Chapter Sixteen

NATE

I hadn't seen Charlie since I'd told him where to go. On Saturday evening, he put his head around my bedroom door when I was changing for yet another party the Fortescues were hosting.

He whistled. "Looking sharp, Mort."

I wouldn't go that far. The dress code was semi-formal, so I'd chosen a black suit with a white shirt that I'd left open at the neck. The casual style of the shirt removed the need for cufflinks. I hoped that was formal enough to please the Fortescues and informal enough not to make the Teagues feel awkward.

"You're not coming?" I asked, taking in what he was wearing. His black jeans were eye-wateringly tight, and a cut-off purple tank top strained across his chest.

"God, no. You up for some fun?"

It was as if our previous conversation hadn't happened. "Your parents invited me tonight, and as I'm their guest—"

"You're thirty, not sixty. Get out and have some fun again." He sashayed over to me, a move I'd seen him use to devastate whole ranks of guys at a club. I'd loved it back then because he'd always gone home with me. Or so I'd thought. "Come on, Nate," he coaxed, fixing my collar and brushing back my hair. "It'll be like it used to be—just you and me."

I stepped away. "Sorry, Charlie. I told your parents I'd be there." I couldn't risk putting James offside in case he evicted me. And, with a sense of shock, I realised I didn't want a night of clubbing. For the first time in my life, it sounded boring. I'd rather be drinking coffee and watching the way Alex's eyes glinted with humour as he shared yet more outrageous facts that he'd dug out of the depths of the internet.

"Suit yourself." Charlie's face closed down, and he turned on his heel and left.

It was an effort not to go after him, to call his name and try to placate him. That made me realise what an ingrained habit it had been.

I turned back to the mirror and rearranged my collar and hair to how they had looked before Charlie started fiddling. James Fortescue had made a point of inviting me personally to this evening's event, and I didn't know why. I had to be on my guard.

ALEX

It was only five minutes' walk from the Fortescues' to the Assembly Rooms, and it would have been half that if most of the women hadn't been wearing high heels. The outside of the building looked like a small but beautiful Greek temple. Inside was even more impressive, and I realised why they'd gone to so much trouble dressing up. The place looked like it was a film set for a Jane Austen adaptation, with chandeliers, columns and a balcony.

The whole thing was formal as hell, and I ran my finger around the inside of my collar. Wearing a tie always felt like I was being strangled, but I was glad I'd worn one tonight—at least I wouldn't look completely out of place. Looking out of place hadn't bothered me up until now. It was the possibility of Nate thinking I was a country bumpkin that was eating at me.

A silver tray with champagne flutes appeared under my nose. A tired-looking woman whose name badge proclaimed her to be Denise was offering them determinedly enough to suggest she'd been trying to get my attention for a while. I gave her an apologetic smile as I took a glass. At this rate, I wouldn't want to drink anything but the finest fizz in future.

I made the rounds, chatting to people. The whole time, I was looking for one person. When I saw him, I stopped dead, unable to breathe. He looked—God, he looked like he should be on a red carpet somewhere, as if stylists and make-up artists had spent hours creating the perfect man. His suit was elegant and sexy, and it fitted as though it had been made for him, emphasising everything I loved about his body—his height, his broad shoulders and strong thighs.

He was talking to James and Anna Fortescue, and as I watched, he laughed, his hair gleaming in the light thrown by multiple chandeliers, the brown column of his throat framed by his open shirt collar. One hand was carelessly in his trouser pocket, showing the watch on his wrist.

I must have moved, because he turned to look in my direction. When he saw me, the laughter fled from his face, and I could feelthe heat rise from across the room. His eyes grew dark, and he licked his lips. Evidently, he found no fault with what I was wearing. I had to turn away because my cock was already reacting to him.

He found me a few minutes later, and even through layers of clothes, I swore I could feel the heat of his hand in the small of my back. "The Fortescues want me to sit with them at supper. They're watching me for some reason, so it's better if I don't spend much time with you tonight. I don't want to draw their attention to you."

And I didn't want to spend the rest of the evening with a raging hard-on, so that suited me. Kind of. "See you later?"

"You'd better," he said, and the intensity in his eyes blew me away.

I'd half-expected waltzing and fox-trotting and whatever else rich people did in Jane Austen-like settings, but it wasn't as bad as that. The band had guitars and a synth rather than violins and cellos. Dan was dancing with a redhead who I assumed was Rose, given how close together they were and how they kept smiling at one another.

Not having Nate by my side gave me the opportunity to think about other things. I'd been enjoying his company so much I'd forgotten about my investigation. It was time I picked it up again.

After supper, I girded my loins and approached Steven. He was standing in the doorway, holding a glass and watching the rest of us with an expression close to a sneer.

I didn't offer my hand. I had the distinct impression he wouldn't take it. "Alex Teague," I said. "Your family's being extremely hospitable to us."

"That's my father's doing." He drained his glass.

