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The Name of the Game Page 5
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Clay stood stock-still at first, unmoving as a statue. Come on, Seth prayed. Get with the plan, bud. Do it for me.
Slowly, although it seemed as if he was questioning Seth's sanity, Clay's mouth began to move. Seth let himself sigh out loud as he sank into the kiss, savoring it for what it was -- a piece of friendship that meant more to him than any of Sophie's cold caresses.
Then, he stopped thinking entirely. Damn, Clay knew how to kiss. A firm tongue came out to trace Seth's lips, moving around in a small circle, probing at the seam that held them together. Unconsciously, Seth opened up to let Clay in. It felt -- normal. Natural, the way a good kiss should develop.
With warm lips under his own, Seth groaned and shifted his grip on Clay until he had the man by the waist, drawing them into a closer contact. Clay went with him every step of the way, nestling in as if he were meant to be there. There was no trace of weirdness or uncertainty, but instead a sense of coming home. Seth felt right kissing Clay.
"Guys?" Anthony's voice intruded tentatively. Seth started away from Clay's lips just in time to hear a door slammed with an almighty thud. "Um, guys? She's gone. You can, er, stop now."
Seth looked up sharply to see an absolute lack of Sophie. He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "What did she -- did she say anything?"
Anthony shook his head. "Nothing I'm repeating." He pretended to look downcast for a moment before a twinkle sparked to life in his eyes. "You think she's gone for good?"
"Sophie? No way. She's just regrouping." Seth squeezed Clay again, giving his friend an easy shake. "Hey, I'm sorry about mauling you. I just couldn't listen to her ranting about you being a bad person. Not when you're one of the best I've ever met."
"Uh-huh," Clay said, looking dazed. "Seth?"
"Yeah?"
"You're naked."
"Lord have mercy, my virgin eyes!" Anthony jumped up and ran out of the room.
Seth ran his tongue over his lips again. "Say what, now?"
"You're really, really naked." Clay's throat worked as he swallowed. "And I don't know how to say this to you, but hey, I'm gay, you're male, you're naked, and I think we have a problem here."
"Oh, shit!" Seth jumped back -- right into the towel Anthony was holding out. He turned around, risking flashing him, and secured the terrycloth around his hips as fast as he could.
A few extra folds at the front, and with a mostly-turned-around stance, he looked back over his shoulder at Clay. "Hey, I'm sorry about the kiss."
"No." Clay waved him off, still looking stunned. "It was part of the act. I get it." He half-laughed. "I'm sorry, myself."
"Don't be. We're guys, things happen." Seth hitched his towel. "Look, I'd better…"
"Yeah." Clay sat back down. "You'd better."
Seth bore the weight of Anthony's gaze flicking back from one to the other of them for a full ten seconds before he got the hell out of his own kitchen for the second time in one morning.
Sporting a hard-on he could have pounded nails with.
Once around the corner, Seth careened to a stop and rubbed his face with his free hand. He loaded all the factors into his mental calculator and decided that he'd come full circle.
He truly was screwed.
And worse, he'd screwed around with Clay.
So far the score was: Day 2, Seth 0. What the hell would happen next?
Chapter Four
Clay stood in front of the bathroom mirror, checking himself over for the nth time. Was he ready to go? Hair carefully bed-headed, yup; teeth brushed? Yup. Nothing said 'potential disaster' worse than a piece of rice cereal stuck to an incisor.
Clothes? He spread his hands wide and glanced down, giving himself the once-over. One lightweight hoodie in a snazzy hunter green shade. One pair of jeans broken in to the shape of his body. Not a bad body, either, he hoped.
And the face? Boyish. Friendly, like a puppy ready to play fetch or chase its own tail for a change. He couldn't change the physiognomy, so might as well use it to his advantage.
He tried out a charming smile.
"Hi, I'm Clay. Good to meet you."
No.
"Hey, how's it going? Clay. Is what they call me."
No.
"Hey, have a seat. So we meet at last."
No.
"What's a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?"
No.
"Argh!" Clay grabbed his hair and tugged. "I'm never going to get this right," he earnestly told his reflection. The man in the mirror nodded, agreeing: he was doomed to make an ass out of himself.
Groaning, Clay leaned down over the counter and rested his head on folded arms. Nothing could go simply, could it? First Anthony and Seth had concocted their devilish scheme to drive the Ice Princess screaming into the night. He'd have been able to handle the plan. Had almost convinced himself of it.
Then, Seth had upped the ante by planting one on Clay that nearly knocked him off his feet. Only the two strong arms around his waist had held him upright, pulled into an embrace better than he'd felt in months. No, better than ever, because it was Seth, and it had been a dream come true -- until Sophie had left and Seth had backed down.
Their shower had gotten a hell of a workout that day. Seth had used all the hot water, but Clay hadn't minded. Cold did wonders for his state of mind and the state of his persistent erection.
