Stripped Bare (14 page)

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Authors: Susan Mac Nicol

BOOK: Stripped Bare
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“I’ve had five million pounds disappear out of a private offshore account that only you and your father knew about. The Channel Islands one. Seeing as how your father is deceased, that leaves me with one option. You. So perhaps you’d like to tell me what the hell you’ve done with my money!” The man’s voice grew louder and uglier with every spoken syllable.

Matthew’s heart sank. He thought he might know who had taken his ex-employer’s money. He was sexy and blonde with a distinct lack of ethics. “I don’t know anything about your missing money. Don’t blame me because you can’t manage it.”

“Matthew, I’m warning you. Don’t fuck with me. You were the only one other than Roy who knew about this account. The bank is investigating and they will find out what happened, I promise you.”

“Well, perhaps you should ask Roy,” Matthew said, his voice tight. “Originally you said only my father and me knew about it. Now good old Roy also knew it was there. Who else, Walter? The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker? It had nothing to do with me, so leave me the hell alone.” He disconnected the call and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes in despair.

“Shane, what the hell have you done, you arsehole?” He dialled his lover’s number, scowling when it went to voicemail. He left a terse message.

“Shane, I’ve just had a call from Walter Debussy asking me if I had anything to with some missing money. Please tell me you had nothing to do with that. Call me back.”

He rang off and sat and stared at his computer screen for a while, his mind racing. His mobile rang. It was Shane. He picked it up quickly.

“Shane? You got my message?”

“Hello to you too.” Shane didn’t sound all that worried, and Matthew started to feel relieved. Perhaps he was barking up the wrong tree after all.

“Sorry, I’m rather uptight this side. Walter called me accusing me of doing something with his money. It’s gone missing and I was one of only a couple of people that knew about this account. He thinks I may have had something to do with it.”

“So money goes missing from some rich guy’s account and all of a sudden I’m your number one suspect?” Shane’s voice was even.

Matthew started to feel uncomfortable. “I know you have the means to take his money, and you certainly had the motivation after the way he treated you at the hospital. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have anything to do with this whole thing.”

There was silence. Then, “No, I didn’t. It was nothing to do with me. If he’s lost money, it’s through his own carelessness, or a bank error.” Shane sounded out of sorts.

“Shay, I’m sorry I had to ask. It’s just—”

“Never mind. Look, I’ll talk to you later, all right? I’m in the middle of something and I need to get it finished. I’ll call you.” Shane rang off.

Matthew sighed. He hoped this wasn’t yet another time he’d have to apologise to his new buddy.

 

Back home Shane was storming round his study, his face black with anger—anger at himself.

Christ, had he just dropped Matty in it?

He’d had no idea when he took that money that there was any way Matthew could possibly have been connected with that bank account. Now Walter Debussy thought he might have been involved and there was no way he was letting that be laid at Matty’s door.

No bloody way
.

He slammed his fist on the desk. He’d have to move the money back somehow. He’d have to create a record that looked like a clerical error or something the bank had done. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d engineered such a thing. He’d have to move quickly though. He had no doubt they’d be investigating Walter’s missing money. The quicker these things were done the less likely they were to be noticed and scrutinised, especially if it went back in quick enough.

Shane ran a hand through his hair and sat down at his desk, hitting the keyboard in a series of fast strokes, totally focused on the task hand, his fingers flying as he moved the money back into Walter Debussy’s account.

It took him an hour, but finally he thought he might have sorted it. He watched as the screen scrolled and the flickering images flashed, and he heaved a sigh of satisfaction as the balance on Walter’s account increased by five million pounds. Walter might think it was a coincidence that the money was back in his account just after speaking to Matthew, but he could do nothing about that.

Hopefully the trail he’d left would be noticed as simply being the clerical error he’d created. Let the bank explain it if they could. They’d probably be satisfied that the money was back and one of their biggest customers was happy.

“Sorry, David, old son,” he muttered to himself. “You just lost your nest egg. Better that than have my new boyfriend arrested. I can’t have anything happen to him. He’s been through enough.”

