Stripped Bare (12 page)

They’d agreed on the use of the word “friend” for each other in public. Matthew had not been keen on using the word “boyfriend” as Shane suggested, saying it was too personal and too soon. He hadn’t liked “partner” either, saying that inferred a long-term relationship. As they were lovers in the physical sense of the word, Matthew hadn’t objected to using that one—in fact had seemed fairly proud of it.

Shane had gotten frustrated at the man’s anal tendency to have everything labelled properly. He’d sarcastically suggested “fuck-buddy” at which Matthew had scowled and shaken his head. Grudgingly Shane agreed ‘friend’ would have to do the trick. But privately he’d decided he’d use whatever word he liked to describe his relationship with Matthew if he was out of earshot. Starting with boyfriend. He’d never liked the word partner anyway. That was for business.

He sat down to check on the progress of his five million pound transfer and smiled in satisfaction. All on track. That sleazy Walter Debussy wouldn’t know what hit him on Monday morning when banking opened. And that little weasel Roy Parsons was in for a nasty surprise too, even sooner than that. Shane had managed to plant a computer virus on his mobile phone, one that would download gay porn from various websites and send the pictures out to people in his phone book. The man would have a lot of explaining to do. Shane knew he was taking a chance with the whole gay thing being the trigger, but he’d covered his tracks well. Neither Roy nor Walter knew about his online talents, so he figured he’d get away with it—for a while anyway. He snickered.

“You’re about to become a gay porn superstar, you little motherfucker. That will teach you to threaten me and my new boyfriend.”

Thinking about it made him extremely horny, so he thought he’d take a shower and perhaps alleviate some of his own stress in there. He put the lid down on Bushwhacker, gave him a soft, loving caress and made his way to the bathroom, whistling. Today hadn’t turned out so badly after all.

All hell breaks loose

Sunday morning Matthew sat gingerly at the breakfast table in Shane’s flat. He was dressed in a pair of sweats, his backside tender as Shane had pounded away at it most of the weekend. However, he’d promised Matthew that it was his turn next to have Shane’s. Matthew was looking forward to that. He watched as Shane moved around the kitchen making breakfast. The man appeared to be quite a good cook. Matthew wasn’t bad, but if he could get away with not doing it, he would.

Shane’s grey sweatpants hung loosely on his lean hips, the top of his arse just visible above the waistband. Matthew could have looked at it all day. He dragged his eyes away to find Shane’s eyes fixed on his.

“Finished looking at my arse now?” he teased. “I promise you it’s yours next time. I’ve been hogging yours enough, so I think it only fair.”

Matthew felt a thrill of excitement at the thought.

Shane carried two plates with very well-turned omelettes and two slices of toast to the table. He sat down and the two men started to tuck into breakfast.

Shane smiled at him. “I wanted to ask what happened to your nose. It has this crooked thing going on with it.”

Matthew shrugged. “I used to play hockey when I was at school. One of the guys lost control of his stick and whacked me across the nose with it. It was broken and they fixed it, but it was never the same.” He frowned. “Why, do you think it looks strange? My sister’s always telling me to have it fixed, but I’ve never really seen the need. She’s a model so looks to her are important.”

Shane shook his head. “It’s cute.”

Matthew scowled. That was a term he hadn’t been called often before. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

Shane grinned. “It gives you this air of being a reprobate. I like it. Tough and manly.” Matthew felt better at that remark.

The soft rich voice of Michael Bublé drifted through the kitchen as they ate. Matthew was quite a fan of the man’s music himself. It seemed that was another thing he and Shane had in common. He wondered if Shane had the same man-crush on Mr. Bublé that Matthew had, but that was one fantasy he wasn’t sharing.

“What made you want to become a hacker?” asked Matthew. “It’s not the usual thing a boy decides he wants to be when he grows up, is it?”

Shane shrugged. “I was a bit of a know-it-all at school, and I seemed to drift into computer science. One thing led to another and I found I had a real aptitude for being able to spot things in computer programming that other people couldn’t see. It became a bit of a passion. I studied it in my spare time, found a mentor online who taught me a lot, and it just grew from there.”

“What did your folks feel about that?” asked Matthew. “Did they understand what you were doing?”

