Off Duty Volume 2 - Gregory Ashe Page 0,1
start again. Why are you blowing kisses to my ex?”
“To mess with his head.” Somers frowned. “Oh. Right. You still don’t know why we’re here.”
“I know.”
“They had a sign out front.”
“I know why we’re here.”
“They were giving out flyers at the door.”
“I know, John. Drop it.”
“For a detective, you’ve got some pretty lousy observational skills.”
“That’s because when we got to the club, you started pulling my hair and you know what that does—” Hazard cut off again and pounded back a drink of Guinness. When he lowered the glass, Somers was smirking.
“You asshole,” Hazard said. “You distracted me on purpose.”
Somers batted his eyelashes. “Who? Me?”
A roar went through the crowd. Someone must have found a fan because the air was circulating now, blowing away the thick bank of smoke. On the other side of the haze, Hazard could make out a platform that had been erected on the far side of the club, complete with a banner. He couldn’t read the words completely. Not yet. But—
“No,” Hazard said.
“Calm down.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I know. Don’t worry. I didn’t sign you up.”
“I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about you. My boyfriend. Mine.”
Cool blue eyes flicked to him and then away, full of amusement. “Yours?”
“Damn right.”
“Ok, then.”
Hazard let out a breath.
“It’s totally settled,” Somers said.
That was when Hazard knew something was wrong. He squinted at Somers.
“You said it. I’m yours, right? If you say I can’t, I can’t.”
“I’m saying it right now: you can’t. I’m not going to allow it.”
Somers nodded.
Then the music cut off, and Will Perk’s voice boomed over the speakers.
“Kings and queens,” he said in his dry, husky voice. “We’re about to begin our first annual bachelor auction. Would the bachelors make their way to the platform, please?”
Somers slid off his stool.
Hazard grabbed his arm. He said the first thing that came to mind. “You’re not a bachelor.”
“No, sweetheart. I’m not. But Will was desperate, and it’s just for charity.” Somers leaned down, kissed Hazard’s cheek, and spoke just loud enough for Hazard to hear him over the crowd: “Tell me what I’m allowed to do one more time, and I will be.”
II
OCTOBER 20
SATURDAY
7:29 PM
SOMERS GOT A THIRTY-SECOND head start through the crowd, and then Hazard charged after him. He was lucky; his size and his reputation made it easy to work his way through the room. Most of the guys melted away when they saw him coming. The few who didn’t, he circumnavigated easily. The odd twink who rushed him, trying to grab his hand or talk to him, bounced off like racquetball.
By the time Hazard caught up to Somers at the stage, the blond man was in a fierce conversation with Bradley Sherill, the Pretty Pretty’s manager.
“But Will didn’t tell me—”
Bradley just shook his head. “Sorry, Somers. Out of time. Either you’re in or you’re out.”
Somers glanced over his shoulder. When he saw Hazard, he turned and said, “Will didn’t tell me I’m supposed to have two outfits.”
“Oops,” Hazard said. “Too bad. I guess you can’t do the auction.”
“Ree!”
Hazard could feel a growl building in his chest. “Maybe if you’d talked to your smart, capable, detail-oriented boyfriend—”
“Handsome,” Somers said, grabbing Hazard by the arms. “You forgot handsome.”
“—he would have helped you get ready. Instead, you dragged him here, lied to him—”
“I never lied. I would never lie.”
“Willfully deceived and manipulated.”
“But I only did those things using my body, and I think that makes it ok.”
“Maybe if you had talked to me—”
“Ok. I get it. I’m an idiot. And an asshole. And a . . . a strumpet.”
“That sounds right.”
“Look, I messed up. I thought it would be kind of a fun surprise. And I know you . . . I know you can get a little jealous.” Now it was Somers’s turn to color. “I kind of . . . like that.”
Suddenly Hazard remembered this conversation from months before—before they had even started dating, in fact. What had Somers said? Something about the hot kind of jealousy. Something about being the kind of guy who got off on it.
Heat coiled in Hazard’s gut. He slid his hands onto Somers’s waist. “I am going to be very, very jealous.”
Somers bit his lower lip and nodded.
“I’m going to shout.”
A tiny shiver ran through Somers.
“I might even throw something.”
“You’re going to be mad,” Somers said, a blush staining his golden cheeks. “Really mad. Crazy with it.”
“And when I’m done showing you how angry I am, I’m going to throw you down on the bed and show you just exactly who you belong