Open Seating (8 page)

Then there was the other issue he had to come to terms with. In the unlikely event he could overcome his scruples and actually fall into bed with someone, Seth would still be at a loss. He’d only had two partners before Mark, and neither had been adventurous. Seth wasn’t sure if he brought out the conservative in his men or if it was just bad luck, but no one he’d been with seemed eager to experiment, so in many ways, he was no better than a virgin.

In the beginning of their relationship, he and Mark couldn’t keep their hands off each other, but things had tapered off after they’d been together several years. They’d fallen into a predictable pattern, like a lot of long-term couples, and every once in a while, Seth wondered if there was something he was missing.

Now he was thrust into sharing his life for the next three weeks with a man who was actively engaged in finding a hookup in every port. Should he ignore Bryce’s shenanigans and avoid the unpleasantness to follow if he mentioned anything about his carousing? The safe bet would be to keep his opinions to himself. Seth had already made his feelings quite clear when Bryce had banged the stranger in the airport, and there was no sense alienating the man after he’d been so helpful during Seth’s embarrassing toilet malfunction.

He closed his laptop and unplugged it, giving up his attempt for today. He’d chalk this failure up to jet lag and a little soul-searching. It was half past seven, which would give him plenty of time to shower and shave while Bryce stuffed his face with the English breakfast that gave Seth goose bumps just thinking about it. He passed the dining room on his way to the elevators and, on impulse, showed his key card and complained about yesterday’s meal. The maître d’ assured Seth his illness had nothing to do with their menu. Nonetheless, he declined their generous offer to whip up a brand-new batch of scrambled eggs, opting for the safer granola bar instead.

As soon as Seth walked into their room, he was confronted by the sight of Bryce talking on his iPhone. He had his back turned toward the door, and it was obvious he’d stepped out of the shower in a rush to take the call. His dark hair was plastered to his head, gleaming like an oil slick. Drops of water dotted his shoulders and trickled down his back, landing on the towel he’d casually wrapped low on his waist. Seth couldn’t stop staring at the exposed butt crack and the way the towel hugged the round ass. He remembered what it felt like soaping Bryce when he was down on his knees in the shower stall, and he would have given his left nut to do it again. Only this time, he’d take it a step further and ask Bryce to turn around. He’d caught a brief glimpse of the man’s cock just before their shower the other day, but it had been fleeting, and his brain was so muddled from the agonizing shame of what had transpired, he only remembered two things: Bryce was large, proportional in every way, and he was cut. Now Seth wanted details. Did he shave his balls? Were there any piercings or tattoos Seth had missed? Did his erection curve up or stick out?

The remorse hit hard and fast as he thought of Mark. Barely two weeks gone and Seth was already curious about another man’s cock. His growing erection deflated instantly, and he could feel the heat staining his cheeks as guilt coalesced with shame.

Bryce ended the call, turned around, and caught Seth staring. He grinned. “See something you like, roomie?”

“Stop acting like a frat boy,” Seth snapped.

“You’re the one looking at me like I just popped out of a cake.”

“I am not!”

Bryce continued to appraise Seth with a smirk on his face. He didn’t seem the least bit bothered by Seth’s adamant protest. Instead, he put his hands on his hips to give Seth a better view of the sculptured perfection of his massive and richly furred chest. Apparently Bryce was experienced enough to know when someone was interested and lying about it. His confident attitude was a sharp contrast to Seth’s blustering, especially since Seth’s gaze had drifted down to Bryce’s nipples that were standing out like rosy gumdrops amidst dark swirls of hair. The temptation to step forward and suck on them was so strong Seth had to say something.

“Will you get dressed?” he implored. “I need to shower, or we’re going to be late.”

“Sure,” Bryce said, moving toward his suitcase. He pulled out a pair of briefs, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a fresh pair of jeans. Without preamble, he dropped the towel.

Seth gasped, and Bryce’s eyes flashed, probably enjoying the shock and awe. He stepped into his briefs and dragged them up his long legs, taking his time to adjust his package, which seemed far too large for the tight fit. Finally satisfied, Bryce pulled up the faded jeans.

Seth didn’t say another word. What was the point? Bryce could obviously see right through him, and the impromptu striptease had done the job. He was hard again. Crossing the room in a few swift strides, he entered the bathroom, locked the door, and stripped. It had been a long time since he’d experienced overwhelming lust. Too long in fact. He was on fire, craving the touch of a man he didn’t even like.

