From Morocco to Paris by Lydia Nyx Read Free Book Online Page B

Zane demanded. He leapt to his feet and pushed at Davey’s legs with his knees. “I’m going to the bathroom!”
    Davey smirked and sat up. “Turned you on, did I?”
    Zane went to the back of the train. In the tiny bathroom he splashed cold water on his face. He wanted some aspirin as soon as they got to the hotel.
    Twenty minutes later they arrived in Melilla and took a cab to the hotel. Davey had actually picked up some Arabic, and the cab driver spoke broken English. Since Davey also spoke his language in a broken way, they managed to cobble together a conversation. Zane would have marveled at Davey’s ingenuity, but his head throbbed.
    In his room, Zane found some aspirin in his travel bag, took them, and laid down. A twenty-minute rest did wonders. Also, not having Davey around helped.
    Finally Zane got up, put on a fresh t-shirt, slipped on his shoes, and went out to the patio. The other three were at a table, already eating. Davey wore his djellaba, though he obviously had clothes on underneath. Grudgingly, Zane inwardly admitted the color looked good on him.
    “Do you like it?” Davey asked and smoothed his hands over the robe as Zane sat down.
    “It’s very you,” Zane said.
    “I think it looks striking on him,” Cristiano said. “It’s a good color.”
    Zane looked at the menu. His head had stopped aching, but he still felt out of sorts. Elliot seemed broody as well. Zane soon discovered why.
    “I really wish you were going with us,” Elliot said wistfully to Cristiano. “Even though it’s going to suck.”
    “I’ll be back after,” Cristiano said and smiled gently at him. “I have to be in Milan for the unveiling of my fall line. I have full trust in my costumers.” He shot Davey a look. Davey saluted him.
    Zane didn’t have any words of comfort for Elliot. He never got serious with anybody he fucked on set -- the relationship always ended in a twinkling. He intended to keep up that mantra, no matter how much Davey tried to convince him otherwise.
    “I was telling Zane how sexy it’s going to be out in the desert,” Davey said, around a mouthful of food. Elliot looked at him the same way Zane had on the train.
    “I’m serious!” Davey protested. “All that testosterone. All us men, stuck together for weeks on end. No showers, just being hosed down, living like animals. It’s going to be so overwhelmingly masculine.”
    “Like a gay Disneyland,” Zane said. He looked apologetically at Cristiano. “No offense.”
    Cristiano smiled. “Actually, I wish I were going with you, since you put it that way.”
    After they ate, Davey followed Zane back to his room. Elliot and Cristiano wanted to be alone.
    “Poor Elliot, he’s going to end up broken-hearted,” Davey said.
    Zane opened the windows to let some air in.
    “He should know better,” Zane said. “Getting emotionally attached to people on a movie. That’s just stupid.”
    “Yeah. Feelings are for idiots.”
    Zane shot him a look. Davey smiled sweetly.
    “I’m gonna use your bathroom, okay?” Davey said and headed toward the bathroom, his djellaba fluttering in the breeze.
    Zane sat by the windows, gazing out at the water and the afternoon sun slanting on the sand. He thought about calling his mother. Or maybe taking a nap. He wasn’t used to having so much idle time. He reasoned he could fire up his laptop and check Elliot’s correspondence, if he wanted to be a really good employee.
    Zane didn’t look around when the bathroom door opened. Davey cleared his throat.
    Zane turned and saw him in the doorway, leaning against the frame, obviously now bare under his djellaba. Most of the clasps were undone but the fabric strategically covered his naughty parts. Still, a hint of bare chest and smooth, flat belly, along with a glimpse of thigh, made an alluring sight.
    “How’s it feel?” Zane asked.
    “Sensual.” Davey walked toward him, feet slapping on the floor, his movements making the robe shift, providing glimpses