Stripped Bare (7 page)

Shane felt a pang of disappointment. “Oh, okay. Well, you have my number. If you change your mind give me a call.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks for this morning and stay safe, Shane. Be seeing you.” The line went dead. Shane glared at his phone.

Well, that was a bloody total loss.
That had so not gone the way he wanted. He kicked the bed leg sulkily. Now what was he supposed to do? He glared around the hotel room as he puffed his cheeks out in a sigh. He supposed he’d better be getting off to his own home. He was already an hour overdue on his check-out time, and they’d be kicking him out sooner or later. He gathered up his belongings, packed Bushwhacker into his case, and slung his computer satchel over his shoulder. When he got home he thought he’d do a bit of digging on Mr. Matthew Langer. See what made him tick.

Despite his usual respect for corporate companies and their systems, leaving them alone for the most part, Shane didn’t apply the same philosophy to people. He had an unfortunate tendency to disregard it when it came to them. He believed it was his God-given right to use the talents he had to pry into people’s affairs. After all, the internet was nothing more than a huge data dump of information, and he was an expert at mining it. It was knowing where to look that was the key. Shane smiled in satisfaction as he left the hotel to walk back to his flat.

Two hours later Shane took a sip of his red wine and leaned back in his office chair. His eyes were gritty and tired from staring at his computer screen. He frowned at the images in front of him, populating his screen like wall tiles.

He’d managed to find out quite a bit about the man, to the extent that he now had his very own folder on his computer. Nothing earth-shattering, but at least it gave him a clue as to who he might be beneath the controlled exterior. Matthew Langer was indeed thirty years old, born in Dresden, Germany on May third.

Hmm, a Taurus. That explained a lot. Cool, calm and collected. And bloody stubborn,
he imagined
.

Shane had an affinity for the “science” of star signs, himself being a Gemini. His birthday was on the eighth of June. He’d already done a quick search to see what the blurbs said about them being compatible. It wasn’t very encouraging. Earth plus Air tended to make dust, apparently.

Matthew was the son of a German banker—his mother, Greta—and Erich Langer, a solicitor, now deceased. Greta worked for a branch of the Dresdner Bank in Dresden, where she lived, having moved back there after Erich’s death. Matthew had stayed in London. He had an older sister, Rachel, a fashion model, who seemed to travel a lot. She was a real stunner too, a lot like her brother, only a feminine version. She had the same grey eyes and hair colour.

Matthew was on no social networking sites that Shane could find, which didn’t surprise him given the man’s control issues. He had a Gmail account, named, logically, like the man himself, [email protected]. Shane had found out Matthew’s middle name was Dominik. Shane rather liked that, thinking it was unusual. Other than the usual legal sites and professional associations, he didn’t seem to have any particular hobbies or interests. He wasn’t a member of the local Gaymen society, or a dom at a BDSM club (something Shane was disappointed in, that would
so
have suited the man, especially one with a middle name like Dominik), or even involved in anything charitable that the hacker could find. Matthew was indeed a bit of a dark horse. But at least he wasn’t a member of the local cross-dressing society, the arty drag queen scene or, thank the saints, involved with any specific religion. Shane was an atheist and wasn’t one to suffer religious fools gladly. “Live and let live” was his motto as long as people didn’t try to convince him of their side. The man might be a God-fearing Christian or C of E member, but there was nothing evident in the ether indicating anything extreme. That would have put Shane off straight away despite the look of the man’s rear end and his incredible eyes.

He looked at the pictures dotted on his screen. They showed Matthew in various poses and shots, all taken at charity dinners and business events, mainly for Debussy Enterprises. Some showed him talking to other businessmen, while in others he stood to one side as others basked in their moment of photographic glory. But the one thing that had intrigued him was a picture of Matthew standing closely next to an older man, their hands almost touching, their heads bowed together in what looked like true affection. The other man was taller than Matthew, with a slim build, a mane of dark deep red hair and a winning smile. The caption simply said;

Matthew Langer, lawyer to Walter Debussy, and Sam Cartwright, local entrepreneur at the recent Debussy “Children’s Day” Charity Gala event.
The date stamp was April 2009.

