Waiting for Rain (3 page)

“Simon? Come in. I didn’t expect to see you.” I stood awkwardly, not really knowing how to handle these new emotions surging through my being.

Christ, what the fuck is wrong with me? I must be really bloody desperate.

He smiled and walked into my room. “Obviously. I’m sorry to interrupt what you were doing.” He raised an eyebrow at me, and I felt like a small boy who’d been caught masturbating in his bed. This man had that effect on me.

“Uhm, I’ll just get a tee shirt on—”

He waved an airy hand. “Don’t bother, Toby. It’s your time off. You don’t have to stand on ceremony for me.” He plonked himself down in my easy chair, leaving me to hastily drag on a shirt out of respect, then sit down on the bed. I noticed a slightly crestfallen look in his eyes as I did so.

Christ, did he just look disappointed I got dressed? Crap. I
must
be seeing things.
At least that’s what I wanted to believe. The fact I was finding my boss attractive was really starting to scare me. I hadn’t felt this before in our years together.

He spoke gently. “I wanted to check on you. That bloody woman downstairs was being a real pain, and I could see you were getting riled. Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I’m fine, Simon. I shouldn’t have let it get to me. I thought I was beyond all that shit.”

“One is never beyond ‘all that shit,’ Toby. That horrible woman was testing even my patience.” He smiled like a shark about to bite a surfer’s leg off for fun. “But I think I managed to placate her. She got a free stay here, an invitation to the Butterfly Dining Room for dinner, and a few choice phrases from me from the Bible about suffering one’s unfortunate fellow man to live.” He grinned, his face looking younger. “I find that always helps when dealing with people like her, however distasteful it is pandering to their whims. It’s the nature of the beast we find ourselves with, unfortunately.” He leaned back comfortably and observed me.

“So, you’re okay then? I can’t have my right-hand man in a state about homophobic comments made by a stupid, ignorant woman.”

Warmth surged through my chest at his words about being his right-hand man. Or perhaps it was the phrase “right hand” which brought visions of his hand around my cock as he jerked me off. I tried to focus.

“Yes, Simon. I honestly should be used to it by now—”

He stood up and leaned over me, placing his hand on my shoulder again. I could smell his aftershave, the aroma of sweat on his body, and the masculine scent of him. My cock stirred again, and I swallowed. “Never say that, Toby. You should never have to get used to things like that being said. I know I hide who I am, but you know I have my reasons.” His voice was a growl, and I looked at him in surprise. He removed his hand, sliding his fingertips along my shoulder as he did so.

“You know my views. My private life is my own, Toby. I don’t like hiding, but this hotel is my life. I want nothing to prejudice that. And if that means concealing certain things about me, so be it.” He sighed ruefully. “As you know, there are quite a few councilmen in the local municipality who would make my life a misery if they knew. And I need to keep them on the right side for the sake of this business and everyone who’s employed here.”

Simon had been out and about with various women over the years, some young, some closer to his age. He made quite a splash in the local papers whenever he squired anyone new. Some of the stories we’d shared in the bar about both his male and lady friends were downright lascivious. I could understand why he chose to hide who he was, but I couldn’t come to terms with it. I was out and proud of it. It had caused problems for me in the past when I’d first moved here. But I’d managed to resolve those issues with the people concerned, some of them through a good fight outside the hotel grounds. But then I didn’t own a business and have employees who depended on me for their livelihood.

He chuckled. “Sorry. She’s got me wound up now too. But you are what you are. Never apologize for it.”

I nodded. I was definitely feeling a little out of my depth. Simon had taken me in four years ago when I’d been fired from a job in a hotel in Lincoln for smacking my boss. The boss had been a lecherous fool, and I’d fought back. At my interview, Simon had listened to my story, nodded sagely, and employed me on the spot. I’d been flabbergasted. He’d smiled and said it wasn’t the first time Landon Murphy had been caught harassing his staff. He’d
believed
in me. Now that same man sat in front of me, and I felt disrespectful thinking about him sexually. It seemed… dirty.

“Well, I’d better get off.” He turned to me. I didn’t want to stand up because my nether regions were in no condition to be seen. Looking around for something to cover my traitorous groin—a Roman shield, a dustbin lid—I settled for a cushion and fondled it nervously.

