The Name of the Game Page 3

  Seth of the lickable abs, the bitable ass, the kissable lips, and the utter, total unavailability of his fine self. Aw, hell. Even if there had been a prayer of something between them, Sophie would have put a stop to it.

  "Damn it, Sophie, no!" Seth raised his voice to bark. "I did not put myself in danger last night. I do what the Chief tells me. That's all. What? A prostitute sting." Pause. "Oh, for God's sake, no. I did not sleep with any of them. Well, of course I flirted, how else was I going to -- stop that, Sophie. Just stop. None of them meant a thing to me, and I cannot believe I'm having this conversation just after getting off the night shift. I'm tired, Sophie. Lunch? I'm going to be asleep."

  Clay sighed. Turning back to Anthony, he copied his earlier grimace. Anthony nodded in sympathy. A good guy like Seth needed to catch a break. Clay figured they both agreed that Seth deserved someone a whole lot more sympathetic to his situation, appreciative of his job, and less demanding of an account for every minute of every day.

  All the more reason to regret… but nah, he wasn't going to waste any more time on what ifs and maybes. Clay returned to the computer screen, watching Anthony whiz through negatives and positives, each potential source neatly bookmarked in the browser for later perusal.

  Suddenly, something caught his eye. "Wait, hold up. Go back." He leaned forward, peering at the screen. "Not that one. Yeah, the one before this. I want to take another look."

  "Speed dating?" Anthony raised an eyebrow. "Clay, you're losing your mind. I put that one in the 'reject' list."

  "No, no. This is interesting." Clay tugged the laptop closer to himself and folded his arms on the tabletop, settling down to read. "This doesn't look half bad, actually. You get to meet the guys in person. One-on-one."

  "For all of fifteen minutes."

  "Maybe you can take longer if you want. It doesn't say, but I bet so." Clay pointed. "Twenty dollars per meet, okay, ouch, but at least it's face-to-face. No need to wonder what good old Gerald is hiding beneath his desk. If they're hot and we can exchange a few decent words, then I can decide whether or not to risk a date with them. If they're not, then out with one and in with another."

  Anthony wrinkled his forehead. "And this appeals to you?"

  "More so than anything else you've come up with." Clay scrolled down the page. "And hey, look here, they have a center in town, near the beach."

  "That's hardly surprising."

  "In town." Clay nudged him with an elbow. "I can ask for morning or early afternoon meets. Won't have to worry about missing any work time. Maybe I'd hook up with someone who works the seven to eleven, and not someone who works at the 7-11."

  The men on the site didn't look half bad, either. Even if they were paid models, the company knew how to attract men. Only some mild cutesiness about their tagline: "High Speed Connections - For the Beachfront Single Who'd Like to Roll a Double."

  Not too precious. Just nasty enough to make Clay grin in appreciation. "This is the one." He tapped the mouse, determined. "I'm going for it."

  Anthony shook his head. "I really hope you know what you're doing."

  "Ah, come on." Clay grabbed him in a one-armed hug. "It's all thanks to you. I'd never even heard of this gig before. Sounds pretty sweet to me." To prove his point, he pressed a kiss to Anthony's temple, just below a row of curls. "Good as my best boy here."

  Anthony wriggled a little, then settled in with a contented sigh. "Everyone should be so lucky as to have a buddy like you in their life," Clay murmured, rocking them a little.

  "Damn it! No!" Seth snapped, startling them apart. "Sophie, would you just -- you're at work. I don't care if you do have your office door shut, language like that is going to get you into trouble."

  Clay and Anthony exchanged troubled glances. "How long until he dumps her?" Anthony murmured.

  Clay shook his head. "He won't. She's got him pussy-whipped."

  "Clay!"

  "What? It's true. Why else would he go back day after day? And let me tell you, when she deigns to grace this house with her presence, it's like a royal visit. She's got Seth wrapped around her little finger like a corkscrew, and we'd best not forget it."