Agreeing the boundaries

Matthew arrived at Shane’s place around eight with a bottle of wine in one hand and a good bottle of whiskey in the other after Shane texted him to come for dinner. Relieved that Shane wasn’t upset about Matthew’s questions earlier concerning the event with Walter, their relationship appeared to be back on track.

He knocked and waited for the door to open. When it did, his legs nearly gave way. Shane was dressed in the sexiest little black number he’d ever seen. Smooth black chinos tapered down his legs to his ankles. He was barefoot. A tight-fitting, long-sleeved black silk shirt, half opened, left a broad expanse of pale chest with a smattering of blond hair on show. Matthew knew that hair extended all the way down. His dark blond hair was mussed up and still wet and his very kissable lips smiled such a warm welcome that Matthew was instantly smitten once again by Shane’s utter sexiness.

“Matty, come on in. And close your mouth. We’ll do that a bit later, I promise.”

He chuckled, the sound making Matthew’s groin throb and he found himself so hard he could barely walk.

Shane apparently noticed because his eyes glinted. “Calm down. You think this is for you?” He gestured casually at his outfit as his boyfriend followed him into the kitchen. “I got offered such a good deal on a Carrington engagement later with some rich Arab Sheikh that it was too good to turn down.”

Matthew’s temper flared at the thought of someone else with Shane. His body stilled as Shane continued.

“Apparently he loves slim blond men in black and he likes to—”

Matthew could take it no longer. He slammed down the bottles of wine and whiskey onto the counter top and gripped Shane, pushing him against the wall with a fierceness that made their bodies slam together. He saw Shane’s sly smile, felt his rising excitement in the hard press of his erection against Matthew’s hips.

“You had better
not
be going out later dressed like that to meet some rich client,” he said through gritted teeth. “I have my limits, Shay. And you’ve just reached them.” He took Shane’s mouth in a hard kiss, his cock pushing against him. Shane moaned into his mouth, his breath warm and his tongue as eager as his hands that stroked down the front of Matthew’s trousers, caressing the hardness he found there.

“Matty, I was joking, honest,” he laughed between rough kisses. His skin was already starting to feel tender from the bristle on Matthew’s chin and top lip. “Christ, you’re like my own personal sandpaper. Easy, tiger.”

Matthew drew back, breathing hard, his eyes dark and unfocused. He felt such a sense of possession that it was hard to relinquish his hold on the man standing in front of him with swollen lips and eyes that looked like cool, clear pools of azure water.

“This is all for you, Matty,” Shane whispered as his lips nuzzled Matthew’s ear. “Only for you. Now can we get back to other social niceties so we can at least eat first before we get onto more of the good stuff?”

Reluctantly Matthew pulled away and walked unsteadily around the centre island of the kitchen, craving a drink to calm his nerves.

“There’s a word for men like you,” he said huskily as he uncorked the wine.

Shane grinned wickedly. “Really? And what would that be then?” Matthew ignored him as he poured two glasses of wine and passed one to Shane.

“Ta. That looks good. Spent more than a fiver on this one then, did you?” He moved deftly out of the way of Matthew’s slap to his arm and dodged around the island to the other side.

“God, you are very physical tonight. I’m looking forward to that later.” He sipped his wine and moved over to the stove. He busied himself with sorting out whatever was on the top—it smelt deliciously like fish—as Matthew watched him. He took a deep breath, not wanting to spoil the mood but needing to speak to Shane.

“Walter Debussy had some woman who said she was his PA call me.” He took a large gulp of wine and then another one.

Shane continued messing about at the stove. “Oh yes? I thought that douche bag Roy was his PA. What did she have to say?”

“That it seemed there had been some glitch with the bank and Walter’s money had been found safe and sound.”

Shane turned and threw him a dazzling smile. “See, I told you. The bank cocked up. I’m glad it got sorted. I didn’t like the idea that they thought you had anything to do with it.”

Matthew sighed. “As long as he’s got his bloody money back I don’t really care.” He gulped his wine. He hadn’t eaten at all today, and it was giving him a bit of a buzz.

Shane looked at him in amusement. “Let me fill that up for you.” He took Matthew’s glass and topped him up. Matthew smiled his thanks.

“Right, I think we can eat. Poached salmon with lemon butter sauce, baby potatoes, mange touts and my personal favourite, asparagus spears.”

