Stripped Bare (13 page)

Hell, I’ve got it bad
, he thought, as he listened to the phone ringing on the other side. I’m like that bloody seventeen-year-old teenager all over again, waiting for Mikey to come home.

“Matthew Langer.”

“Matty. It’s me.” Shane waited for a reaction.

“I know. Caller ID. What’s up?” Matthew’s voice was wary.

Shane swallowed, his nerves getting the better of him. “I wanted to say I was sorry. About this morning. I’d like to maybe get together again and start the day over.” He took a deep breath, waiting for Matthew’s response. There was silence on the other end.

“Matthew? You there?”

“I’m here.” Matthew’s quiet voice sounded tired. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea, Shane. We seem to rub each other the wrong way a lot. Maybe it’s just not meant to be.”

Shane’s heart lurched in fear and he resorted to his usual foil for situations like these— levity. “Matty, we definitely rub each other in the way we’re supposed to, I promise you. Please don’t give up on us.”

Matthew sighed. “Shay, I don’t want to give up. I’m just conscious we both have skeletons in our closets. I’m damned if I know which ones of yours not to take out.”

“We can get to know each other and learn which ones we can leave in, which ones we can live with and which ones we can share. I want to share some of them with you, but I’d like to do it face to face.”

There was silence then a long sigh. “What do you have in mind?”

“My place, I guess, around eight? We can talk and see what happens from there.” Shane held his breath waiting for Matthew’s answer.

“Fine. I’ll see you at eight. Listen, I need to go. I’m meeting a friend in a little while. See you later.”

The line went dead and Shane disconnected the call and laid his mobile on the dining room table. At least Matthew was coming over. That was a good start.

Matthew arrived at eight p.m., casually dressed in chinos and a tailored shirt and as punctual as ever. Shane motioned him inside.

God, this man looked good in whatever he wore. He wore clothes like a fashion model, with his broad shoulders, lean hips and long legs and an arse that made Shane want to bite it—again. Shane’s mouth watered at the prospect of getting up close and personal with said backside again. He had to play his cards right tonight.

“Drink, Matty?”

Matthew nodded. “I’ll have a beer, Shane. I had a whiskey earlier with a friend of mine and a beer would chase it nicely.”

“Oh? What friend would that be?” As he fiddled getting the drinks, Shane pretended he wasn’t worried.

“A female friend. Julia from the office. I’ve told you about her.” Matthew smiled slightly. “She’s quite a character. She gives as good as she gets and she calls a spade a spade. You’d like her.” He grinned. “She doesn’t put up with any nonsense from me, I can tell you. At work or outside the office.”

Shane felt a sense of relief course through his body. “Yeah, I remember her. She sounds cool. I’d like to meet her one day. Compare Matthew notes.” He heard Matthew chuckle and felt a sense of relief that perhaps things would be all right. Shane passed the beer to Matthew and sat down beside him on the couch. They were both silent as they drank from the bottles.

Finally Matthew spoke. “Has the bitch left the building then?”

His voice was even, with a tinge of something Shane thought might have been amusement. Shane felt his face flush. “She’s on holiday, at least. Christ, Matty, I’m sorry. It’s just when things turn to talk about my dad and Mikey, I tend to get all agitated.”

“I noticed,” Matthew remarked drily. “I definitely hit a sore spot this morning. And I thought we were doing so well.”

Shane shifted on the couch. “About my dad. I need to tell you something about the day I left.”

Matthew nodded, his eyes watching Shane’s face intently.

Shane took a deep breath. “When my dad came into my room, without knocking and found me with my dick embedded halfway in Dean’s backside, he went crazy. He hit me so hard I went flying across the room. He kicked Dean out, and then he told me he was disgusted that his son was a faggot, a queer, and he didn’t want such an abomination in his house. He looked as if he wanted to kill me.”

He took a shuddering breath at the memory of his father’s anger and disgust. “I told him I couldn’t help what I was, that I’d known for nearly two years, but been too afraid to say anything. I didn’t know how my parents would deal with it. My dad wasn’t an out-and-out homophobe, but he had his views. Believe me, they were black and white that night. I’d never heard him so mad.” His voice trembled.