  "Fine! Don't call me during the day, then. I'm taking the phone off the hook. Got it? Good." Seth clicked his cell phone closed and winged it across the room. Clay managed to catch the projectile in mid-flight before it shattered into little pieces on the opposite wall.

  "Problems?" Anthony ventured into the awkward silence that followed.

  "Christ." Seth sat back down and rolled his head into his arms. "You find anything yet, Clay?"

  "Speed dating," Anthony jumped in. "Fifteen minutes in a booth with a potential prospective. If you like them, you move on to the next level. Up to five candidates per day. Twenty bucks a guy for the company's fees, but Clay here is willing to pony up." He gave Clay's shoulder a hearty slap. "Anything for love, right?"

  "Oh, yeah." Clay reached out and laid a hand on Seth's arm. A casual touch, nothing more than one guy would do for another when he'd clearly been vocally throttled by his lady love. "Sophie giving you a hard time again?"

  "You have no idea." Seth's voice was low and full of misery. He raised up a bit to peer at them. "Say… do any of those sites have advice for getting rid of someone who's glued themselves to your side?"

  The phone rang. They all ignored it. The sound had a Sophie-aura around the peals, and no one was that brave -- at the moment, not even Seth. The woman was a hell of a powerhouse, and woe betide anyone who stood in her way. Clay wouldn't put it past her to actually pay a visit to the house, but there were always locks -- and he'd be sure to throw all the deadbolts when he got a chance.

  "I would suggest a beer, but it's too early," he joked, hoping it would get a smile out of Seth. The gratification he felt when his gambit succeeded brought an answering grin to his own face.

  "You know, you've got it easy," Seth said after a moment. "Being gay. Someone like Sophie would never have sunk her claws into you."

  "Should I thank you or be insulted?"

  "Be grateful."

  "For a woman who thinks gay people should be eradicated from the face of the earth?"

  Seth pulled a face. "Yeah. It's one thing, her being a bitch to me, but you've never done a thing to deserve it except be yourself."

  "The one thing she can't stand above all other things, including snags in her pantyhose and loose threads on her designer blouses."

  "Gay."

  There followed a moment in which Clay could hear two minds busily turning. He jerked upright. "No. I know what you're thinking, and no. Uh-uh. Not gonna happen."

  "Aww, Clay," Seth purred, sliding his chair closer. "What, have I lost that indefinable allure?"

  Clay swallowed roughly. Like you said, you have no idea. "This is all going to end in tears, Seth."

  "You don't even know what we're planning yet!"

  "Call it ESP. You're going to pretend you've jumped the fence to get Sophie off your back. Aren't you?"

  Seth and Anthony exchanged innocent looks. The perfect 'who, us?' expression, and it fit right on the face of two cats with feathers dangling from their mouths.

  "Would you excuse us for a second?" Clay asked. Seth shrugged, removing his arm from Clay's shoulder and standing up. He meandered out of the kitchen, probably heading for the bathroom.

  Once he was out of earshot, Clay turned to Anthony for help.

  "Don't," he said in a whisper. "Anthony, you know -- I can't -- don't do this to me."

  Anthony's gaze turned soft. "Clay, honey, it may be the biggest favor I ever do you."

  "But to lie about everything. Where's that going to get me except sitting in a bar with my heart broken, crying into my beer?"

  "Tequila shooters."

  "Whichever."

  "Clay… trust me on this, all right? You can still do the speed dating. Just give your friend a hand."

  "Yeah. Thing is, I want to give him more than a hand, and you know it. Pretending he's my lover
just to get a woman off Seth's back? This goes farther than you've thought about, Toni. What if the guys on the force find out, and they think it's for real, too?"

  "There are other gay men in the police, Clay. You're just being difficult."

