Stripped Bare (11 page)

The following morning Matthew waded through various legal briefs and documents, his mind not focusing on his work.

Finally he heaved a sigh, sat back in his chair and picked up his mobile. The card Shane had given him sat on his desk, and he picked it up, looking at the front. He’d put this off long enough. Time to make the call he was dreading. He dialled the mobile number on the card and waited. The phone rang –once, twice, three times. Just as he felt a slight surge of relief that Shane wasn’t going to answer, the ringing stopped.

“Shane Templar.” Just the voice of the man was enough to send Matthew’s hormones raging with the memories of what they’d done last night.

“Shane, it’s Matthew. I wanted—”

“Fuck off.” The phone went dead. Matthew stared at it in despair.
That
hadn’t gone well. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He stared unseeingly at the business card still clenched in his hand.

“Matthew, are you all right?” Julia’s concerned voice cut through his thoughts. He looked up, managing a smile.

“Hmm? Yes, fine thanks.” He tucked the card under a legal brief in a quick motion.

“You don’t look fine.” Julia walked in and sat down on the visitors’ chair on the other side of the desk. “You look like a man who got no sleep and who just found out his dog has died. Want to talk about it?”

Her blue eyes regarded him appraisingly. She waited, not giving up. Finally he relented. Perhaps it might help to talk about it to someone. Not the details, just the principle.

“I did a bad thing last night. I insulted someone who didn’t deserve it and hurt them and now they won’t even talk to me so I can apologise. And I need to tell him I’m sorry that I was a complete bastard.”

“Then go find him.” Julia said softly. “It’s nearly lunchtime. Take the time and go and see him. Don’t let it fester. The longer you leave it, the further away the problem becomes, and you end up never resolving it. Take it from someone who knows.”

Matthew shook his head. “He won’t see me. I doubt I’ll even get past his front door.”

“Try.” Julia stood up. “Just try, Matthew.” She smiled and left his office.

He stared after her. Half an hour later, he found himself standing outside Shane’s front door, his heart hammering in his chest and a sick feeling in his stomach. Before he could lose his nerve, he rang the buzzer. He heard a muffled acknowledgement from inside and then the door opened.

Shane stared out at him, no look of welcome on his face. He was dressed in a pair of grey chinos, with a form-fitting red sweatshirt that clung to his body. The sleeves were rolled up, and Matthew could see the fine hairs on his forearms. Arms that had held him close last night.

Shane glared at Matthew. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He scowled. “No matter; you won’t be staying.”

He made to close the door and Matthew threw caution to the wind and put his size-eleven foot in the doorway. “Shane, we need to talk.”

Shane snarled. “Get your bloody clodhopper out of the way before I break it. You made your point very eloquently last night. We have nothing else to say to each other.”

Matthew heard the words, but he also saw the flicker of vulnerability in Shane’s eyes. “I’m not leaving,” he said. “I need to apologise to you for being such a bastard last night. Please, Shane. Please let me in.”

He watched the play of emotions across Shane’s face: anger, hurt, and frustration, then finally a grudging acceptance that he wasn’t going to get rid of Matthew so easily. He made a curt gesture with his hand and motioned to Matthew to come in. Once inside he shut the door and turned to him, his face grim.

“Say what you have to say. I have work to do.
Real
work, not man-fucking.” His voice was harsh.

Matthew flinched. Time for the speech he’d been rehearsing since he’d been kicked out last night. “You were right about me. I don’t do emotions easily; I never have. And it’s been worse since Sam died.” He swallowed as Shane watched him intently. “Sam was my husband. He died two years ago in a road traffic accident.”

Shane’s eyes flickered as he folded his arms in front of his chest. He looked impenetrable, but Matthew had to try and explain to him why he’d been such an arsehole last night. “We were together for six years before he died.” Matthew took a deep breath. “He was my world. We met at a lawyer’s conference in Atlanta in the U.S. in 2004. Sam lived there for a long time although he was British by birth. One thing led to another and we started a long distance relationship. It was hard for the first six months. Then he decided he couldn’t bear being away from me and to move back to the U.K. so we could be together permanently.” Matthew smiled as he remembered Sam’s insistence that he was going “crazy being away from his honey” and needed to be with him. His warm American drawl had been one of the first things that had attracted Matthew to Sam in the first place.

