Read The Glass Knot-mmf Online

Authors: Lily Harlem

Tags: #mm, #gay, #menage, #mmf, #TABLET

The Glass Knot-mmf (4 page)

BOOK: The Glass Knot-mmf
4.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“No
absolutely.”

“It
only takes him a couple of hours a day, though, and it suits me to go for a
swim and laze in the sun reading. If he doesn’t do it he only worries and gets
crabby.”

“I
understand what that’s like. When I have an assignment I like to just get on
with it.”

“What
is it you do exactly?”

“I’m
a freelance photographer.” I nodded at the camera by my side. “Sometimes I work
to a specific request my agent has negotiated, other times I just snap away and
sell what looks good.”

“Wow,
that’s a pretty impressive way to earn a living.”

“Yes,
it’s fun, but to be honest I could do with selling a few more pictures. Though
if I don’t, it wouldn’t stop me being a photographer. I love what I do. Capturing
an image, a moment in time, it makes me feel like I’m a documenter of history.”

He
grinned, flashing neat white teeth and sending small lines darting from the
sides of his eyes. “So what are your favorite types of shots?”

I
thought for a second. “Hard to say. I like taking ones like I have been today.
On a beach, everyone having fun, great light to play with, not much to tell you
what decade it is except for the style of beachwear. Then other times I like to
really concentrate on the detail, close ups, nature particularly, flowers,
bugs, cobwebs on a frosty morning, that sort of thing.”

“Nice.”
He took a sip of his beer. When he took the rim of the bottle from his lips
they were coated with moisture. A small dot of white froth sat in the central
bow of his top lip.

“You
ever do portraits?” he asked, apparently oblivious of my intense scrutiny of
his mouth, and luckily none the wiser to the fact that I was imagining what it
would be like to
be
that speck of beer froth.

“Er,
yes, I have in the past. It usually pays well, and if the subject is…” I
paused, searching for the right words as I kicked my brain into gear again. On
the tip of my tongue was a comment about being physically perfect and how that
made portrait work so much easier, but I couldn’t say that without blushing, for
surely Josh knew how physically perfect he was. Surely he was aware he was
having an effect on me despite the fact he’d been honest in telling me not only
was he gay but also married.

He
licked his top lip and tipped his head, as if urging me to go on.

I
sighed, and once again quashed that sludgy feeling of regret. “If the portrait subject
is relaxed it makes it so much easier,” I said. “Plus if they have an idea what
kind of mood they’re going for in the final shot it helps to get us both on the
same wavelength.”

Josh
smiled, nodded, then glanced over at Nick. “Looks like he’s finished. I’d best
go and get him a drink.”

He
stood and once again, I let my gaze travel down his body. He was honed and
toned in all the right places. His swim shorts were fitted and I could make out
an impressive bulge behind them; long and thick and dressed to the left.

Taking
another sip of my drink, I willed myself not to stare.

It
was impossible not to.

What
a waste.

“Would
you like to join us for dinner tonight, Laura? I guess you’re eating alone.”

A
wave of surprise washed through me, and I looked back up at his face. “Dinner?”

He
grinned. “Yeah. I’d love to hear more about your work and I’m sure Nick would
too.”

“Well…er…”

“We
have a reservation at the top floor restaurant at eight. I could easily call
and change it to a table for three.”

“Well,
if you’re sure. I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“You
won’t be intruding. We’d love your company.”

Chapter Two

 

I
stepped into the lift and hit the button for the top floor. I was a couple of
minutes late, but only because I’d had a crisis over which shoes to wear with
my white linen dress. Flat sandals to keep the look beachy and relaxed, or
coffee-colored stilettoes to match the collection of wooden bangles I’d put on
my right wrist. In the end I opted for heels. The Terrace Restaurant, according
to the hotel information pack in my room, was “an elegant eatery”.

Stepping
into the busy restaurant, I glanced around for Josh’s tall frame. I couldn’t
see him or Nick at any of the tables. I hoped they hadn’t had a change of plan.
After looking forward to the evening for the last few hours it would be a
horrible let down to find myself eating alone, again.