  "Got to admit Anthony's right," Seth startled them again by drifting back in to say. He leaned against a counter, soft waves of blond hair falling into his face. Looking at the man, Clay felt his heart give a double-thump. What he'd have given to be able to get up on his feet, cross over, taste those tempting lips in a sweet kiss, run his fingers through Seth's rumpled locks, stroke his back with the other hand…

  "It isn't right," he finally managed. "It's not fair to -- you."

  Seth shrugged. "The guys on the force don't like Sophie, either, not after what she did at the latest Policeman's Ball."

  "Was that when she -- with the lobster -- and the prime rib -- and the chicken?" Anthony wanted to know.

  "Oh, yeah. And the critiques of what the Chief's wife was wearing. The loud commentary didn't win her any friends. In fact, it made her a few enemies." Seth shrugged. "I figure I tell the guys about this, and they'll understand."

  Clay started to feel cornered and outgunned. God almighty. It was like having a chocolate cherry cordial dangled in front of his mouth and not being permitted to take a bite.

  But on the other hand… how could he say no? Even the chance of pretending to have Seth as his own had to be better than nothing, and it'd be as close as he ever got to the real thing. So, with Anthony and Seth's expectant gazes fixed on him, Clay gave in. "Fine," he said. "I'm in."

  Anthony squealed and hugged Clay around his neck. Seth's eyes warmed with affection and good humor. He reached down and gave Clay a hug. "You won't regret this," he promised. "Sugar."

  Clay couldn't get mad at Seth, or stay annoyed for long. He squeezed back, not letting himself linger on the play of muscles in the man's shoulders. "Nah. How could I not want to help a friend out?"

  "Good," Seth said -- and without any warning, turned them just so, came closer, and kissed Clay on the lips.

  Clay froze. Whoa! Hold on, back up, circle the wagons. What the -- how the -- "Seth!" he sputtered as he broke free. "What the hell?"

  Seth was staring at him. The faintest flicker of something dark and hot shone in his eyes for a moment before it was gone. "To seal the deal," he said awkwardly. "I figured, given the circumstances, it'd be better than a handshake."

  Clay resisted the urge to raise his hand and touch his lips. What he'd longed to have for ages had been given without a second's thought. "Didn't the Romans finish off their bargains this way?" he joked to cover his roiling thoughts. "Maybe the Greeks?"

  "Possibly Italians." Seth settled down into his chair. The strange look, whatever it had been, was wholly gone from his face. He leaned forward expectantly. "So, you're going to teach me all about what it takes to be a gay man, right? I mean, the whole nine. Clothes, mannerisms, cruising --"

  "Whoa!" Clay raised his hands, laughing. "It's not like there's an initiation ceremony. You are, or you aren't. Just saying it is enough to make people believe you. Have you ever doubted I was gay?"

  Seth considered it. "No, actually. Not since the moment I was interviewing potential housemates and you said 'By the way, I'm gay, hope that's not a problem?'." He grinned. "Hasn't bothered me yet, and now, it's going to help pull my nuts out of the fire. Just keep it up until Sophie is out of the picture, and then we go back to normal."

  "Normal. Right."

  Seth beamed. "You're a true friend, Clay. You know that?"

  Once again, you have no idea. "Okay," Clay said, tilting his chair back. "Operation Exterminate Sophie has begun. This is the way we start…"

  Chapter Three

  Okay, so, brain… you want to let me know just what the hell happened in there? Seth frowned to himself as he shut the bathroom door. Habit dictated that he leave it open, letting the steam billow out into the house and sending Clay into a hissy fit -- good old-fashioned teasing -- but just then, he wanted the thing closed.

  Fact one: he'd just kissed a guy.

  Fact two: the kiss-ee had been his housemate.

  Fact two-B: his housemate was gay.

  Fact three: he'd kind of li… whoa, there, brain. Retreat and regroup.

  Seth juggled the figures around in his head a few times, but always came up with the same conclusion -- he was screwed. Aw, man. The idea had just been a way to get rid of Sophie, the Siren who was Sucking Out his Soul. He'd never intended it to go even this far on the physical level.

