordan had suggested they should. On one hand it was totally strange, yet on the other it had turned out close to fucking perfect.

Tonight, the penthouse was quiet. Jordan had told him he was going out to celebrate his final day of teaching, and instructed Derek with a sassy wink not to wait up.
 

As if he ever would.
 

Considering what close quarters they kept, they lived very separate lives. And just as they’d agreed from day one, there were no strange men in the house, and the two of them had developed quite the unexpected friendship.

Jordan Devaney out of school was exactly as he had been that first semester
in
school—times about ten. He was opinionated, sarcastic, and rather full of himself. But Derek had to admit, the guy could back it up.
 

Jordan was smart, rich, and smokin’ hot—not that Derek would ever mention that these days.
Fuck no
. There was no way he was crossing that line they’d both drawn in the sand that night, and neither had ever stepped over.

However, Jordan wasn’t only all about himself. The other thing Derek had learned in the past year was just how generous he was. Not only had he taken him in that day, the guy had refused to take his money for anything other than rent on his small section of the house. Derek couldn’t remember how many times they’d argued over the grocery bill. But in the end, even if he got pissed and called Jordan a bossy asshole and left the money on the counter, Derek would find it later that night on the bedside table in his bedroom.
Stubborn ass.

Deciding he was done for the night, he got to his feet and stretched his neck from side to side, ready to go to bed, but the sound of the elevator dinging echoed throughout the condo. He yawned again and glanced at the digital readout on his phone.

It read 2:45 a.m.
Late night, huh, professor?
 

Ready to give Jordan shit for being an old guy able to stay out past midnight, Derek was halfway down the hall when he heard someone giggle and then someone else say, “Shh…” 

As more musical laughter floated through the air, Derek froze, waiting to see if he’d imagined it, until “God, J. That last round of Mind Erasers totally did you in. You’re trashed,” confirmed that he hadn’t. 

The footsteps shuffling through the condo’s main living room indicated there were at least two people, and when he heard an “ompfh” followed by more laughing, Derek contemplated turning and heading back to his room.

Jordan had never brought anyone home with him before, and while Derek was more than aware the guy stayed out every now and then, it was different to know he might have to lie in his bedroom and listen to some other guy get in bed with the man he had secretly been fantasizing about.
 

Just great.
 

Dressed only in a pair of lightweight sweats, Derek was about to head back to his room when a light was switched on and Jordan’s voice sounded throughout the penthouse.

“August!” Jordan laughed loudly, then whispered, “Turn it off. You’ll wake—”

“Me,” Derek said, figuring that maybe if he announced his presence to the men in the living room, then they might not do whatever they were back here to do.
 

Jordan was sitting on the couch with a guy dressed in jeans, a loose mauve linen shirt, and about four or five beaded necklaces standing between his legs. With his shoulder-length brown hair and dark scruff, the guy bore a striking resemblance to Johnny Depp, and Derek wondered if that’s what he was aiming for. If so, he’d nailed it.

The sound of Derek’s voice had the both of them whipping their heads around in the direction of where he stood. If the situation had been anything other than what it was, Derek might have noticed how lecherous the smile was that stretched across the face of the stranger who was now staring at him. As it was, Derek was far too irritated at the thought of these two going back to Jordan’s room to fuck to notice that—much.

“Hmm. Well, hello. Who do we have here, J?” the man asked, giving Derek his full attention as Jordan flopped back into the couch.
 

The man stepped over the leg Jordan had flung out in front of himself and took the couple of steps he needed to stop directly in front of Derek. He was tall enough, probably around six foot, but like most, that still put him several inches shorter than Derek.
 

“That’s Derek,” Jordan slurred, then added, “He-Man.”

Derek’s eyes cut to Jordan.
He-Man? Okay…that one’s new,
he thought, keeping a discreet eye on his “landlord” as a sensual chuckle came from the unidentified man, whose eyes were surveying every inch of Derek’s naked torso.

“I can certainly see why you call him that.”

“Yes…” Jordan agreed, even though his eyes were shut. “Muscles and, ahh, more muscles. Mhmm.” That velvety purr he gave at the end traveled straight down Derek’s spine to his balls, and was as good as a caress.
 

Jesus, how much did he drink tonight?
Jordan had never come home like this.
 

“Got it,” Johnny wannabe said. “But
who
is he, J? You haven’t mentioned a He-Man before now. Especially not a live-in one.”
 

Fed up with the douchebag know-it-all talking as though he wasn’t there, Derek crossed his arms and said, “I don’t know who you are, but how ’bout you stop talking as if I’m not standing in front of you and able to kick your ass.”

“Oh ho.” The guy laughed. “Down, boy. You can stop growling. I’m just trying to understand why a giant is sleeping in my best friend’s bed. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Uncaring of how little he was wearing, Derek stepped forward until he was toe to toe with the man and said, “I’m not sleeping
in
his bed. And who I am is none of your business unless he decides to tell you.”

“Boys, boys…” Jordan said as he scooted to the edge of the couch and then pushed up onto his feet. He didn’t sway much as he walked their way, but when he stopped beside the both of them and placed a hand on Derek’s bicep, it seemed to register with him that Derek was wearing hardly any clothes. Jordan tested the muscles under his palm and then aimed a megawatt smile up at Derek that made his dick instantly hard.

Motherfucker.

“Derek, this is August, he’s my…my…” Jordan pondered over his choice of words for a second but then became sidetracked when he squeezed Derek’s arm again. “Wow. Your arms are huge. I mean, I knew you were big, but damn. And so…so…” He flattened his palm and ran it over the tattoo on Derek’s right shoulder before he whispered, “I’ve always wanted to touch these…”

Before Derek could halt Jordan’s wandering hand, he’d trailed a finger over to his chest to trace the script written just below his collarbone.
 

“They’re so sexy,” Jordan murmured, more to himself than anyone else, as far as Derek could tell, and then Jordan looked over to his friend, who was watching the exchange with curious eyes. “Aren’t these sexy?”