Read Six Degrees of Lust Online
Authors: Taylor V. Donovan
Tags: #MLR Press LLC, #Print ISBN#978-1-60820-414-4, #Ebook ISBN# 978-1-60820-415-1
“What the hell did I do last night?” he whispered, peeling
back the bandage to look at the design.
“Fuck my life!”
Sam’s voice came loud and clear through the bathroom’s
closed door, but whatever it was, it would have to wait until Mac
364 Taylor V. Donovan
was finished freaking out himself.
The tattoo was big. Outlined in black and a combination of
green and the same shade of blue as Sam’s eyes, the exquisitely
drawn Celtic knots formed a perfect numeral 515 that covered
the inside of his forearm from elbow to wrist.
It was so big it probably took several hours to get done…and
still he couldn’t remember getting it. He couldn’t even remember
planning on getting it!
“Shit…”
“Mac!” Sam’s yell snapped him out of his bewilderment.
After taking a last, closer look at his tattoo, he opened the door
and went back to the room.
The last thing he expected to see was a totally naked Sam
sitting cross-legged on the bed with his right arm extended in
front of his eyes.
“Do you have any fucking idea what the hell this is?” he
asked without bothering to look at Mac.
“Oh, Jesus…”
Other than the fact that it was located on Sam’s right forearm,
the design was an exact replica of his own. Honestly, he wasn’t
all that surprised. They’d been inseparable from the moment they
met at the airport, so why wouldn’t they go to the tattoo parlor
together as well?
“Looks like at some point last night we decided to get inked,”
he finally said.
“You got inked too?”
Mac couldn’t decide between laughing or locking himself up
in the bathroom when he saw the terrorized look on Sam’s face.
Boy, was this going to be fun.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve gotten inked before. It doesn’t really hurt, but at the very
least it tickles,” Sam said carefully, not looking away from Mac.
“Want to tell me how it is that I don’t remember even a sting
six DegRees of Lust
365
from this one?”
“Too much alcohol afterwards, I’d say.”
“So we went for drinks, somehow decided to get tattoos, and
then went and got hammered enough to not remember any of
this?” He took a deep breath. “I remember going to the beach
and walking by the tattoo place…I don’t remember shit after
that.” He rubbed his face and looked at the window, wincing at
the bright sunlight coming through it before looking at his arm
again. “How the hell did we even make it back to the hotel?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, darlin’.”
“What’d you get?”
“I…”
Hard as he tried, Mac couldn’t figure out how to say it. Not
that it mattered. Regardless of how he broke it to Sam, the guy
was going to get upset.
Something flashed in Sam’s eyes. It was so quick Mac almost
missed it, but it looked like recognition, or even realization. Had
he remembered anything?
“Well?”
“I got the same.”
There was no reaction to his words. Anybody else would have
assumed Sam didn’t hear him, or that maybe the words hadn’t
registered at all, but Mac knew better than that.
Silence from his guy meant a storm was brewing and the
results would be catastrophic. Anything from Sam trying to chop
off his own arm, to Sam putting an end to their arrangement
could happen in the next five minutes, and Mac couldn’t allow
that.
“I think mine’s predominantly blue, like…”
He shut his mouth. It wouldn’t be smart to bring up the fact
that they’d somehow chosen ink that matched each other’s eye
color.
Sam didn’t look at him. He just kept tracing the swollen and
366 Taylor V. Donovan
reddened edges of the tattoo with a slightly trembling finger, and
the more he traced, the more tense his shoulders got. Mac had
seen him wound up before, but nothing that would compare to
this moment. He was dreading Sam’s reaction, but that didn’t
stop him from walking up to the bed and sitting next to his
guy, careful not to touch him but close enough to force him to
acknowledge his presence.
He’d been able to get Sam to calm down a few times in the
past. Maybe he’d be able to work a miracle and do it yet again.
“It’s not that big of a deal, darlin’.”
“The hell it isn’t.”
Sam’s voice was so low he almost didn’t hear him. The fact
that he wasn’t biting Mac’s head off for calling him “darlin’” at
that particular moment did not bode well for their future at all.
“Look—”
“I’ve your goddamn lucky number permanently inked on
my body, Mac. The room number we’ve stayed in every time we
fucked.”
Mac closed his eyes for a few seconds, took a deep breath,
and tried again. “It could also be your number. Didn’t you get
your FBI credentials on May fifteenth? It’s been a special date
for you way before you met me. No reason to associate it with
me… right?”
Mac swallowed hard. There. That was good.
It was a logical explanation that’d hopefully erase the possible
presence of an emotional one.
But Sam wasn’t buying.
He shot Mac a look that chilled him to the bones, then jumped
out of bed and started pacing around the room in all his naked
glory.
“At least we weren’t stupid enough to get each other’s names,”
Mac added. “I mean…imagine trying to explain that to future
partners.”
six DegRees of Lust
367
Mac’s eyes zeroed in on Sam’s flaccid cock. They were both
naked and it was morning and Sam’s cock was flaccid. It troubled
Mac that he wasn’t hard.
He wanted him hard. He wanted his Sam horny and hot
for him and ready to go. He wanted for his guy to forget about
the stupid ink and come back to bed and fuck him through the
mattress, just like he’d done every single morning they’d woken
up together.
It scared him how much he wanted it.
“I don’t do this kind of shit,” Sam said. “I don’t get so drunk
that I make harebrained decisions and I most certainly don’t get
matching tattoos with a guy that’s nothing but the flavor of the
month.”
Mac closed his eyes again and tried to remember if there were
any painkillers in the room. His headache was getting so bad his
damn eyes were tearing up.