“Thanks for coming by. That was very kind of you.” I stood up, holding the cushion in front. If he noticed my discomfort, he ignored it like the gentleman he was. He looked as if he were about to say something, then changed his mind. He nodded as he made his way to the door. “No problem. I’m very fond of you, Toby. You do a great job for me here, and I want you to be happy.”

I walked over to the door behind him, heaving a sigh of relief. He was about to open the door when he turned suddenly. His move made him stand very close to me, our fronts almost touching. I could smell his scent and feel the heat of his body. He smelled like warm man and something spicy. I swallowed in horror as my cock grew harder.

Dear Jesus, this couldn’t be happening. This was Simon, for fuck’s sake!

His gray eyes bored into mine, and I felt slightly faint at their intensity. Something was happening here. The man was simply exuding sexual tension in my direction.

“You are happy here, aren’t you?” he asked softly. “At this hotel, with me?”

I swallowed again. “Yes, Simon. I’m happy. You gave me a chance here when no one else would, and I’ll always appreciate that.” I held the cushion tightly in front so he didn’t notice the tenting of my sweatpants and the slight wet patch on the front.

What kind of sicko was I that I was getting the hots for a forty-year-old man who was my boss and who I’d known for years?

“Appreciation,” he murmured. “Hmm.” He sounded disappointed. “I had rather hoped—”

I had no idea what he was going to say because there was another knock on the door. He opened it. Alan stood there with my sandwich. The look on his face at finding the two of us in my small room together was nothing short of gob-stopping. His face went beet red as he looked at my relaxed state of dress, the cushion I held, my sweats hanging low on my hips with a slight sight of belly and hair, and the fact I had a man in my room, behind closed doors, the hotel owner no less.

“Alan, my boy. Give me Toby’s dinner before you drop it.” Simon chuckled wickedly. He took the plate, looked down at the sandwich and sniffed, then looked at me. I was still standing there, trying hard to fight the heat in my groin.

He tsked as he passed the plate on to me. “Toby, you really need to eat properly. This isn’t a meal. Honestly, you youngsters think anything between two slices of bread is sufficient to keep you nourished. Alan, my boy, stop looking at me as if I’ve grown another head. This is purely an innocent visit, I can assure you, and I’ll count on you to keep it as such or else.” His threatening tone left no room for doubt as to what the “or else” might be. Death might be preferable.

Alan nodded. “Of course, sir. I didn’t think anything else, I promise.” His panicked eyes found mine, and I tried to smile reassuringly.

I’d certainly grown another head, was still growing in fact.

I held the plate in one hand, the cushion in the other. The hand with the plate was shaking slightly, and I saw the sandwich slide down the plate, as if wanting to escape. I cursed silently, willing it to stay captive.

“Well, let’s be off, young man, and leave Toby to enjoy his nutritional meal in peace.” Simon clapped Alan on the back, holding his shoulder tightly as they walked down the softly lit corridor. Alan winced. Simon waved a hand in my direction. “Toby, thanks for the chat. I’m glad you’re okay. We’ll chat more later. I have something I need to speak to you about.” I nodded dumbly.

He turned as if remembering something. “By the way, there’s a team coming in tomorrow to start building the Canterbury Bar. I took the quote from that carpenter who lives outside of town. He seems like a nice enough chap, and his price was reasonable. So he’ll be moving his equipment and team in tomorrow morning.”

I nodded feebly, managing to squeak out, “Sure, Simon. Thanks for letting me know and for stopping by.” After closing the door, I set the plate and the cushion down on the bed and took a few deep breaths to try and center myself. I looked down at my hardened cock and gave it a light slap. It felt really good, despite it supposedly being a punishment.

“What the fuck was all that about?” I asked. “Are we that far down the abstinence line that I get turned on by my boss? God, the way he was looking at me. I had no idea….” My voice rose to a slight yowl. “Christ, what if he bloody saw it? What the hell then?”

I was hyperventilating by this time, deciding a cold shower would probably be torment enough for us both. I stalked into the small bathroom with its shower, turning the nozzle full on to cold. Dropping my clothes, I stepped in, yelping as the cold water hit my skin. But it did no good. My cock still stood rampant and needy. I took hold of myself and stroked it gently, from root to tip, closing my eyes, trying not to think of Simon. Instead I thought of the brawny men I’d watched on the television. Before long, I was spurting all over the shower wall with a chest that heaved with the intensity of my climax. I moaned loudly, leaning my forehead against the tiles, my hand still clasped around my semiflaccid member. I closed my eyes.