He felt a slight twinge of jealousy at the way the other man was staring at Matthew.

“Who are you, then?” he murmured. “Mr. Sam Cartwright, I certainly need to find out what your role in the delicious Mr. Langer’s life is.”

Half an hour later he wished he hadn’t been so curious. The one story that he’d uncovered was deeply personal and even Shane felt a sense of shame at delving into the man’s personal background. Sam Cartwright had been Matthew’s husband. He’d been two years older than Matthew. They’d been married under a civil partnership in 2007.

In May 2010, just a couple of weeks after Matthew’s twenty-eighth birthday, Sam had been driving home from his office late at night. A truck had jackknifed and hit his car. Sam had died instantly in a mangle of metal and blood. It had been a quick, merciful death according to the pathology reports that Shane had managed to access.

Merciful for Sam, but not for Matthew. Shane closed his laptop, feeling sick.

He’d seen the flash of pain in Matthew’s eyes when he’d asked him about his husband. Obviously he still wasn’t over his lover’s death. Shane wasn’t sure
he
would be, after three years together with the same man as a husband and who knew how long before that. And violent death was always the worst. No chance to say goodbye. From what he’d found on the net, Matthew’s father had died three years ago of a heart attack as well. So the man had lost two close family members.

This is crap. I have the hots for a man with a few demons of his own and who’s still probably in love with the man he lost. Go figure. I find one I really like and wouldn’t mind a relationship with and he’s already taken.

He scowled as he stood, up, prowling around his flat in his sweatpants.

I’ll probably never even see the guy again.

New Beginnings

Matthew glanced around his new office on his first day at work and heaved a sigh of relief. The last week had been a nightmare as he’d filled in form after form online applying for jobs. Finally he’d heard via a friend from university that a small law firm in the city was hiring. He’d taken the plunge and called them direct and was glad he had. He and his new boss, Bartholomew Maxwell, had gotten on like a house on fire in the interview and found they had much of the same interests and ethics. Bartholomew, never to be called Bart, as he’d warned Matthew with a glint in his eyes, had hired him there and then as another one of his General Counsels. Matthew had been on cloud nine when he’d gotten the offer and promised his new employer he wouldn’t be sorry.

Now he had his very own small office overlooking the financial district in London and the promise of a pay cheque at the end of the month, even if it was less than he was used to. He’d make it work.

He smiled as Julia Francis, the office manager, came into his office with a wide grin. He quite liked her and they had hit it off straight away. She was in her early forties, a dark-haired, rounded, buxom woman with an endearing personality and, apparently, a rod of steel in her back. She kept the office ticking over, acting as a general manager, and Bartholomew seemed to hold her in high regard. Her clear blue eyes regarded him now, her expression warm.

“Matthew, you’re settling in? I know the office isn’t very big, but at least it will afford you some privacy and a place to store those mountains of paper your wonderful boss is going to give you.” Her tone was wry. “Before you know it we won’t be able to see you behind the desk. I might have to send out a search party to look for you.”

Matthew chuckled. “I’m looking forward to getting stuck in. Don’t worry, it won’t be the first time I’ve had to be physically extricated from a mountain of paperwork.”

She laughed. “I’m glad to hear it.” Her face grew more serious. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. How is your friend, the one who was in the hospital? David, was it?”

Matthew felt touched she’d even remembered the story from his interview.

“He’s a lot better, thanks for asking. “

He’d called the hospital and found out that David was out of hospital and back home. He hadn’t yet managed to make contact with him. He suspected Walter had put the fear of God into him not to speak to Matthew.

As he said the words, a sudden thought of Shane popped into his mind. He wondered if Shane had seen David yet, perhaps even escorted him anywhere. Just the thought of that sent a slight surge of jealousy through his body. The idea of the two of them getting into each other was just too much.