“But we got drunk.” Was he getting a cold? His voice sounded
hoarse and his throat felt like there was something stuck in it.
“That settles it, then. No more Patron for me if I’m with a
lay,” Sam said on his way to the bathroom, not once looking at
him. “Last thing I need is to wake up with a Holiday Inn logo
tattooed on my forehead the next time I hook up with a guy.”
No sooner than the bathroom door was slammed shut Mac
was on his feet and getting dressed. Cargo shorts and tank top
were followed by a hat and his sunglasses in a matter of seconds.
Then he grabbed some money, slipped his feet in the flip flops
he’d left by the door, and left the room without making any noise.
He wasn’t planning on staying out long, but he needed to get
some aspirin and some allergy medicine. Not only did his throat
feel itchy, but his eyes were seriously leaking by the time he got
in the elevator. Besides, it was his last day in sunny Miami. Might
as well use the few hours he had left to get some souvenirs for
his friends.
§ § § §
368 Taylor V. Donovan
“Fuck… fuck… fuck!”
Sam gripped the handle of the bathroom door and bumped
his head against the solid wood time and again. He considered
going after Mac. He knew that if he hurried he’d be able to
catch him before he got to the elevator, but embarrassment and
remorse weighed him down to a point where he couldn’t move.
He needed a few minutes to get himself together. To analyze
the situation and determine how much damage he’d done. He
needed to figure out what he could possibly say to Mac after
belittling him in such a malicious way.
Lord, but Sam had disgraced himself in that room. He
admitted to being an asshole on a good day, but this was low
even for him. And Mac had so much dignity. The way he’d heard
him out and even tried to make Sam feel better about the whole
thing, the way he’d taken his abuse when it was so obvious he
didn’t have to.
Fuck.
Sam was such an asshole.
He knew that the comment about explaining a name tattoo to
a future partner had been made on his behalf. That it was Mac’s
way of letting him know he still wasn’t making assumptions even
though so many facts were hitting them both in the head, but he
couldn’t deny that it made him see red.
He let his naked body slide down until he was sitting on the
bathroom floor, eyes fixed on his brand new tattoo. The bandage
was still hanging from one corner, and he removed it completely
before taking a closer look at the design.
It was perfect; every single Celtic knot and curve, the colors an
exact match with his and Mac’s eyes. Now that he was fully awake
Sam remembered drawing it and, once it was traced, bugging the
shit out of the tattoo artist until he got the ink colors right.
Neither he nor Mac had been drunk when they got inked.
Sam bumped his head against the door again and pulled at
his hair.
six DegRees of Lust
369
With the exception of one hour every day in which Mac went
out for a run by himself and Sam used the hotel’s gym, they’d
been pretty much attached at the hip, and the past four days
together had been incredible. He couldn’t remember having so
much fun with anyone before, or wanting them so much.
Sam was out of his mind hot for Mac. No matter how many
times they were together, it was never enough.
He couldn’t afford to become addicted to the guy.
He couldn’t afford to let his guard down.
He was a hard ass. He was an island. He was an emotional
loner.
He didn’t share his personal shit. He didn’t do courtships. He
didn’t get jealous and threaten to beat up other guys.
He hated that he was having thoughts he didn’t want. Hated
that he’d felt the need to mark this man as his. And he hated
himself for acting like a total douche bag and hurting Mac.
Coming to South Beach had been a terrible idea, and now he
had to deal with it.
He had to get a hold of himself. Get on track and make sure
he never lost focus again.
And he needed to apologize to Mac and somehow get him to
forgive all the things he’d said.
After attending to his bladder and brushing his teeth, he went
back to the bedroom and grabbed his phone from his jeans. He
didn’t give the usual careful consideration to his words. He just
typed the first thing that came to his mind and sent it to Mac.
I’m sorry
He blinked at the words and waited for a reply. When several
minutes went by and his phone remained silent, he typed
something he was positive he’d never said to anyone else in his
entire life.
Please come back
370 Taylor V. Donovan
Still no response.
He was trying to decide what to say next when he spotted
Mac’s cell phone and room card key on their little breakfast table,
along with a plastic bag. “Shit.”
He looked inside the bag and found it contained some extra
bandages and ointment for their tattoos, then he glanced at the
phone again, annoyed that he couldn’t get in touch with Mac but
relieved that at least he wasn’t ignoring his messages.
A quick look at his watch told him it was almost noon.
“Shit!”
Why was Mac still out? How long had it been since he left?
They were supposed to check out of the hotel by two and be at
the airport by four to catch their flights. Flights that would take
them to different states in separate planes, which meant Sam only
had a little over an hour before they had to get ready to leave.
He reached for the jeans he’d been wearing the night before
and put them on. He had no idea where to start looking for Mac,
but he couldn’t just sit there and wait.
Not wanting to waste time he didn’t have, he decided the same
shirt would do, and pulled it from the back of the couch. He was
buttoning it up when he noticed a white piece of paper on the
floor. Thinking it was a note from Mac he rushed to unfold it,
only to find out it was the original design for the tattoo.
Amazing how firm and perfect it was, considering Sam had
been tipsy and in the throes of a jealousy attack when he’d drawn
it. He folded it back and left it next to Mac’s phone. He wanted
him to have it. Even if Mac couldn’t remember getting it, Sam
wasn’t about to pretend the tattoo hadn’t been his idea.
He brushed his hair with his fingers and slipped on his flip
flops, remembering to grab his card key right before leaving the
room. He didn’t get far, though. No need to, as the first thing
he saw upon opening the door was Mac, sitting on the floor and
resting his head against the wall across from their room. The