What in hell’s name had that all been about? Christ, I really needed to get laid.

Chapter 2

Rain

“M
OTHERFUCKER
!” I
snarled as I hit my thumb for the second time. I sucked the swollen digit, tasting blood. My business partner and straight best friend, Lucas Wright, chuckled. He was a broad, short man, with shoulder-length blond hair and hands the size of hams. My dog, a black Labrador called Sheba, looked at me in disdain. She was used to my bad language when I was working in my barn. The current job was making an ornate bookcase for an elderly spinster’s “library,” a small, dingy room with wall-to-wall books on the floor.

“Rain, your mind is not on your game today, mate.” His soft West Country burr echoed in my ears. “Best you give it a miss for a while. We need to get off down to town anyway, to the Duck and Drake. That bar is going to be a bitch to build. That Simon guy is an absolute stickler for detail.”

I nodded. “He definitely knows what he wants. I had to draw that damned bar half a dozen times before he decided which design he liked. I have to say he has good taste. It’s the one I would have said fits the space the best, and the hotel. Cherrywood will look great in that room.”

I winced, putting down the hammer I’d been using to maul my thumb. Lucas looked at me, and I sighed. “Lucas, I’m fine. My mind is just a little off, that’s all.”

“Rain, getting a postcard from your ex-lover in Monte Carlo saying, ‘Wish you were here, having a great fucking time’ is enough to put anyone off their stride. Especially because we know Tommy is probably definitely having a great ‘
fucking
’ time—”

I growled. “Enough, already. Yes, he’s an arsehole, and yes, I’m better off without him, but I’d rather not talk about it if you don’t mind.”

I stretched, feeling the muscles in my back pull straight, my legs giving a scream of protest. Rivulets of sweat ran down my naked chest. It was warm in the barn, and I worked shirtless when I could.

“Let me go wash up and make myself more presentable. Then we can get into town. I’m looking forward to working on this bar.” I had a passion for creating beautiful things out of wood, and I was good at it. What was it my fellow countryman, Gary Player, had said? “The harder I practice, the luckier I get.” I liked the man’s style.

Picking up my shirt, I walked out of the workshop. Sheba stood up and padded after me. The sun shone, the air smelling of fresh grass. I reached my cottage a few feet away and went into the bedroom. I picked up a fresh denim shirt from the pile in the corner and sniffed at my armpits then snorted in sheer disgust. I sprayed some deodorant all over me, paying special attention to under my arms, then shrugged into the shirt. It felt very tight. I’d been doing a lot of work lately outdoors, shifting wood, using my arms and shoulders, and I’d definitely picked up some muscle. Well, that was tough. My dirty laundry basket was overflowing, so this would have to do.

Most of the tools and gear we needed to work were already packed in Lucas’s Citroen relay van, and the real heavy-duty stuff would arrive by truck tomorrow. I was already looking forward to unpacking those slabs of beautifully crafted cherrywood.

I fed Sheba, scratched her between the ears, and we made our way to town. Known as the “stone town” due to its wealth of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century stone buildings, Stamford was an idyllic place to live with its green fields and waterways, and I was glad I’d made the move here. And the month of June was one of my favorite months. Warmish, without being too hot. But the farmers were already complaining about the lack of precipitation to grow their crops of rape and wheat. It was all a person heard about when you went into the pub for a pint.

We finally parked in the Duck and Drake’s parking lot, close to the service entrance at the back. I jumped down from the van and made my way into the cool, dimly lit lobby of the hotel. It was like something out of a film set. All wood and fancy old-fashioned lighting, with one of the most elegant staircases I’d ever seen spiraling up on the right to the second floor. It was classic old English at its best. The best thing about it was the smell—wood and that vague hint of spice in the air. I walked over to the reception desk and smiled at the young lady sitting behind it. Her name badge said Tammy. She was a pretty young thing, her hair all dark brown and shiny, with a great set of boobs. I grinned slightly as I noticed Lucas’s sudden interest. He was like a pointer dog, all ready and alert at the thought there might be a pheasant in the bushes.