He’d tried very hard to put Shane out of his mind but he had to confess, he wasn’t making a very good job of it. He still jerked off in his lonely moments to the thought of Shane tied up on a bed, those amazing blue eyes looking up into his, the thought of those very kissable lips moaning under his assault….

He became aware Julia was looking at him. “Everything all right, Matthew? For a moment there you zoned out on me.”

He shook his head. “Everything’s fine. I was just thinking of David.”

She nodded. “It’s tough when a friend gets hurt. From what you told me, you two seemed very close.” Her face coloured. “Is he, you know, a boyfriend or something?” She clapped a well-manicured hand to her mouth. “Sorry, Matthew, that’s really none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Or something.” Matthew grinned at her mortified expression. “We’ve been friends since we were fourteen. And don’t worry; I’m not offended. Believe me, I could do worse than David. Rich, handsome and a pretty good conversationalist. Just not my type.”

No, his type was about five-ten, dirty blonde hair, an even dirtier mouth, blue eyes and a cheeky demeanour that threw him every time the man opened his mouth. He didn’t even know how old Shane was. Probably in his mid-twenties. Too young, really. He needed someone more his own age or older. Someone like Sam.

Julia smiled. “Well, the man that gets you will be a very lucky one. You’ve already broken a few female hearts here when they heard you weren’t available.” She chuckled. “I understand they had a bit of a lucky draw going on as to who might get to bring you your first cup of coffee and get to chat you up with a view to a bonk.” She pretended a horrified expression. “Oops, did I really say that aloud? You won’t have me up for sexual harassment, will you?”

Matthew laughed, a sound he hadn’t heard from himself lately. “I think I might like it here. No standing on ceremony. Always a very admirable trait.” The pair smiled at each other comfortably.

“If you need anything, you let me know. My door is always open and you can come to me with anything.” Julia smiled and disappeared. Matthew sat down in his office chair, feeling a huge sense of relief. He thought this might just work out fine.

That night as he left work he decided he’d trawl the clubs and see if he could locate David at any of his usual haunts. Matthew needed to find out how he was and what had actually happened that night before the hospital. He worried that David might be in even more danger than he realised.

Matthew went home and changed into his club clothes: his black, ass-hugging jeans, a striped black and wine silky long-sleeved shirt and a favourite black sweater with buttons in the front. He took a good look at himself in the mirror and sighed. He may as well do this in style. Maybe he could even get lucky tonight. He’d been feeling the stress of being celibate for the last few weeks, and he needed some human company. His hands were getting tired doing all the dirty work. At least there might be some benefit to running around looking for David.

He went to three of David’s preferred clubs before finding him at an exclusive venue in Soho called Essence. Essence was one that Matthew hadn’t been to before but he knew David liked it. He paid the exorbitant entrance fee and walked in, struggling his way through the crowds on the dance floor to the bar at the back of the club. He was starting to get fed up. It was costing him a small fortune getting into the places and it was money he could ill afford. He
had
been hit on half a dozen times, had his arse groped and endured myriad looks of lust, combined with hair flicking, lascivious winks, and lip licks.

Despite all the action he was offered, he still hadn’t been ready to make a move with anyone. He told himself he wanted to find David first before he got his rocks off. Matthew wasn’t keen on the nightclubs, but they were a necessary evil when you didn’t want emotional ties.

The nightclubs had been Sam’s forte. He’d loved dancing with Matthew to the music, but the slow ones had been Matthew’s favourites. The memory of Sam groping his backside and the feel of his crotch against his own made him smile as he stood sipping his gin and tonic at the bar, his eyes scouring the room for any sight of David.

He found him in a corner booth, obviously enjoying himself as it looked like his tongue was stuck halfway down some guy’s throat. Matthew unpeeled himself from the bar and once again fought his way through the dancing couples on the floor. He ran the gauntlet with his drink held high, and found himself at the table occupied by David and his partner. Matthew coughed loudly and David opened his eyes, looking up at him. For a moment there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes at seeing Matthew, but then he uncinched himself from his partner and stood up. He still looked pale and moved slowly as if he was still in pain, but overall he looked a lot better.