Scratch that. He did like Bryce, but he didn’t love him, and Seth had never been with anyone he didn’t care for in a romantic sense. Sadly, his body didn’t give a shit about that missing ingredient, and his dick was in dire need of release. He turned the faucet and let the warm water beat down on his chest. He leaned against the tiled wall, took his cock in hand, and jacked himself into momentary oblivion.

Approximately one hour later, they were on a comfortable bus on the road to the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Whitehall’s Mounted Horse Guards, the prime minister’s Downing Street office, Piccadilly Circus, and Buckingham Palace. The highlight of the day was the ceremonial pageantry of the Changing of the Guard. By the time they stopped for lunch, it was close to two in the afternoon, and Seth and Bryce were both starving.

“Are you sure you can eat regular food?” Bryce asked. “We don’t want a repeat of the other day.”

“I took another pill this morning and my stomach feels fine,” Seth replied. “I have to eat something more substantial than soup and crackers.”

“Agreed. What did you have in mind?” Bryce asked.

“Fish and chips sounds good, but anything fried seems risky.”

“You’re right. Why not have some pasta with a mild sauce?”

“Do they have Italian close by?”

“Ask the guide,” Bryce suggested.

They’d been given one hour to eat, so time was a factor. Fortunately, there was a restaurant around the corner that served a variety of different foods, and spaghetti was on the menu. Their tour guide warned them to be back by three sharp or they’d be left behind.

“We’ll be here,” Bryce said confidently.

The restaurant was a five-minute walk, and they were seated and served within twenty minutes. Seth ordered a bowl of spaghetti with meatballs, and Bryce had a huge slice of lasagna. They didn’t converse, wolfing down their meals to keep the deadline. When they finished, there were five minutes to spare, so they had a cup of coffee to give them the extra caffeine boost for the afternoon tour of the Tower of London.

“How’s your tummy?” Bryce asked.

“So far so good,” Seth said. “Thanks for asking.”

“Did you get any writing done this morning?”

“A little bit,” Seth lied. “I’m sure I’ll do better once we’re on board the ship.”

“Do you want to go out tonight after we get back from the tour?”

“Out?”

“Yeah, hit a club or two.”

Seth was surprised Bryce would want to go out with him. “Won’t I cramp your style?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I had a problem with it.”

“How did it go last night?” Seth asked.

“Fine, but that’s not what this is about.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You should see a London gay club for the experience if nothing else.”

“I haven’t been to a club in years,” Seth admitted. “Mark and I were sort of homebodies.”

“Time to make a few changes.”

“I don’t have the right clothes,” Seth protested.

Bryce snorted. “You’ve got the looks; that’s all that matters. Clothes are optional anyway.”

Seth wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. He was dying to ask if Bryce found him attractive but didn’t want to hear the answer if it was negative so he said nothing.

“Well?” Bryce asked again.

“I’ll go if I’m not too tired.”

“Come on. Stop acting like a member of AARP.”

“I’m not in my twenties,” Seth retorted. “It takes a while to bounce back from an illness.”

“You had diarrhea, not cancer.”

“Bryce,” Seth scolded. “Keep your voice down.”

Bryce looked around. “No one heard, and besides, even if they did, who gives a damn?”

“The last thing I’d want to imagine while I’m eating is
that
.”

“Come on.” Bryce grabbed the bill they’d been handed a few minutes ago. “We’re going to be late.”

They paid the cashier and hurried to the bus, which was warming up. Most of their fellow travelers were already seated, and the tour guide checked their names off her list when they boarded.

As the bus headed to the Tower, Bryce nudged Seth’s shoulder. “Doing okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“So… tonight is a go?” Bryce asked.

“Are you always this persistent?”

“Yeah, if it’s something I want. Do you have a problem with it?”

“What if I do?” Seth asked.

“I’ll stop bugging you and ask someone else.”

Oddly disappointed, Seth remarked, “Grindr will hook you up.”

“It’s never let me down yet.”

“How can I compete with that?” Seth asked.

“This isn’t a competition,” Bryce reminded him. “I just thought you’d enjoy a night on the town to take your mind off the last few weeks. No biggie.”