  Why, then, had he gone and kissed Clay?

  As kisses went, it hadn't been anything to write home about, barring the "male" factor. No, really, it wasn't, Seth insisted to himself. A nice kiss, sure. Dry but gentle, almost tender. Not the wet, squishy smack he'd planned on, or the backup dry peck he'd had as a contingency plan. It'd been a regular smooch, the kind he'd have given a… good friend. Who happened to be male. Who happened to be gay.

  Seth prided himself on being a decent guy. A clean-nosed cop, even if he did have to get down and play dirty in Undercover. He liked his pranks, and when a relationship was headed for the Dumpster he'd do what it took to get out with his skin intact, but he didn't lead people on.

  More, he had two eyes in his head. He'd seen Clay watching him. Always from a distance, very politely, never closing the gap between them on the gay-straight equator. He'd always known that if his bread were buttered on that side, Clay would have made a move right away.

  There'd always been that nice, safe distance, though... That was, until he went crashing through it, lips first, and threw everything out of whack.

  I seriously don't know what was going on in my head at that moment, Seth admitted to himself. He just prayed Clay would take it in the spirit intended, like the advanced form of a handshake, and not read in any further meaning.

  He shrugged, rolling his shoulders. No reason to worry, really. He knew Clay about as well as anyone on the face of the earth, his buddies on the force included, and he was sure of one thing: Clay wouldn't go all starry-eyed over a single kiss.

  Sure, he'd been going through a dry spell lately, but those happened to everyone. Clay seemed happy with his life as a DJ and as long as he had Anthony around, his good mood stayed intact. Sometimes, Seth wondered if he should have a talk with Toni and see if he could swing Clay's pendulum for a while. Close as they were, it'd probably do them both a world of good.

  He winced. Right. A little more misogyny, and I'll make chauvinist pig. Nice going, Seth. Being a cop didn't lend itself to developing a boatload of sensitivity. If a man wasn't careful, it made him hard as nails, inside and out. He'd seen too many of his brothers on the force go down to the bottle or worse, get picked up by Vice themselves. One of the reasons he'd been glad to have Clay around.

  Clay helped him believe that he could be a good man, a better man, and gave him a reason to keep on fighting -- because he had friends closer than family to come home to.

  He shouldn't have done anything to risk screwing that up. Jesus, he hoped Clay wouldn't be mad.

  A shower would help clear his thoughts. Shaking his head, the longish blond strands flying into his face, Seth wrinkled his nose and thought about how much he ached for a trim and cut. No deal, though. Regulation didn't work for someone who did the regular stings. Long hair could be frizzed out, tied up, braided, tucked under a cap, whatever. His face wasn't exactly John Doe Brown, but he could blend into a crowd in a place like Vegas. Built, lithe, and compact. The kind of man who could spring into action, or be a fine candidate for a good time.

  He knew he was good at his job. Units put in special requests to have him assist. He'd even been on a couple of cop shows, with his face blurred out and voice distorted, talking about what it took to dig deep and shovel up the things men tried to keep hidden in the dark. Sounded bleak, but Seth loved every second of it.

  Except the hair. He could definitely lose the hair, and he wouldn't cry a si
ngle tear over it.

  Reaching into the shower stall -- no tub, one of the many reasons Sophie had always refused to spend the night -- Seth turned on the water and cranked the lever all the way to scalding. Exactly how he liked the stuff. After a long night, he needed a good hot soak to get the sweat and grime off him. He'd never be able to hit the sheets smelling like he did, of motorcycle from his ride, smoke from the clubs, and a splash of bourbon to make his drunk act convincing. Cheap stuff, too.

  As the water warmed up, Seth stripped off his clothes, one layer at a time. First the T-shirt, that had definitely seen better days. He half-laughed as a hole under one sleeve tore substantially wider when he peeled it away from his body. Who else got to shop for their work clothes at the Goodwill?