"We appreciate it. I'm sure we'll return the favour, though all we'll have to show you are tin mines and places of Arthurian legend."

"Legend's right. No one in their right mind believes Arthur was a historical figure," he said, and I didn't miss the way his eyes cut to his father. Interesting.

"Apart from the fact our family tree goes straight back to Arthur."

He returned his attention to me, his scorn deepening. "I expect your family tree goes straight up, as well."

Don't punch your host, Alex. Margaret wouldn't like it.

"So why aren't you called Pendragon? Or charging around the countryside claiming the throne of Britain and waving long-lost swords?"

Yup, that family definitely read too much Tolkien. "The name Teague is a reference to Guinevere."

A flicker of interest crossed his face.

"Teague means fair," I told him. "As for claiming the throne—don't you know the legend? At Albion's hour of greatest peril, Arthur, or his kin, will return."

I had his full attention now. "Do you really believe that shit?"

That bit, probably not. The descent from Arthur? "Yes."

He chewed his lip. Leaving aside the bulk of his body, he looked like Charlie, had someone taken away the vivacity and changed the proportions of his face just enough to remove all suggestion of beauty.

"Does anyone outside your family believe it?" he asked.

"You'd better ask them. They'd be too polite to tell me if they didn't."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and left.

The evening dragged by. I stayed far, far away from any Fortescue dragons. I didn't want any of them to think I was interested. There was only one dragon I was interested in.

As I was about to text Nate to ask where the hell he was, Steven loomed in front of me.

"Is Margaret Teague a direct descendant?" he demanded.

Well, hello to you, too. "Yes."

"Who's in line after her?"

"My father, then me," I told him.

His eyes narrowed. "You? And then who? You're gay."

"Bi people do exist, you know." I wasn't among their number, but I wanted to see where he was going with this.

His eyes ran up and down me, cataloguing until I felt like a side of beef at a butcher's shop, being inspected by a particularly picky cook. "But you haven't been looking for a partner. You and Nate were snogging. Are you—"

"You know that old saying about having to kiss a few frogs before you find your prince." He frowned. "Or princess," I added hurriedly.

"Hmmn."And he was gone again.

If he'd been thinking what I thought he had, I would have to be careful to avoid Ella.

She'd danced with some of my family but had looked sulky the entire evening. I felt sorry for her as I watched her leave, trailing behind her parents. If my suspicions were correct that she was expected to marry one of us so she could produce a child or two, she was probably under a hell of a lot of pressure from her father—and now, perhaps, her brother. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.

My sympathy lasted as long as it took them to disappear, and then I forgot everything except searching for Nate. I found him in the entrance hall, taking deep breaths of the cold night air that swirled through the door as people left. I was intrigued to see Dan and Rose weren't the only Teague-Fortescue couple in a hurry to leave together. Perhaps familiarity was overcoming some of the prejudices on both sides.

"Hey." I bumped his shoulder with mine.

When he turned to face me, an unfamiliar crease between his brows smoothed out and my breath caught at the beauty of his smile. I wanted it to be directed at me for, well, forever.

His gaze flickered over my face and landed on my mouth, his eyes growing dark.

It wouldn't have won any awards for a graceful, romantic kiss—we both lunged forward at the same time, resulting in squashed lips and clacking teeth for an instant before we got it together. I made an embarrassing sound deep in my throat as Nate's mouth opened under mine, and I tasted him again. It had only been a day, but God, I'd missed this.

I was fighting my way under his clothes—why was he wearing so many?— before sanity prevailed. Standing in the hallway wasn't the place to do any of the things I wanted to.

I stepped back from him, looking around for somewhere private. The only place in sight was the cloakroom. Circling my hand around his wrist, I tugged him after me. Not much tugging was required—he came willingly.

As we got there, Denise emerged through the doorway. "Oh, do you want your—" She ground to a halt, her gaze moving over us. "Never mind," she said. "I'm just going to be somewhere else for a while."

Nate looked mortified, but I'd never been one to turn down an opportunity. "Cheers, Denise," I said, pulling him into the cloakroom and closing the door behind us.

In the privacy of the small cloakroom, I took a moment to drink in the sight of him in that suit. When I first met Nate, I'd seen he was sexy. The better I knew him, the hotter he became. Maybe because I'd learned to read the expressions in his eyes, or because I knew how he tasted, how he kissed. While I was still staring at him like a stunned mullet, he took my face in his hands and kissed me. I swear to God, it was like falling into the sun. His entire focus was on me, and I melted in the heat and power of his kiss.

One of my hands was in his hair, keeping his mouth on mine. I worked the other under his waistband to cup his arse, and he shuddered against me.

He eventually drew back. "Alex." He leaned in again and kissed my jaw, working up to my ear, every soft touch of his lips, every little lick of his tongue, every warm puff of breath against my skin turning me on.

He pulled back again. "This might sound unbelievably sleazy, but do you want to get a hotel room? We could have the entire night there."