Shane’s face darkened. “They just thought I was a geek. I don’t think my dad had any idea what I did. Then things fell apart when they found out I was gay.”

Matthew stared at him. He’d come out when he was fifteen to his mother and father and they’d been nothing but supportive. He’d had his share of troubles growing up but at least his family had understood.

“What happened?”

Shane shifted uncomfortably on the kitchen stool. “It wasn’t a case of talking about it, more showing…” His voice tailed off. “My dad walked in on me doing the next-door neighbour’s son. I had my dick up his arse at the time and like I said, my dad didn’t take it too well.” He gave a curt laugh. “Dad had an image to maintain with his fancy oil business and his money. It didn’t include a gay son.”

Matthew’s mouth dropped open. “God, that must have been awkward. What a way to find out.” His voice held a slight trace of amusement. Shane frowned.

“Yeah, well, he kicked me out of the house. Told me to pack my stuff and piss off along with some other choice phrases,” he said bitterly.

“And did you?” Matthew asked. “Piss off, I mean.”

Shane nodded. “I packed my bags, kissed my mom and left. I’ve never been back. I still see my mother though. We meet every now and then and Skype, do the whole birthday card and Mother’s Day thing but I won’t go back home. I don’t want to see my dad.” He looked down at the table. “I haven’t seen him since I was seventeen.”

“Seventeen? How the hell did you cope, leaving home so young? Where did you go?”

Shane looked evasive. “I had a place to stay in London for a while.”

Matthew looked at him. “You’re not telling me something, Shay. What are you holding back?”

Shane flushed. “God, you are so nosy. I told you. There’s not much more to tell. Can we drop the whole subject please?” He seemed annoyed at Matthew’s questioning. Matthew suddenly felt the penny drop and had to know the answer. “You said your dad had an oil business.”

Shane fidgeted, looking uneasy. Matthew thought he regretted saying anything at all about his family from the look on his face.

“Is your father Ray Templar, the oil mogul? Templar Oil and Gas?”

The younger man scowled. “Yes.”

For the umpteenth time since meeting this man. Matthew’s jaw dropped. Templar Oil and Gas were one of the foremost oil and gas companies in Britain, owning a string of wells all across the world.

“Christ, Shane, he’s a multimillionaire! And you have nothing more to do with him?”

Shane scowled. “No. I don’t. His choice, not mine. I haven’t spoken to him in eleven years, and I don’t intend ever doing so. So if you think I’m the meal ticket out of your lawyerly life, think again.” His whole easygoing demeanour had changed instantly with the talk of his father.

“That was uncalled for,” said Matthew, his temper rising. “I’m not here because I thought you had bloody money.”

Shane quirked an eyebrow at him. “No, you’re here because you like the look of my arse. And I don’t like talking about my father.”

Matthew leaned forward, still a little annoyed at Shane’s last comment. “But you still see your mother? Have you ever wondered whether your dad might regret what he said? Tried to contact him maybe?” Matthew had adored his own father and he couldn’t imagine never having had him in his life.

“No.” Shane said. “I haven’t wanted to talk to him. Can we leave this conversation alone now?” He stood up and walked over to the sink, his back taut with tension.

“Where did you go when you left home?” Matthew’s voice was quiet.

Perhaps leaving Shane’s father out of the conversation might get things back on track. Shane definitely had a bug up his arse about that subject.

Shane turned to look at him, his eyes distant. “I got on a train and went to London to find someone I thought might help. A man called Michael who I’d met when I went to a Gay Pride March when I was sixteen. He was a lot older than me but we hit it off, and he gave me his number and told me if I was ever in trouble to call. Mikey was happy to take me in, give me somewhere to stay while I got settled.”

Matthew looked into Shane’s blue eyes. “How much older than you was he?”

Shane looked at him, frost in his eyes. “What does that matter? And what the hell’s with the first degree anyway?”

Matthew stared at him. “Sorry. I just wondered that’s all. Making conversation, getting to know you.”

Shane messed about in the sink, his back to Matthew. Matthew kept quiet, not wanting to make things worse.

Shane spun around. “If I answer your questions do I get to ask some of my own to you?” His voice was challenging.