The
maître d’ approached. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“Yes,
I’m joining friends for dinner. I think their table will be under the name
Kendal.”

“Ah,
yes, the Kendal’s have opted for the balcony, the evening is so beautiful.” He
smiled and reached for a black, leather-bound menu. “This way please, señorita.”

I
followed, my heels clacking gently on the floor tiles as I maneuvered around other
diners. There was a low hum of conversation and the air was full of aromatic
scents; lime and pepper, cilantro and chili.

Stepping
through large open glass doors, I breathed in deep. This high up, on the top
floor, there was a hint of a breeze and the salty air held a perfect stroke of
coolness as it brushed over my bare shoulders.

A
grand piano, shiny and white, sat at the end of a small wooden dance floor. It
was headed by a man in a bow tie and sharp black suit. Tinkling notes floated
toward me, and he looked up and smiled as the maître d’ led me past.

Around
the dance floor people talked and ate at candlelit tables. The glass balcony
showcased the twinkling lights of Marbella below and accentuated the dense
blackness of the sea beyond. The mood was relaxed but stylish, tranquil but
sophisticated, and a warm glow of appreciation for the delightful setting
washed through me.

“Ah,
there you are, Laura.”

I
heard Josh’s deep voice before I saw him. I’d been too immersed in the
spectacular view. Drawing my attention back, I saw him drop a white linen
napkin onto the table and stand. He was wearing dark jeans and a red and black
striped short-sleeved shirt that hugged his biceps deliciously.

“Hi,”
I said with a shy smile.

His
handsome face and delectable body had my stomach flipping, not least because I
knew what lay underneath his clothes. Well, what lay beneath most of them
anyway.

The
maître d’ pulled out the third chair at the table and Josh leaned in and placed
a light kiss on my cheek as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.
Trouble was, not only did he look amazing, he smelled divine too; citrusy and
fresh but with an undercurrent of pure maleness. I couldn’t help but breathe in
deep and allow the smell to settle in my nostrils. Unfortunately, what I hadn’t
foreseen was that the scent would spread throughout my body; my nipples tingled
and warmth settled in my pussy, a hungry heat that I knew my Rampant Rocker
would have to attend to later.

“You
look lovely,” he said, scanning my dress, right down to my painted pink
toenails.

“Thank
you.” I smiled and turned to Nick.

He
stood and his dark gaze settled on mine. The way his eyebrows hung low and his
jaw was set made him look deadly serious despite his polite smile.

“Laura,”
he said, reaching for my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Josh told me he’d
arranged company this evening, but he neglected to tell me just how exquisitely
beautiful you were.”

A
rise of heat spread over my cheeks as he brought my knuckles to his mouth and
pressed a soft kiss over them.

“I,
um, thanks,” I managed, withdrawing my hand and sitting.

The
men sat and I smoothed the napkin a waiter floated onto my lap. Josh poured me a
glass of wine and I took an offered menu.

“We’ve
just ordered,” Nick said, “but we asked them to hold preparation until you
arrived. Josh wanted hake and I was anxious that they wouldn’t run out.”

“Oh,
that’s sensible,” I said, turning my attention to the menu but not really
reading it. Although clearly a little older, Nick was every bit as beautiful as
Josh close up, but in a very different way. He was darker in his coloring but
also, I suspected, in his thoughts. It was the way he was looking at me, with
an almost predatory glint in his eyes. But I didn’t think I was the hunted, he
was just protecting what was his; Josh.

Concentrate,
Laura, and stop making assumptions. You don’t know anything about these guys.

I
pulled in a deep breath and was relieved to feel the heat ebb from my cheeks.

“I’ve
opted for steak tonight,” Nick said. “Josh had a wonderful sirloin last night
and I couldn’t stop thinking about it this afternoon.”

“I
love steak,” I said. “I think I’ll join you.”