At my surprised gape, he dropped his gaze, and his lips twisted. "Sorry—" he started

"You're a genius, Nate Mortimer," I informed him, punctuating my assertion with a kiss. Such a solution to our problem would never have occurred to me. I kept it to one quick kiss. However badly I wanted in his pants, I'd prefer to wait until we had privacy and a bed and didn't have to worry about Margaret finding suspicious stains on her coat.

NATE

Alex yet again showed his brilliance, this time by asking as we left the Assembly Rooms if I had any supplies. I had only the emergency condom and sachet of lube I kept in my wallet, so we diverted briefly to the closest open-all-hours pharmacy.

That provided time to think, and as I steered us back to the nearest tolerable hotel, I pre-empted any concerns Alex might have had. "I'm relieved Bim's bankrolling my stay. This place has gone up-market since I was last in Bath."

Alex bit his lip. I winced internally, worried that he realised what I was doing and thought I was patronising him. I'd assumed that—without a steady job—he didn't have a lot of money, and I made a decent living in London, as well as having my inheritance from Uncle Thaddeus and my parents. The only reason I lived in such a cramped flat was because I preferred to spend my spare money amassing treasure. My priorities were undoubtedly incomprehensible to humans, but they pleased the dragon in me.

"If Bim's bankrolling us, I guess we can get a room with a jacuzzi," he said. "Though I'm not sure how you're going to explain that on expenses."

His humour sounded a little forced, I thought, but as he said nothing when I passed my credit card to the woman behind the front desk, I was probably imagining it. The receptionist's expression didn't falter even though it was eleven pm and neither of us had a scrap of luggage. She simply booked us into a king room for the night and passed us our keys. I determined to ask Taylor if she was a relative.

Any constraint that I'd imagined between us disappeared once we reached our room. In the low light, Alex looked dark, sexy, and mysterious. Dark shadow dusted his jaw, dark hair curled below his ears, and his black jacket was a smidgeon too small, emphasising the breadth of his shoulders.

The desperation I'd felt on seeing him at the Assembly Rooms was replaced by a slower-growing and all-consuming hunger. He dropped the pharmacy bag to the floor when I stepped in and kissed him, and the heat from before was back in an instant. Alex kissed like no one I'd ever known. Every time, it overwhelmed me until I lost my place in the universe, and all I knew was him.

Clothes were the enemy, to be removed as quickly as possible, and then he was on top of me on the big bed. We were kissing as we moved against one another. I wrapped my hands in his hair to hold him there, needing his tongue in my mouth as his cock pressed against mine.

He eventually raised his head, propped himself on his hands and looked down at me, his eyes hungry.

"What do you want?"

A fresh wave of arousal surged through me. Both at the possibilities and the fact he'd asked.

"We probably should have had this conversation before we were naked," I said. Or tried to say. He lowered his head and licked my nipple, his tongue warm and wet, which threw me off a bit. I wrapped my hands in his hair again and drew his head back up so I could look at him. I'd had a lot of casualhookups post-Charlie and had quickly learned to be clear about what I wanted and, more importantly, what I didn't.

"I'm up for anal or no anal, topping or bottoming. Anything vanilla. Everything else is subject to negotiation."

His eyes darkened even further. "Okay, but what do you want right now?"His mouth was busy against my neck, sending shivers through me. "What you said applies to me, too, though I do love anal."

Oh, thank God. "Fuck me." It's what I'd been dreaming of since the first time we'd kissed, and I'd experienced all that leashed strength and power pressing me back against the nearest surface. Down by the river had never felt safe enough to suggest it—I'd always been aware someone might investigate the lights.

It was even better than I'd dreamed. He took his time, teasing me with lubed fingers, and it was exquisite torture, promising but not quite delivering. "Please," I got out.

He looked up at me, then licked a long, warm path up my cock as he eased a finger deep inside me. He started to work me, adding another finger, opening me up as he slid his mouth down on my cock.

I was whimpering with need by the time he pushed into me, a long, slow glide that didn't stop and showed no mercy. He rocked slowly at first, getting me used to him. He was so fucking hot, the muscles in his arms shifting as he moved above me and the need on his face when he looked at me.

I think I said his name, though everything was running out of control as I worked my cock in time with his thrusts. They were getting harder, and he was making a little noise every time he pushed home fully. When he hit the right rhythm, I lost awareness of everything except him deep inside me, fucking me, filling me.

He dipped down for a kiss that sent me over the edge. My orgasm hit so hard, it was as if I flew apart under him. And then all I could do was clutch at him as he fucked into me faster and faster until he came, a long groan wrung out of him.

He pressed his face against my neck for a moment, breathing heavily, before he extricated himself to deal with the condom. I was too boneless even to get under the covers before he returned, bringing a damp washcloth with him. He moved it over my skin in slow, sweeping movements that felt oddly nurturing.

When we slid under the covers together, I pulled him into my arms before realising I shouldn't have done so. But he fell asleep so swiftly, I wasn't sure he'd noticed. I lay holding him, floating in a sea of happiness.