And then he moved to the hard metal chair in front of Tracy’s desk, sitting, he crossed one leg over the other. The tattoo on his thigh just barely visible as the tight shorts pulled up. Tracy turned to the filing cabinet so that he wouldn’t be tempted to slide a finger up that thigh and…fuck—
“I owe you an apology. I was unaware that my brother had volunteered me to mentor your boys. My fault—Jude left messages, but I ignored them. And I would like to say that if the position is still available, I’d like to be considered for the job.”
Tracy slammed the cabinet he’d been digging blindly through and turned to take the seat behind his desk. The oh so precise speech made his skin crawl. This wasn’t the man he’d met Friday night with the gutter mouth that begged him to fuck him while taunting and cursing him. This was a PR machine who’d learned to weigh every word out of his mouth.
“I think I liked the Brody I met Friday night better. Maybe if you’d bring him back, I might consider it.”
Brody went very still. His face completely relaxed and completely tense at the same time. Tracy stared him down. He wanted some hint that the man remembered. His right hand moved, long fingers splayed across his face, covering his mouth and his nose. Eyes cinched tight. The foot that dangled began to bounce.
“I met several people Friday night. I can’t remember…it was a bad day—“
“I drove you home from the roadhouse. You live in a trailer behind your brother’s big ugly house.”
“What do you want?” Tracy wasn’t expecting the sudden ice in his voice. Or for him to stand, hand on the back of the chair as he made his way to the door. “Name your price.”
And suddenly it was all clear. Star football player, deep in the closet, he’d probably paid a fortune for silence. Hooking up with Bowen Murphy must have been a small piece of heaven after that.
“I’m not blackmailing you, Levi. I don’t want anyone to know my tastes any more than you do. But I’m not playing games. I went home with you. We did more than talk. It’s on the table. No games. I don’t play. Now have a seat and leave the ESPN voice somewhere else.” He waited while Levi seemed to make up his mind. Once he dropped the shield and relaxed, Tracy laid the file he was mangling on the desk and leaned back. “My name is Tracy. Since you seem to have forgotten it. Usually, I make a better first impression.”
“Did I take something? I don’t usually go around forgetting hot sex. Oh hell, this is awkward as fuck. I should probably go. I’m sorry.” The fidgeting was back, along with the inability to meet Tracy’s eye. But at least the voice was the one that should come out of Brody’s mouth.
“We’ll get past it. I have to ask though, did you forget, I mean…after the I—“
The smile stopped him, Brody’s lush red lips spread wide over white teeth. The promise of pleasure in the pout that followed. Maybe he should go. Because Tracy was thinking of incredibly inappropriate things the man could do with those lips. “I remember leaving the mark on your neck. I remember the gorgeous blue eyes. I remember never wanting it to end. I still feel you. If that’s what you want to hear. But the rest is a haze. Maybe if you’d stuck around to see the sun rise.”
Tracy noticed the gashes on his knuckles, which was a miracle since the man couldn’t keep his hands still. His golden gaze flitted around the room, settling on nothing. He never would have guessed that Brody could be a nervous Nelly. Watching his discomfort seemed to bring out the worst in Tracy.
“You called me Bo, while I was still inside you. I figured the bed was already full.” He shrugged as if it meant nothing. Because really, it meant nothing. Just a one-off that would never happen again. Brody became perfectly still. His gaze settled, finally, on his hands in his lap. The scabbed-over knuckles suddenly interesting.
“Well, this has been nice…I
Learning to Kill: Stories