Josh
nodded to the hovering waiter who wrote down my order and slipped away.

I
took a sip of wine. It was light and fruity with a slight melon fragrance. It
was just what I needed.

“So,
Laura,” Nick said. “Josh tells me he caught you taking photographs of him on
the beach this afternoon.”

“Well,
I, not just him. I was taking pictures of everyone, it’s my job. Capturing scenes
and atmospheres—”

Josh
laughed. “Take no notice, he’s winding you up. I told him you were a
photographer and not just filling up a scrap book of guys in swim shorts.”

“Oh.”
I knocked back another gulp of wine and tried to rid the image of a near naked
Josh walking toward me. But it had been one of the most beautiful sights I’d
seen in a long time and didn’t flee my mind easily.

“Though
of course, Josh, you’re an excellent subject,” Nick said with a smile that
created a single dimple in his left cheek. “I wouldn’t blame Laura one bit for stealing
photographs of you when you’re practically naked.”

Josh
shot him a look I didn’t understand. He tightened his lips into a straight line
and his jaw tensed.

“Josh
told me you’re an architect, Nick,” I said, eager to move the subject on, “I
should think that keeps you very busy.”

“It
does, but it pays the bills at the same time as doing something I love so I
have no complaints.”

“Are
you a domestic architect or have you branched out?”

“I
do some private homes, usually top end and very high spec. But I’ve also done
renovation work with the Heritage Society, remodeling abandoned chapels and
barns, making something of them again.”

“Wow,
that sounds interesting. I’d love to see some of your work. Photograph it
even.”

“That
would be great,” Nick said. “I think it would appeal to you, you’re obviously
very visual.” He paused and glanced at Josh then back to me. “I mean by the
nature of your work as a photographer, you clearly use your sense of sight to a
very heightened state, and I’ve gone to great pains to make my renovations
visually appealing as well as accurate for their period.”

I
glanced at the object of my latest ocular fascination, who twirled his wine
around his glass before taking a sip.

“Yes,
I am very visual,” I said. “And what about you, Josh? Are you a kept man?”

He
laughed and placed his wine down. “I wish.”

I
raised my eyebrows, urged him to go on.

“We,
Nick and I, bought a cottage in the Cotswolds several years ago in a village
which is home to the county’s main fire-station. I’d always wanted to join the
fire service and Nick encouraged me to do it.”

“You’re
a fireman?”

“Yep,
working my way up the ranks.”

Blow
me down. How unfair could life be? It was as if God knew firemen ignited every
lusty thought in my brain and had gone and presented me with a gorgeous,
married, gay fireman to torment the hell out of me.

What
on earth have I done to deserve this?

“That’s
er…lovely,” I managed.

“Well,
I don’t know about lovely. We’re only five miles from the main motorway through
the middle of England so we get called to some nasty car wrecks, especially in
the winter.”

“Oh,
that’s not nice.”

“No
it’s not,” Nick said with a shake of his head. “It makes for some pretty grim
working conditions and sights that can’t easily be forgotten.”

Josh
threw his gaze out to sea, and I wondered what horror he was pushing from his
mind.

“We
have to deal with a lot of chimney and thatch fires too,” he said, turning back
to the table. “And in the summer, if it’s dry, then there are field fires to
sort out. But we also spend a lot of time on education, going to schools,
promoting smoke alarms, that sort of thing. Talking to the public is a big part
of the job now.”

“Yes,
of course.” I imagined him in a dark fireman uniform. All buff and strong with
that flopping surfer-dude hair. Big boots, worn trousers and a sweat-laced top,
maybe a streak of soot on the smooth skin of his tanned cheek.

BOOK: The Glass Knot-mmf
4.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Sky Saw by Butler, Blake
The Dead Girls' Dance by Rachel Caine
The Art of Lying Down by Bernd Brunner
RufflingThePeacocksFeathers by Charlie Richards
Amuse Bouche by Anthony Bidulka
Shadows of New York by Heather Fraser Brainerd