Shane shifted in the entrance, uncrossing his arms, his body watchful. He still said nothing, just focused on Matthew’s face with that blue gaze that seemed to spear his soul.

“We moved in together in the house in Chelsea I still own, and we got married in 2007.” He swallowed, remembering the ceremony in his birth town of Dresden, a ceremony filled with family and relatives, joyous and warm, his parents so accepting of their new son-in-law. They’d adored Sam just as he had.

His voice caught at his next words. “Then on the eighteenth of May two years ago, Sam was driving home late from work.” The date was seared on his memory like a cancer. “We were supposed to be at a family dinner. My folks had come over to visit and we had some really good news for them we wanted to announce. He’d been called in by his boss and asked to work late on an important case. Sam was a criminal attorney. He was used to having to do things at a drop of a hat. So we all stayed at our place to wait for him. On his way home a truck jackknifed and—” Matthew swallowed, feeling the grief well up in him, “It hit his car head on. He was killed instantly.” His throat closed up and Shane shifted. He moved towards Matthew and placed a hand on his arm.

“Matthew, come and sit down.” He pulled the other man towards the lounge, indicating for him to sit down on the soft brown couch that seemed to fill the room.

Matthew sat down, his body numb. Shane sat at the opposite end, his body language not as aggressive as it had been but still wary.

Matthew looked down at his shaking hands. “I had to identify his body. He was pretty messed up.” Matthew’s voice tightened. “My dad took me and we did it together.”

Shane shifted closer. His eyes were softer now, the gaze not as piercing as it had been. Matthew took a deep, shuddering breath. “I went to pieces. I started drinking. I drank so much I slept around. I didn’t even care if they used protection or not. It was like I had a death wish. I thought about it.” His voice went quieter. “Dying, I mean. But that would have killed my folks.” He had more to tell but he wasn’t ready yet to tell Shane the whole story. That was too raw and this was all still too new.

Shane reached out a warm hand and took Matthew’s cold one. His earlier touchiness had certainly disappeared. “God, you’d lost someone, Matthew. Someone you loved. You were allowed to go off the rails although I’d never advocate killing yourself. And you pulled yourself back from the brink. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

Matthew had already said more than he’d intended, but Shane was so easy to talk to. He didn’t want this to become more emotional that it was. “I’m so sorry I was such a prick,” he managed to say at last. “Last night I saw Sam’s wedding ring still on my finger after we fucked and it just all came flooding back. I normally take it off, but I forgot. It just made me crazy. I-–I like you, Shane. I want to see more of you. But I’m just not ready to make it anything more than just sex and two men sharing each other’s company. If you can live with that, maybe we can strike a deal.”

Shane stared into Matthew’s red rimmed eyes. “I’m happy to take it slowly and see where it goes.” He smiled. “But I am an impatient bastard. When I find something I like, I tend to want to get it. So be warned.”

He leaned forward and kissed Matthew, his impatient, hungry tongue seeking out Matthew’s own. Matthew loved the taste of him, the unique taste of mint, coffee and just Shane.

Suddenly the loud tones of Muse’s “Supremacy” shattered the quiet of the apartment. Shane grimaced as he detached his lips from Matthew’s and stood up. “Mobile,” he explained at Matthew’s puzzled look. “Work beckons.” He moved over to the kitchen top and picked up his mobile. “Shane Templar. Afternoon, Kade. What can I do for Moonshine Inc. today?”

Matthew saw Shane’s brow furrow in concentration as he listened.

“I can take a look for you. It sounds to me like users need to upgrade to the latest version so that it takes care of the security issue. That software is bloody wide open from the sounds of it. The last thing you want is that level of vulnerability. Send me the links and I’ll take a look. No problem. Cheers, Kade.”

He finished his conversation and looked at Matthew.

“Sorry about that. Now where were we?”

Matthew frowned. “That sounded pretty impressive. I don’t even know what you do for a living other than the escorting. I know you said your laptop was your trusty tool but what exactly does that mean?”

Shane looked wary. “I do consultations for companies.”

“What kind of consultations?”