Had Seth felt it, pressed against him? Surely he must have. Clay had tried breaking the news to him gently, but he wasn't sure if it was his careful wording or Sophie's departure that had caused Seth to jump away.
If it had all ended there, he'd have been satisfied. Sophie gone; good. No more games. But uh-uh, Seth was still determined to go the full nine. Clay was going to have to teach him everything there was to know about being gay. He'd even thrown in the trump card of having to learn a new skill for Undercover. Someone who could play the role convincingly would be able to penetrate -- Clay winced -- a whole new rank and file of crimes.
So, had he had a moment to himself in the past week? Not a one. When he wasn't working, Seth had immersed himself in reading Clay's magazines and asking questions.
"What's it like when two guys sixty-nine?"
Oh, God. Clay had moaned, feeling his cheeks heat up. For a worldly-wise guy, Seth could be so naive at times.
"You mean there's a Kama Sutra for gay men?"
Clay had thumped his head lightly against his forearm. Seth didn't know, or Clay hoped he didn't, how his questions affected Clay. The big head struggled for answers that wouldn't send his housemate screaming into the night, while the little head popped up eagerly and wanted to demonstrate.
He thought he'd handled things pretty well, though. The status quo between them had almost returned to normal, and no one could have been more relieved. Hence this morning's jaunt. Seth was giving Clay a lift to the speed dating place in a local strip mall, dropping him off on his way to the gym.
Ooh. Gym. Sweaty muscles.
Hey, down, boy, down!
Outside, someone leaned on the car horn. "Hey, Clay!" he heard Seth bellow. "Come on! I'll miss my chance on the best machines if you don't get it in gear, and I mean fast!"
"Coming!" Clay yelled back out of the bathroom window. He slid it into place with a thump, took one last look at himself in the mirror, agreed with his own expression of mingled hope and despair, and got out before Seth decided to leave him behind.
He went out of the door with a quick check to see if it had locked behind him and then slid into the passenger seat of Seth's car. Clay stole a glance at his driver, who was occupied with drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in tune to an edgy rock beat. Wisps of honey-blond hair had escaped his short ponytail and fanned down around his cheeks. Bright green eyes focused on the driveway in front of them as he hummed along.
Oh, yeah, speed dating, here he came.
Anything to take his mind off the dichotomy of a man he was supposed to pretend to love, but had to keep to a hands-off policy with. It had to b
e better than this.
Seth turned to Clay, his grin dazzling as always. "Ready to burn rubber?"
"For a cop, you sure drive like a bat out of the hot place." Clay reached hastily for his seatbelt. "Do me a favor, huh? Don't get me killed on my way to meet the stud of my dreams."
"Do my best." Seth put the car into drive and pulled forward, putting his foot down the instant they were out on the open road. One hand flicked out to jack the volume on his stereo, blasting the car with sound.
Seth threw his head back and whooped in delight. "Get the motor running, head out on the highway," he sang. "Looking for adventure --"
Clay couldn't hold back a grin a moment longer. Ah, hell. Whatever came of this crazy scheme to hold Sophie at bay, he'd never stop thinking of Seth as a one-hundred-percent friend. You couldn't not love the guy.
"Rock and roll," he agreed, and rolled his own window down to let the wind whip through his hair as they sped down the hilly beach roads.
* * *
When they pulled up to the strip mall, Clay read the tasteful sign above the small unit with a gulp of nerves. Looked deserted except for a small red-haired woman sitting at a reception desk and a few tasteful chairs.
Beside him, Seth frowned. "You sure this is the place?"
Clay checked his directions, then glanced at the marquee again. "Appears to be. So, I'll meet you back here in about an hour, hour and a half?"
Seth narrowed his eyes, tapping on the wheel. "Actually…"
"Oh, no." Clay held his hands up. "I know where you're heading, and don't go there. I do not need someone holding my hand through this. I had to talk Anthony down from being my personal escort just so he could cop an eyeful."
"No, seriously, Clay, come on." Seth turned to face Clay. He had his own puppy face on, which, while being endearing, looked more like a tenacious German Shepherd's expression. "I think I should go with you. Where else am I going to find out what it's like when two gay men hook up?"
"Oh, yeah. That'll be great. Me with my bodyguard in his tee and short shorts? The guys will really think I'm available then."
"Clay, be a sport." Seth pushed him lightly. "I'll stand in the background. Be unobtrusive. I can do it, you know I can. Give me a chance."
"Absolutely not. No way." Clay shook his head. "Stop giving me the look. It won't work."
"Clay, please."
"Not playing fair."
"All's fair in love and war."
"Yeah, and so is bashing the enemy across the head with a great big stick. Seth, you are not coming in with me."
Seth paused, then turned the car off. He pulled the keys out of the ignition and flashed Clay a wicked grin. "Stop me."
He was out of the car before Clay could recover enough to undo his own seatbelt. "Seth, no!" he yelped, untangling himself. "Seth, stop!"
