One Night Stand (2 page)

Oh
God
.

He briefly closed his eyes. His head still throbbed painfully, and not just from mortification. There’d been a hell of a lot of beer drunk at the bar while they waited for the food, and then wine at the table. He didn’t usually drink much—though how many times was he going to say that and then proceed to make a complete ass of himself?—but he’d been encouraged to join in the fun because of the season. All the rules seemed to be different at Christmas. He’d been with friends and colleagues, and they were all celebrating the end of a really good year for the company. And Marshall had been beside him, laughing quietly and occasionally turning those sparkling dark eyes on Teddy like he was really interested in what Teddy and
only
Teddy had to say.

Teddy groaned to himself. Now he was delusional. He tried to slide away from Marshall, to get out of bed without disturbing anything. But his lower body was tangled up in the sheet, and the other end of it was trapped under Marshall’s left thigh. Teddy glanced over again. Marshall’s
naked
left thigh: he’d thrust his leg out from under the covers. Fascinated, Teddy watched the pulse twitch under the flesh. The calf was tanned from all the time Marshall spent outdoors in shorts. He’d occasionally told Teddy how he liked to work on his old boat at weekends. The hairs were dark and curled around his knee, thinning out as they ran up toward his paler hip. Then bushy again, farther up, as they clustered around…

Teddy’s cock stirred against his own thigh, thickening. He swallowed heavily. “Oh God” had definitely been overused this morning, but it kept coming to mind. Things couldn’t get any worse, could they? Self-suffocation was looking more and more attractive by the second.

He let his head fall back on the pillow. He’d been drunk, that was it. That was the only excuse he could think of, pathetic though it was. He had no damned head for alcohol, but he just never learned to keep away.
Fucking Christmas parties
, he thought with some venom. What a cliché they were! He’d been looking forward to the event, because this year his team was in the running for the “Best Campaign” staff award. The company had hired a smart hotel in the center of town to host the evening, and there’d been speeches and jokes from each division. He’d even been personally mentioned a couple of times, for the success of some of his ideas on the larger client accounts. And in the end, they made a close second place! It had all been very exciting. He was also excited to find that Marshall was on the same dinner table—right next to him, actually—and Marshall had seemed really pleased to be there with him. He’d grasped Teddy’s arm for quite a long time when they were all congratulating each other, thanking Teddy for all his hard work. His eyes had been very bright and his expression rather intense. Yeah, that had been exciting too.

Pleased? Intense? Exciting
?

Teddy tried to push those thoughts away. The food had been great, the band lively, and the wine kept on flowing. Some idiots from Data Processing had been heavy-handed with the bottles, filling up glasses almost before the last mouthful went down. He hadn’t stood a chance. And the atmosphere had been so agreeable. Marshall had been great company, had been so approachable, had looked so… well, good.

Marshall grunted in his half-sleep, and his knee nudged against Teddy’s leg.

Teddy didn’t think it was possible to blush over the whole of one’s body, but there wasn’t any other explanation for how hot he felt now. Dammit, the man had looked gorgeous! He had broad shoulders, where Teddy’s were narrow. He was graceful, where Teddy was lanky, charming where Teddy was still nervous on these formal occasions. Marshall’s leg had brushed up against him time and again under the dinner table. On one occasion, he’d caught Marshall’s gaze, and they’d laughed about it. But Marshall hadn’t moved away. In fact, he’d looked flushed and unusually bemused. Teddy had obviously been embarrassing the man all damned evening, when all he’d wanted to do was please him.

And that’s where the real problem lay, wasn’t it?

Teddy groaned to himself again. Why the hell couldn’t it have been someone else?
Why couldn’t he have fallen for
any
one else? Since the day he joined the company, Teddy’s admiration of his boss had slowly but inexorably slid into total crush. He thought he’d kept it well hidden, all this time: the increased heart beat when Marshall entered the office, the delight when Marshall smiled at him or praised something he did. The sudden, embarrassing hard-on he got sometimes when Marshall was too close for comfort. Yes, he genuinely thought he’d kept it under control.

So what had gone wrong last night? Too tired from late nights at work? Too many beers? Being caught unprepared for seeing Marshall out of the office surroundings, so blatantly hot, so totally relaxed? Maybe he could brush this off as one of those casual sexual misdemeanors that happened at Christmas parties that neither of them really remembered and both wanted to forget. Maybe his juvenile crush was still a secret. Maybe…

His own words—harsh, urgent whispers—echoed in his memory. “You. Take it. Take me!
More
.”