“I help them with their security arrangements.”

Matthew thought Shane was being extremely cagey with his job details. “Again, what exactly is it that you do?”

Shane sighed. “I suppose you’d know it better as hacking. I help people find the flaws in their online security and shut the loop holes.” He looked at Matthew as if expecting him to ask a question.

“So you’re a hacker? Do you have a Certified Ethical Hacker—a CEH certificate?” Matthew felt a glimmer of satisfaction at Shane’s surprised expression.

“Yes, I do, amongst other things. You know about this stuff then? I help companies find the flaws in their security systems.” He grinned. “The first question people normally ask me is can I hack into their bank and put money in their account, change their University scores or whether aliens do actually exist in the CIA database. It gets boring.” He smirked. “Even if I can do all those things. But I hate to tell you, there are no bloody aliens out there.” He smiled. “I’ve been doing this since I was a kid, found I had a talent for it and did a whole load of courses and certifications.” He shrugged. “It’s a good living doing something I love.”

Matthew chuckled and nodded. Now that he’d shared some of his burden about Sam, he felt a lot more relaxed. “Sam had a case once which hinged around criminal activity in hacking. We used to talk about it. He was helping prosecute a young man who was a cracker, who’d gained access to a major bank group and defrauded them of over three million pounds. I learnt quite a bit about it then. I helped him research it.” He looked at Shane. “Are you good at it then?”

Shane smiled, looking as if the fact Matthew knew something about what he did was quite a turn-on. “Yup, I’m one of the best, baby.
Backdoor
at your service. Bushwhacker and I are legends in there.” He waved toward his laptop.

Matthew almost swallowed his tongue. “
Backdoor
?” he gasped. “Really, that’s your online name?”

Shane grinned. “You know it. A bit of the old double entendre. Backdoor as in going through a system arse about tits and of course,” he winked cheekily, “there’s the other bit as well.”

Matthew chuckled. “God, you are incorrigible. I thought I’d heard everything when I learnt about your bloody computer and the fact he had a name. I’m going to have my hands full with you, aren’t I?”

Shane leaned forward and trailed his lips across Matthew’s. He looked pleased at Matthew’s words, a faint smile on his face.

“I’m counting on it. In
so
many ways, Mr. Langer.”

Matthew groaned. Five minutes later after some fairly intense lip activity and lots of nuzzling Matthew was feeling much better. God knows how he was going to make it back to the office without poking everyone on the tube with his raging hard-on, but he’d have to manage it.

“I really need to get back to work,” he said as he lay cuddled against Shane’s side. “I called and told them I’d work later to make up for the time. But I don’t want to take advantage of them. I really like working there.”

Shane kissed the top of his head. “Fine. You go back and do your lawyerly stuff. Maybe we can get together on the weekend and really get to know each other better.” He stroked Matthew’s cheek softly. “But before you go…”

“Shane, what the hell are you doing?” Matthew gasped as Shane’s hands reached inside his now miraculously open trousers and grasped him firmly.

“Make-up sex,” he said huskily as he bent over Matthew’s lap. “Always the best kind. I can’t have you going back to your prissy law firm with something like this. It would be such a bloody waste.”

Shane stood at the window and watched as Matthew made his way across the busy street to the tube to return to work. The raging emptiness inside Shane that had been there since last night had been immediately assuaged by the sight of the other man standing, pale and looking like shit, on his doorstep. The earlier phone call had simply caught Shane at a bad time. He’d been feeling pretty miffed about the whole sorry event of last night. But seeing the man in person, knowing that he’d got guts to do that for him, knock on his door not knowing what to expect—that had been different.

He’d liked the fact that Matthew thought he was “going to have his hands full with him.” In his book that implied a longer-term relationship than he’d thought Matthew had wanted.

Shane had always been a nurturer. His mother had used to say that if Shane saw something broken he’d want to fix it. Unfortunately, that seemed to extend to humans as well. And Matthew Langer, sexy, tortured, and great tasting, was someone he wanted to repair. Shane had sent Matthew on his way after relieving his pressure with a quick blow job. Matthew had promised to call him tonight after work. Perhaps there might be a chance of a get-together. It was Friday night after all. And the weekend ahead sounded promising.