Matthew’s mouth watered. “God, that sounds good. You’ll make some man a good wife one day.” They grinned at each other as Shane dished up, and soon they were eating heartily whilst telling each other about their day. Finally they both sat back, stuffed with good food and probably more wine than was safe for a weeknight. Matthew had the feeling he might have a bit of a headache in the morning.

Shane stood up. “Come on, into the lounge. Time to kick off your shoes and get comfy on the couch. Maybe there’s a decent movie on we can watch. Leave the dishes. I’ll sort them out later. That’s what dishwashers are for.”

Matthew didn’t listen but instead busied himself packing the dishwasher while Shane watched him in resignation. Matthew smiled at the look he got. “You cooked. I clean. Fair’s fair. Can’t have the little woman doing all the housework.” He chuckled as Shane reached out and cuffed the side of his head.

Once the kitchen was clear, he wandered over to the couch. He flopped down on it, kicking off his shoes, and his socks followed soon after. He wiggled his toes, loving the sense of freedom in having nothing on his feet and settled back with a satisfied smile. Shane leapt onto the couch, sitting cross-legged next to him. Matthew made a small noise, closing his eyes at the feel of Shane’s hand running through his hair.

“You’re like a cat, you know that? You and your cat noises,” chuckled his lover.

Matthew opened one eye indignantly. “I am not. When do I make cat noises?”

Shane leaned in, his lips brushing Matthew’s ear. “Well, when I was sucking you off the other night, you definitely made little baby cat noises. And then when you came, you roared like a bloody lion.” He laughed in delight at the flush that crept over Matthew’s face. He glared at Shane.

“And then there’s the cat-like licking…” Shane watched his face and Matthew thought Shane was testing the waters. He smiled and leaned over, running his tongue along Shane’s jaw line.

“I like licking you,” he whispered. “You taste good.” He licked his way down to Shane’s mouth and kissed him, his lover’s lips soft and yielding beneath his. The pair drew apart and Shane snuggled in under Matthew’s arm.

“You drive the remote. Find something we can watch until our supper settles.”

Both of them liked horror movies.
28 Days Later
was showing, and they settled into watch Cillian Murphy wander aimlessly through the streets of a zombie-strewn London.

They were halfway through the movie when Shane’s hand was rubbing Matthew’s thigh as he watched the film.

Matthew had one thing he needed to discuss. It had been on his mind since the weekend, but he’d thought it was too soon to broach the subject then. But perhaps now might be a more amenable time especially given Shane’s earlier comment about the Arab Sheikh.

“Shay?”

“Hmm?” Shane’s hand was getting higher and Matthew was finding it difficult to concentrate on Cillian being pursued by dead, flesh-eating zombies.

“I know you said you were joking earlier about going out later, but
are
you intending still doing the escort work while we see each other?” His voice was quiet and he saw Shane sit up and look at him. He met the blue gaze with a level stare and forged ahead.

“I know you said you didn’t sleep with your clients unless you really wanted to, but I’m not sure I could live with that in any way. I know this is early days but I’m not a player, Shane. If I start seeing a guy, it’s one at a time, no matter what the nature of the relationship is. I’d expect the same from the person I’m seeing. That may sound unfair, but it’s the only way I can do it.”

Shane smiled. “I don’t really need the money. I did it mostly so I could touch hot guys and get blow jobs. If you’re going to meet those needs—
often
” he emphasized with a wicked grin, “—I don’t really need anyone else.” He leaned forward to tickle Matthew’s ear with his tongue. “As long as you’re man enough to keep me happy in that arena, I guess I could give it up for you. Maybe one day I might even get to see where you live. It would be nice to see you on your own turf for a change.”

Matthew felt uncomfortable. Taking Shane home to the house he’d shared with Sam wasn’t on his dance card anytime soon. That implied a level of commitment he wasn’t ready to give.

“I don’t expect you to give up the escorting,” he murmured. “Just stick to the escort servicing and nothing else. At least until we figure out what we want from each other.”

“I know what I want from you,” Shane whispered in Matthew’s ear, causing him to squirm in sheer tortured pleasure. “I want you to suck me off. Then I want you to fuck me.”

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