Matthew felt his face tighten. “It depends on the questions.”

Shane huffed, his eyes dark. “I thought that would be the answer.” He glared at Matthew but relented. “Mikey was eighteen years older than me. And before you ask, Mr. Nosy Parker, yes, we were lovers.”

Matthew was taken aback. “Hell, Shane, you were just seventeen years old. That seems a little opportunistic of him.”

Shane glared at him. “It was either that or live on the bloody streets, Matthew. I had plans to get some money but I needed a base of operations to work from so I could get the funding I needed. I’m sorry that relationship doesn’t fit in your neatly ordered and controlled world.” His tone was biting and Matthew’s temper flared again.

God, had he just found another tender spot from Shane’s past?

“Hell, Shay, you can be such a brat. I wasn’t judging you, more wondering about a man a lot older than you taking advantage of a young, lost teenager.” He felt irked at Shane’s comment about his “neat and orderly” world.

So he liked order in his life. Was that such a bad thing?

Shane raised a sardonic eyebrow. “I can assure you he didn’t take advantage of me, Matthew. In fact, it was the other way around. I seduced him into fucking me. I was a very persuasive brat.” His words were harsh as he stared at Matthew.

Matthew wondered in confusion how a few nights of sheer heaven could have turned into this ugly spat so soon. He’d obviously found Shane’s Achilles’ heel.

Shane watched his face. “Mikey had always had a soft spot for me. It was no hardship getting him to take me to bed. I knew then I’d at least have a place to stay until I sorted out my money situation.” He snorted explosively. “And please don’t tell me like others have that I had ‘daddy’ issues. I can assure you there was nothing ‘daddy-like’ about the things Mikey and I used to get up to.”

Matthew stood up and took his plate over to the sink. He turned to face Shane, whose face was set. “I’m going to shower.” Matthew said. “It looks like we’ve touched on a couple of subjects you don’t want to talk about, so it’s best that I disappear now before I put my foot in it anymore. Let you simmer down a little. Thanks for breakfast.”

As he headed toward the bedroom he heard Shane clattering the plates again in the sink. He went to the en-suite and started the shower. Matthew’s stomach was clenched tight, and he had an ache in his chest that the warm water did nothing to diminish.

God, the man was infuriating. He was usually so easygoing, but it looked like he had his own demons just like anyone else.

Matthew liked being with Shane, but if this was what he had to look forward to, he wasn’t so sure he wanted it anymore. Things could get very complicated. Fifteen minutes later he was clean, dressed, and ready to go home. He picked up his jacket from the bed, his wallet from the bedside table and left the bedroom. He found Shane standing gazing out at the river, his eyes fixed on some point beyond the horizon.

Hell, the man still did things to him even though he was a complete pain in the arse. He was simply the sexiest man Matthew had ever seen.

“I’m going now,” Matthew said as Shane continued to stare out the window. “I’m sorry if I touched a nerve asking the things I did. I was trying to get to know you a little better. Call me if you want to talk or anything any time soon.”

He took a deep breath and left the flat.

Shane heard the front door close and he leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He closed his eyes in despair.

Shane Templar, you can be such an idiot. One mention of your dickhead father and Mikey and you’re all neurotic and growly. You should have just told him to stay away from the topic. But no, you felt you needed to share. You just want to please that bloody man, don’t you?

He moved away from the window, making his way to the shower. He could still smell Matthew in his bedroom, the scent of his body and his maleness on his bed sheets. Shane sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands.

You are such a prick, Templar. At least the man left you an out to call him, surprisingly enough seeing as how we’re talking about Matthew Langer. Beautiful man but oh, so bloody reserved and controlled. You’re bloody lucky he didn’t just say goodbye now and get you out of his life, given that he wants uncomplicated.

Shane heaved a great sigh as he stood up to shower. Perhaps after he’d washed and dressed, had another cup of coffee and spent some time on Bushwhacker, he’d have his head straight and he’d give Matthew a call. Explain a little more about why he hated talking about his father and the memories it invoked. And the thing with Mikey that had been so complicated.

Mikey had been the first man to really break his heart.

Shane managed to last until after lunch before making the phone call to Matthew. He’d considering texting him but he needed to hear his voice.