Oh yeah, things could get
much
worse.

Marshall shifted again on the bed, blowing out gently through pursed lips, stirring the hair that had tangled up around his ear. Teddy stared at that hair, watching it brush gently with each breath against Marshall’s lightly stubbled jaw. He tried to tear his gaze away. Okay, so none of this was offering up a decent defense, was it? The only hope he had left was to blame the champagne.

A large bottle had arrived late in the evening on their table. Most of the other guys were away, either at the bar or dancing and mingling with other colleagues. Teddy and Marshall were the last two left sitting. The waiter explained it was a gift from Secret Santa; he’d grinned as he told them, enjoying the joke. Teddy didn’t know much about these things, but it looked like a very expensive brand. Privately, he thought they’d received it by mistake, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. He and Marshall poured themselves a glass and chinked their glasses together in a self-conscious toast.

“Happy Christmas, Teddy,” Marshall said. “Here’s to a great year and an even better time in the next.” His voice had sounded a bit hoarse, which Teddy blamed on the late hour and having to shout conversation over the sound of the band. He’d nodded in return, guiltily letting his fingers trail over Marshall’s as they held the glasses together. The champagne tasted extraordinarily delicious, a rare treat for him! He’d savored it on his tongue, letting its fruity aroma and sparkling beauty seduce his senses. But it was obviously far stronger than he realized. By the time he poured himself another glass, Marshall had been leaning against him, a strong arm across his shoulders, a warm hip brushing against his own.

And then what? His mind raced, his memories tumbling suddenly past as if they’d been freed from Pandora’s Box. The elevator; the corridor; the room; the bed.

Fierce sex: greedy and athletic
.

Teddy clamped his eyes shut again. God,
God
, no! He daren’t look at Marshall again. He was no child, thinking that if he couldn’t see, he couldn’t be seen. But he could hope for a Christmas miracle, couldn’t he?

The body beside him yawned, a definite waking-up noise.

Teddy’s heart sank. No, no miracle for him. He wasn’t a child, he knew that, and he was stupid to think he wouldn’t have to face the consequences of what he’d done. Miserably, he clenched his fists at his sides. To hell with it. So he’d been supremely, stunningly stupid, but he’d be honest with it. Marshall deserved that from him, at least. He opened his eyes and looked over at the other side of the bed.

Dark eyes looked back at him from under a clear brow and tousled brown hair. Marshall had rolled over on to his side and was staring at him. Teddy couldn’t help but ogle: the sheet covered very little of Marshall’s naked body. A bead of sweat glistened in the hollow of his throat and small, pebbled nipples jutted out from the dark hairs on his chest. His upper leg was bent over the lower one, but Teddy’s gaze could still follow the trail of hair down over his belly to the nest at his groin. And there rested Marshall’s cock, half-aroused and promisingly thick, lying comfortably on his thigh…

Teddy tried to look away. He really did, but it just didn’t work. He had no idea what to say. Any apology would sound insincere. Any excuse, trite. His gaze flickered over the flushed skin of his bedmate; he felt lustful excitement clench in his groin, and he was disgusted with himself, all over again.

“I’ll go,” he said. He wondered if he could somehow get out of bed without exposing his swollen dick, thickening with every glimpse of Marshall, with every sound he made even in sleep, with the very smell of his skin. Teddy didn’t know where the hell he’d left his pants or where his socks were. How could he worry about such mundane things? This was all a living nightmare.

“Teddy?”

He was struck dumb, just staring longingly at Marshall’s mouth. Couldn’t help himself, could he? He’d wanted to know what that mouth tasted like, since… well, since that night in the bar, when Marshall had chatted and smiled and occasionally licked his lips without realizing he was doing things to Teddy that had no place in the staff induction manual. Those lips were now damp with saliva, dark red and ragged in the corner where someone had bitten through the flesh. Oh
God
. That hadn’t been
him
, surely?

“Teddy.” The mouth twitched gently, as if Marshall had some idea of the agonizing thoughts tumbling around in Teddy’s mind and found them amusing. He certainly didn’t look in pain. “It’s your room, remember? If anyone should go, it should be me.” His voice was slower than usual, still sleepy. “But I wasn’t planning on it just yet. Did you want me to?”