Shane had thought he was over the hate some people felt for men who loved other men. His voice trailed off.

Matthew leaned forward and stroked his thumb across his hand, his eyes focused on Shane. “Go on,” he prompted. “You need to talk about this.”

Shane closed his eyes then opened them to see Matthew’s grey ones boring into his, encouraging him. “I said I couldn’t live without being who I was, and he told me then I needed to leave. So I packed a few things, went down and kissed my mum and left. My mother was in such a state, I was worried she’d have another fit if she got upset.”

He met Matthew’s puzzled look. “Mum’s suffered from epilepsy since she was a child but it was under control. I told her I was leaving for a while, that I’d be back. But I had no intention of ever going back. I was seventeen, Matty. And he threw me out for being gay. I went to Mikey’s. He got me a job as a barman in a dubious gay bar in the centre of London.” Shane hoped his next words might lighten the atmosphere. “I had to wear a bloody cowboy outfit, for God’s sake.” He waited for the reaction.

Matthew laughed.

Shane grinned. “I knew that would get your interest. Maybe we should try it one night.”

Matthew reached over and pulled Shane into his arms. “We should
definitely
try it one night,” he agreed as he stuck his tongue in Shane’s ear, causing Shane’s dick to rise towards the ceiling.

Matthew was obviously very into the cowboy story. “Matty, I’m trying to be serious,” he chuckled.

“Oh, I’m serious,” his lover murmured as he nibbled Shane’s ear. “Serious about getting you in just leather chaps and a cowboy hat. God, I want to come just thinking about it.”

“Matty, can I finish my bloody story before you fuck me senseless in your head, please?”

Matthew sighed and stopped his teasing. “Fine. Carry on, Billy the Kid.”

Shane nestled into Matthew with a low laugh. “I stayed with Mikey for about six months. In that time I managed to make enough to buy some better laptop equipment and make myself some money. Once I had that, I could afford to move out. I bought this place when I turned eighteen. Mikey and I saw each other seriously for a while, but it finally tapered off.” He shrugged. “He went to Spain on some cruise line and that was it. Probably found some cute Spaniard. He called me and told me he wasn’t coming back.”

He remembered how hurt he’d been by Mikey’s casual disappearance. He’d been Shane’s first real love. Shane blamed his father for this first heartbreak too. If he hadn’t kicked him out, he’d never have gotten involved with Mikey to the extent he had and not had his heart broken in the process. It might be a twisted logic, but it made perfect sense to Shane.

“You cared for him a lot. I can hear it in your voice. The wanker. How could anyone give you up?” Matthew’s voice was fierce. Shane raised his lover’s hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles.

“I was a needy eighteen-year-old kid. He got tired of it, I guess. I threw myself into work, learned more about my craft, studied, went to night classes. I just wanted to forget about him. I kept in touch with my mother, seeing her every now and then outside of the house. She told me my father was getting over things and that he wanted to speak to me.” His voice fell quiet. “But she didn’t see his face when he hit me. She didn’t hear the disgust in his voice. My own father couldn’t bear the sight of me.”

Matthew leaned forward and cradled Shane’s face in his hands. “He was an arsehole,” he said roughly. “You didn’t deserve that, babe, and I can see how it would upset you now to dredge it all up.”

He kissed Shane and Shane fell into the kiss like a drowning man being given an oxygen mask. This was what he wanted—Matty’s lips on his, his hands on his body and his closeness. Telling Matthew had been a good idea.

Matthew pulled away, leaving Shane bereft and extremely horny. He hoped that was going to get sorted soon.

Matthew laughed. “This is one heck of a relationship we’ve started, Shay, saying sorry to each other all the time. We’re like a couple of bitches.” His lover smiled to take the sting out of his words. He waved a hand around the very trendy St. James’s apartment. “So this is all paid for by your hacking and escorting talents? You must be very good at what you do.” He grinned. “I can vouch for the one but not the other.”

Shane fidgeted and saw Matthew regarding him with narrowed eyes. Shane flushed again. His boyfriend seemed to be becoming adept at spotting his tells.

Matthew stroked his chin. “I’m thinking the answer to that one is a no then? So how did you pay for all this luxury and that sexy clothing I love so much?”

Shane mumbled something under his breath.