“You’re right,” Seth said. He knew that he was reading too much into Bryce’s request and needed to lighten up. This wasn’t a date, and their relationship had not changed. Just because they’d shared some intimate, albeit unpleasant, moments didn’t mean they were anything more than friends. “Let’s do it.”

“Cool,” Bryce said, sounding like a frat boy again.

Seth did a mental eye roll. What on earth was he thinking?

STANDING IN
the middle of their hotel room patiently watching his roommate primp for his first club appearance in decades was not the scenario Bryce had in mind when he invited Seth to join him for a night on the town. Seth was extremely nervous, discarding one shirt after another and babbling nonsense the entire time. He was acting like this was a real date rather than two guys checking out the scene. Bryce felt the frustration building as Seth unbuttoned yet another shirt and threw it on the bed. Seth hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t have the right clothes. Most of his outfits were colorfully hideous in a Nathan Lane-South Beach sort of way. Whoever had advised him on cruise wear was either straight or holding a grudge.

Frowning, Bryce suggested, “Use one of my shirts until we can buy you some decent clothes. And wear your rattiest blue jeans,” he added.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard right. I’m not taking you to a club dressed in that.” Bryce pointed at the pile of Tommy Bahama on the bed.

“I’ll have you know I spent a lot of money on those shirts.”

“I believe you,” Bryce said, nodding. “They’re just not right.”

“Right for whom?”

“You mean what.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re trolling, Seth, and you won’t even get a nibble unless you change your look.”

“What makes you think I’m remotely interested in getting laid?”

“You’re a man, aren’t you? And available? And… well… a good ass-pounding might relieve some of that tension.”

Seth gasped. “How dare you assume you know what’s good for me?”

“Give me a fucking break. I’m not forcing you to do anything. It’s merely a suggestion. You looked more than ready to get it on when I was changing earlier,” Bryce pointed out. “Or would you like a reminder? I’ll be happy to strip to put you in the right frame of mind. Say the word, Seth.”

Stony-faced, Seth remained silent.

“Aw, come on,” Bryce cajoled. “You’re turning this into a big production it doesn’t have to be.”

“What is wrong with you?” Seth asked, finally speaking. “Are you really this jaded about love? Do you honestly believe I can forget the last twenty years with some anonymous fucking? Really, Bryce? You’ve proven to be a compassionate man. God knows anyone else would have let me fend for myself when I was so sick, but then you go and pull this crap. I have to wonder if the other day was just a fluke, and the real Bryce McFarland is a self-serving manwhore.”

Bryce could feel his temper rising. No one in his circle of friends would think to use this tone with him. Seth had a knack for getting under his skin and making him feel insignificant and worthless when all he wanted to do was live his life. Well, fuck him. He could stay in the room and recite the Rosary for all Bryce cared.

“Forget about clubbing, Seth. I’m going by myself.”

“Fine,” Seth blurted. “Be that way.”

Bryce grabbed his wallet off the nightstand and checked to make sure he had enough cash for the evening. Satisfied, he tucked it away inside his Hugo Boss leather jacket and slid the key card into the back pocket of his jeans. He shouldered past Seth, who was observing him like he was about to rape and pillage an entire village. Seth’s normal resting face was haughty and judgmental; now, he looked disgusted. Bryce wasn’t sure which was worse.

In the lobby, he asked the concierge for the name of the best gay club in town. The cab driver knew exactly where to take him, and he was walking through the door within twenty minutes. The atmosphere was vibrant, pulsating with sexy, horny men from all over the world. It was a smorgasbord of body types and complexions, rolled up into the most pleasing eye candy Bryce could ask for. It was exactly what he needed to take his mind off Seth, who’d managed to hurt him without striking a single blow.

He asked for a double shot of vodka and downed it swiftly. After signaling the bartender for a refill, he zeroed in on a flirty blond, flashing him a smile when he caught his eye. Shirtless and stuffed into skintight blue jeans hanging low enough to show off an enticing love trail, the guy looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. The jeweled barbell struck through one nipple glinted invitingly as the strobes bounced off the rhinestones. Bryce finished his second drink in two swallows and headed toward the dance floor, elbowing his way through the writhing crowd and landing two feet away from his catch, who opened his arms invitingly.