Too slow. By the time Clay had fumbled his way out, Seth was already inside, charming the petite redhead with his best smile. "…here for the five-thirty appointment," he finished saying. Apparently spotting Clay, Seth waved him over. "And here he is, the man himself."
The redhead turned her best 'receptionist' smile on him. "And you would be Clay McPherson, correct?"
Clay eyed her up and down. He struggled to hold back a smile. Not too prominent, but the Adam's apple was there, and for such a small 'woman', she had darned big hands. She caught him looking and her eyes began to sparkle. "Jeri at your service," she said, shaking his hand. "You've got good instincts."
Clay couldn't help chuckling. "Me? I'm nothing. Now you, you have the look down to an art form."
"Oh, go on," she said, waving one manicured finger at him. "Now. It's only been a week since you applied, so we only have one candidate for you today. Hey, hey, no sad faces. It usually takes about a month for the names to circulate and build up a decent level of interest. Besides," she said, dropping her voice to create the image of confidentiality, "someone cute as you is bound to snap up a prize right away. Could be tonight's your lucky night!"
Clay gave a mental shrug. One week in, so he supposed he should be glad anyone had nibbled at the bait at all. "Lead me to him," he said, finally letting go of the receptionist's hand. "Is it a back room, or…?"
"A small cubicle, over to the side there by the third ficus. You've just missed one rush and beat the second one, which is why the place looks empty right now." She beamed a dazzling smile at them. "And will your, er, friend be accompanying you?"
The last was spoken with an air of mixed hope-he-will and hope-he-won't. Clay stifled another grin. Looked like Seth had won himself a new groupie. From the look on Seth's face, he was halfway between appreciation and panting with his tongue hanging out.
"He's coming with me," Clay decided. "Seth, we're going walkies. Into the room over here -- this one? -- and you get to check out some more gay men."
"Can we talk later?" Seth asked the redhead. She nodded, lips curving into a perfect Cupid's bow. "After my friend gets through with his, er, speed date."
"Seth." Clay tugged at his arm. "Come on. I think there's something you need to know."
"I do?" Seth turned away from Jeri the Luscious and focused on Clay, good-natured again. "What do you mean, more gay men?"
Clay whispered into Seth's ear.
The look on his face made the whole bodyguard role entirely worthwhile.
* * *
Jeri's sweet voice floated in on the intercom. "Clay, are you ready? Your date is here."
Seth, leaning against the wall, sulked. "I still can't believe she is a he."
"Believe it," Clay retorted. He turned to Seth. "How do I look?"
Seth, bless his heart, didn't get thrown by the question. He studied Clay carefully before rendering the verdict: "Messy, but cute. I like the gold earring."
Clay touched the small hoop in his ear and smiled. "A gift."
"From Anthony," they said together.
"Who else? He dragged me into the piercing parlor a few months back. Normally, I just wear a tiny titanium stud you'd barely notice. Tonight, I figured I'd go for the pirate look. Pretty snazzy, huh?"
"Shiver me timbers." Seth laughed. "Come on, let's get this over with. Then, how about you and I head out to a bar?"
Clay felt a warning tic beneath his left eye. "Depends," he said carefully. "It's kind of early. What type of bar?"
Seth shrugged. "The sort you'd hang out at."
"Seth, I don't exclusively hang out at bars where the men are all about the men. I like a quiet beer in a normal hetero establishment just fine."
"Okay, all right. I would like to go to a gay bar," Seth clarified.
"Why the hell do you want to do that?"
"Because!" On Clay's eye-roll, Seth grudgingly explained. "I want to see what it's like out there. I mean come on, Clay, this is a whole new world. Men who look like bombshells, good enough to fool even me, and guys like you? I have got to see what this is all about."
"Seth, I don't know…"
"I'm not asking you to do anything I wouldn't do for you."
"Yeah? Then where's my ticket to the PD barbeque as your date?" Clay fired back. He breathed out while raking his fingers through his hair. He should say no. He really, really should say no.
But when had he last been able to deny Seth a single thing he wanted?
"Fine," Clay relented. "For one drink. One. Then we go back home. I hardly ever have the night off, and I want to enjoy myself."
"You couldn't do that in a bar?"
"While guarding your ass?" When Seth blinked, Clay burst into laughter. "You don't get it, do you?" he managed. "Oh, God, are you in for a surprise." He tapped the small microphone on his desk. "Jeri, we're good to go. Send in the fresh meat."
"I don't get what?" Seth asked as the door gave a discreet buzz and clicked open. Clay made shushing gestures with his hands as a man, big enough to play university fullback, edged in. He held a sheet of paper twisted into a fan in his massive hands. He was dark as melted chocolate with muscles upon muscles, and a
shy if brilliant smile.
Clay's heart gave a small flutter. Oh, yeah. Daddy like.
"Hi," he said casually. "Come on in. I'm Clay."
"Hello. Richard," the giant said in a deep, burly voice that sent shivers up and down Clay's spine. "Pleased to meet you."