Matthew cocked his head in query. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. You must have had something in your mouth and it wasn’t me.”

“I stole it, all right? I hacked into my dad’s offshore accounts and took enough money to set myself up. The bastard had more than enough and he could spare it.”

Matthew didn’t look very surprised at that admission. “I see. Well. I expected some dodgy admission, but this one’s a doozy. How much did you steal? So I know how much proceeds of crime I might have to defend you for if anyone ever tries to arrest you.”

Shane was scornful. “They won’t find me. My dad’s computer system was filled with holes, seriously flawed. I bet a kindergarten kid could have gotten in—”

“How much, Shane?”

There was a long pause. “Three million pounds.” Shane scowled. “A lot less than I wanted to take, but I knew if I took any more he’d definitely never stop looking for the culprit. Three mill to him was chump change.”

At the look of incredulity on Matthew’s face Shane chuckled, reached out and pushed Matthew’s jaw closed. “You look like a bloody goldfish trying to take in air, Matty. Not very fetching.”

“Three million fucking pounds?” Matthew’s voice was disbelieving.

Shane nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. “Uh-huh. So you, my friend, are bonking your very own millionaire. And your language is becoming atrocious, Langer. You want to watch that.”

Now that the admission was out in the open, Shane was enjoying the reaction it had caused in his still gobsmacked lover. He waved a hand at the flat around them.

“I paid cash for this place. The rest of the money is in its own offshore account earning me interest. No one raised an eyebrow. They tried to find the money. I watched them scurrying about like ants for about six months after I took it. But they never found anything. They didn’t suspect it was me because of course, I was just the queer son with no discernible talents other than sticking my dick where it didn’t belong.” His voice grew bitter. “And my dad’s never bothered to find me, never come looking. He didn’t care much I suppose.”

He reached out and tousled Matthew’s hair, who was still staring at him.

“I can’t believe this,” the lawyer said dazedly. “Shane, you stole a fortune of money from your own father?”

“Oh get over it, Matty. The man is a prick.” Shane picked up an apple from the bowl on the coffee table and crunched into it. Juice dribbled down his chin and he wiped it absently. “My dad has probably made more than that in the past week. He’s still out there taking over the world. He’s in Russia at the moment, tomorrow, Asia, the next day, the moon.”

He glanced at Matthew. “I have investments. I live well but I’m not crazy with it, or I’d have a bloody Ferrari. But honestly, it’s more for my old age than anything. I have a couple of places I support with funding, like the shelter on Knights Street for the rent boys and a couple of the abuse homes for battered men and women. But I’m pretty good with it actually. I don’t want to go crazy and get any alarm bells ringing. Someone somewhere might still be looking for it. I know it’s been a while but I still like to be cautious.”

He stood and leaned into Matthew, planting a kiss on top of his head. “Now you know what I got up to.” He grinned. “It’s getting late, lover and I fancy a shower. Give me a minute and you can join me if you like.” He winked wickedly and disappeared, leaving Matthew still sitting on the couch looking as if the sky had fallen. Shane hoped he wouldn’t be too long following him into the bathroom. He had a problem that really needed resolving.

Monday morning Matthew was sitting in his office, reading over some documents. He was still shell-shocked recalling the conversation of yesterday and wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into with a millionaire who thought he could just take what he wanted. He’d also noticed that in their last conversation Shane had seemed to be very au fait with his father’s movements and wondered what that was all about. Was Shane still taking the man’s money or was he simply curious about his father and keeping tabs on him?

He was glad Shane had shared his story. Matthew couldn’t imagine the pain and hurt he must have gone through having his own father kick him out because of his sexuality. Matthew had encountered problems with his being gay before, but at least he’d always had his family to back him up. His mobile rang. He picked it up. “Matthew Langer.”

“You little bastard.” The words spat venomously down the phone made the lawyer sit up in shock.

“Walter? What the hell? What’s your bloody problem?”

“What did you do, you little fag? Where the hell is my money?” For a moment, Matthew imagined this was Shane’s father calling him about his three million missing pounds. He gave himself a mental shake as he spoke curtly into the phone. “Walter, what the hell are you talking about? How the hell do I know what you did with your bloody money?”