Unobtainable (9 page)

~Dyson~

Brice Taggerty, better known as Tag, my best friend, had been MIA since the day of the wedding disaster. That’s what I was calling it now. Seems he hooked up with one of Rebecca’s cousins, Rita. They had some kind of a whirl-wind romance and that’s why he wasn’t answering my text messages. The guy had a sexual appetite like no other, he bedded more women in a week than I could count on my fingers and toes.  His moto was fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em and he was actually proud of his endeavors.

Tag was tall, mousy blond, not overly built and smolderingly handsome. He was the ultimate bad boy, every crowd had to have one, and he was mine. He was and is a true ladies man and attracts females like bees to honey, they swarmed to him. Tag is my complete opposite and the best friend I could ask for.

We met in grade school, did everything together and eventually ended up attending the same college. At a kegger during our first year of college, Tag got himself in a bit of a fix by trying to get with the hottest co-ed on campus, who just happened to be the girlfriend of the captain of the football team, who was attempting to kill him when I walked around the corner. Tag may have all the looks and god knows he’s hung like a donkey, but because of years of being bullied I was built to take on even the most menacing force and pummeled the guy into the ground before he was able to get a single punch in. I guess you could say Tag had been indebted to me ever since. We had always been inseparable friends. Well, unless there’s a woman involved, or in close proximity.

Tag: Sorry about your luck, wish I had been there for you.

Me: Bullshit, you were too busy getting laid to give a fuck about my problems.

Tag: Not true. Your words pain me. So you finally bagged the office stud, how’s that working for you?

Me: I told you it’s not like that, he only did it to help me out. Don’t read anything into it.

Tag: Aren’t you going to invite me over to meet the hubs?

Me: Dinners at six don’t be late and play nice.

Tag: I always play nice and don’t talk to me about being late. See you then.

My stomach growled so loudly it was probably heard down the hall. It was nearly three and I had obviously missed lunch and hadn’t eaten breakfast this morning either. Harley’s kiss had stayed on my mind most of the night and after brewing a pot of coffee and filling my travel mug, I beat a hasty retreat before Harley got out of his bed. He was driving me crazy, I wanted him in the worst way. I actually ached for him.

I took off my glasses and tossed them on the desk, rubbing my hands over my face to try and refresh my tired eyes. I noticed movement across the room and quickly looked over my computer screen.

Leaning with his shoulder against the doors frame, Harley stood with a playful scowl on his face.

“You fucked off early this morning,” he said, “and I know you didn’t go for lunch, is something bothering you?”

“I wanted to get a head start on my work so I could leave early. By the way, I invited Tag to come for dinner. I hope you don’t mind. He wants to meet you.”

“Of course I don’t mind. Mi casa es tu casa,” he laughed, as he circled my desk. “I brought you a burger.”

“Thanks, I’m fucking starving.” I eagerly took the burger from his hand and had it open and half devoured before he pulled out a chair and sat.

“I wanted to talk to you about last night,” he said, with his elbows on the desks edge.

“What about last night?”

“My kissing you.”

“Oh that, not a biggy,” I tried to come across like it wasn’t bothering me and hadn’t kept me awake dreaming of more.

“I don’t want to send you mixed signals, I like you and I’m somewhat attracted to you, I just can’t do relationships, I don’t have what it takes. So I don’t want you thinking that we could have something.”

Somewhat attracted?
I allowed those words, his words, to echo over and over in my head.

“What exactly
does
it take to have a relationship?” I asked, curious to understand why he was telling me this.

“A heart,” Harley quietly said.

I laughed, but he didn’t. “Are you telling me you’re heartless, like the tin man in the Wizard of Oz?”

“Dyson, all I’m capable of right now is sex. Raw no strings attached sex and I couldn’t do that to you, you’re a nice guy who deserves better.

Nice guy
. Isn’t it the nice guy who finishes last?

As the words left his mouth and collided with my ears, I proceeded to try inhaling the mouthful of burger I was chewing on and started choking. I coughed as Harley’s fist pounded my back and tears streamed over my cheeks, snot running from my nose. It was an incredibly attractive moment, not. I held my arms up in surrender once my airway was cleared and then wiped my nose and face with a napkin Harley offered.

“Jesus Dyson, don’t go croaking on me,” he said, rubbing my shoulder. “Don’t make me a widower this soon.”

“Not until the divorce is filed at least?” I joked, half-heartedly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Fire away.”

“If you have no heart,” I put my glasses back on. “Then why did you step up and help me? And don’t say because of my brothers…you’ve kissed me twice, a heartless fuck wouldn’t kiss the way you do.”

Harley shrugged as if it were no big deal and swiftly stood, he was planning a get away, but I darted to the door and closed it. He wouldn’t get away so easily.

“I wanted to know…” his brow rose.

“What did you want to know?” I egged him on.

“If you tasted as good as you look,” he grinned.

“Well that would explain the first kiss, so why did you kiss me the second time?”