Teddy just continued to stare. He realized how much he loved the familiar sound of Marshall’s voice. Very soft but very clear. Rich in so many ways. Laughing with him, talking through work problems, agreeing about things.
Murmuring in his ear in the dark
…

Marshall yawned and his bare torso stretched up out of the sheet. “Sorry, I’m pretty tired.”

Teddy flushed so hotly he could feel the heat rising up his neck in waves. “No! I mean… I’m the one should say sorry. Don’t go. I mean, I don’t want you to go. But you should.
I
should. I mean….” What
did
he mean?

“What’s wrong?”

He wondered where the hell he’d start. To admit he’d behaved like some horny teenager and Marshall had been the unfortunate victim of his lust? That he’d abused a friendship he’d secretly hoped would be more? That he’d never intended to act on that hope, not until Hell proverbially froze over? Teddy had never realized that humiliation could be so sharp or so painful. “I’m… I behaved appallingly. You don’t… you didn’t deserve that.”

Marshall was silent for a moment, just watching him. He was frowning, the skin creasing above his nose. Teddy felt the slow chill of sweat cooling on his body, and his limbs still ached. He wanted to pull the sheet up to his chin, to cover himself completely, but knew what a ridiculous gesture that would be. And pointless, now.

“Teddy.” It wasn’t a question or even annoyance. In fact, Teddy had never heard his name in Marshall’s voice in quite that way. Marshall shifted again, moving even nearer. Teddy could feel the heat radiating from the other body; he could feel Marshall’s hand wavering around Teddy’s hip, like he wanted to draw him closer. Teddy’s reawakening desire begged for another touch.
Another
? He tensed up, hating himself and his traitorous libido in equal measure. “Don’t!”

Marshall’s frown deepened. He lifted his hand away, holding the palm upward, as if placating. “It’s okay. Teddy, calm down.”

How could he? This was what he’d always dreaded. Dammit, this was why he’d given up going to the gym! Not so easy to keep lust under control when the subject of it stripped off his damp, sweaty shirt in front of you, threw you a towel, and nodded you into the shower alongside him. And he’d definitely avoided being left alone again with Marshall after a game, when he was tired and relaxed but the adrenaline still hummed along his nerve endings. God knew what other intimacies he might have shared on later evenings. What illicit
needs
he may have let slip. His passionate side just couldn’t be trusted.

Marshall gave a soft, impatient sigh. His breath was warm, the touch of it on Teddy’s shoulder a sexually charged caress. Yes, Teddy admitted to himself, this was also what he’d
dreamed
of. And the conflict had gradually become agony. Tension across his shoulders after a day in the office with Marshall Craig was the least of his problems.

The man beside him shifted as if getting more comfortable. Teddy hoped to God he hadn’t said anything out loud. “Look, Marshall. I’m just so very… sorry.” It didn’t sound any more satisfactory than before. When Marshall lifted his hand again, Teddy tried not to flinch away. But Marshall didn’t touch him. Instead, he pushed his tousled hair away from his forehead and moistened his lips.

“You don’t need to apologize.” He spoke slowly and carefully in that soft, rich voice. “I think that you behaved….” He smiled then, so slightly that Teddy wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been staring at his mouth with hopeless fascination. “You behaved superbly.”

Teddy stared. “I shouldn’t have.” Dammit, he sounded like some school boy now.

An unidentifiable emotion flickered in Marshall’s eyes. “You didn’t want to?”

Teddy flushed even more. His cock stirred between his legs, hot and heavy.

Marshall smiled more broadly. He must have seen the sheets shift at Teddy’s hips. “Thank God for that.”

What the hell did he mean? Teddy was awash with an irrational fury. The rest of his memories of the previous evening chose that moment to return, flooding in, vivid and sensual. His head started to ache again, the pain stabbing insistently at his temples. He recalled sitting at the dinner table, crowds of people around but only one man of interest, for him at least. He remembered the lights on the huge, artificial Christmas tree in the corner of the room reflecting in the pupils of Marshall’s eyes; the music from the band loud but indistinct, just a sound in the background of their conversation. The smell of Marshall’s cologne; the frisson of champagne bubbles on his tongue. “Look, I don’t really know what happened.”