“Because I discovered how soft your lips were, besides…I like the way you react when I kiss you.”

“How do I react?” I creased my brow and held my palm to his chest when he made a move to get around me.

“Like this,” Harley’s tongue moistened his lips before they made contact with mine.

If taste was a factor in the way a man kissed, Harley Cooper tasted like the most decadent assortment of sins known to man combined into one. His full lips were silky and warm and as his kiss lingered, his tongue parted my lips and stroked over mine. My cock grew hard and I could feel Harley’s semi erection push against mine. I gently let out a moan that triggered Harley’s instant retreat.

“Oh fuck,” he sighed. “I have a meeting, I have to go.”

“See you at home,” I said, holding the door as he squeezed around me.

Only capable of sex did he say? Did I say I had a problem with that idea? Did he ask? Was that what he was trying to tell me in his subtly informative way? How I was supposed to think of anything else was beyond me, but I had to get Harley out of my head and get home to start dinner. It was going to be one fucking long night.

On the menu tonight was simple fare, pulled pork on fresh buns with homemade coleslaw and kettle chips. We sat down to eat minutes after Harley walked through the door, which left uneasiness between us since his words were still ever present on my mind, try as I may to shake them. I’m sure Tag never noticed as he and Harley got to know one another and we talked about Tag’s next assignment.

As a professional photographer, he was lucky enough to travel the world to exotic locations and photograph some of the sexiest models on the planet, a job which suited him to a tee. In a few days he would be flying to Switzerland to the Piz Gloria restaurant, the one made famous by the James Bond film
On Her Majesty’s Secret Service
, to do a swimwear shoot. He was twenty eight years old and had seen most of the world and photographed it as well.

“Almost forgot,” Tag dipped his hand into his pocket and held out his fisted hand. He dropped a tiny vile into my palm and I gave him a smile.

“Thanks.”

“What is it?” Harley asked.

“Dirt,” Tag laughed. “No matter where I go, I bring home a little piece of the place to share with my best friend. That my friend, is from a wonderful little hidden inlet on the island of Molokai, we stumbled across it on a hike and spent a few very amazing hours exploring…I won’t go into details, but Gloria was afuckingmazing!”

I rolled my eyes, happy the details of Tag’s sexcapades would remain on Molokai.

“I have hundreds of these,” I passed it to Harley and watched as he shook the contents and snickered.

“That’s awesome, I would have sent a postcard or something less original. I have no imagination when it comes to gifts.”

“It’s the most dangerous gift he could give.” I gave Tag a knowing glare. “If he got caught smuggling that shit across the border in some of those foreign countries, he’d go to jail, or get beheaded or something even worse.”

“What the fuck’s worse than having my head chopped off?” Tag laughed.

“You just take stupid chances, I wish you’d be more careful.”

“You worry too much my darling,” he tittered. “I wear them around my neck, if anyone asks it’s my grandmother’s ashes.”

“Not funny, shit head.”

“I’ll have to bring by my portfolio the next time I’m over, show you all the places I’ve been,” Tag told Harley. “Dyson owns some of my best work, don’t tell me he hasn’t shown you?”

“I haven’t gotten around to unpacking everything yet,” I said, looking across the table at Harley. “Remind me later to find them. They’re in my room somewhere.”

“I will,” he said, stealing the air from my lungs with a wink.

How did Harley have me ready to run for the hills one moment and have me heated and aching for him the next? He was a dangerous craving and I was in trouble sharing an apartment with him. From the moment he had said the words
raw sex
this afternoon, he had me wanting to jump his bones, licking every square inch of him and that was just the beginning.

“Speaking of awesome, I wouldn’t mind living here,” Tag said, as he glanced around.

“It is fabulous isn’t it? I stumbled over it by accident,” Harley said. “A guy I worked with asked me to go along on an apartment hunt with him, he had no interest in this place, and I fell in love with it at first sight. It was a complete wreck. The print shop downstairs used it for storage so it was basically an empty shell. They offered me a lower rent if I agreed to fix it up and I ended up buying the building when the shop went tits up a few months later.”

“What’s down there now?” Tag asked.

“I turned it into a garage and workshop. I like to tinker with wood.”

I tittered and bit into my lower lip to suppress my laugher, there was far too much sexual innuendo in what Harley said for me to handle. Both Tag and Harley looked at me like I was a crazy man, which made me laugh all the more.

“Anyone want a beer or coffee or something?” I asked, as I started to clear the table so I didn’t make myself look more the fool than I already had.

“I have to drive,” Tag said. “But I wouldn’t mind a coffee.”

“Beer for me if you don’t mind,” Harley smiled.

“Right away,” I smiled back.

Something was different in Harley’s smile tonight. There was a mischievous sparkle, something sinful that sent a shiver and a layer of goose bumps all over my body.

“What kinds of things do you make?” Tag asked Harley.

“Mainly furniture,” Harley said. “I made my bedroom suite and this table and I’m working on a fireplace mantel for over there,” Harley nodded to the unadorned fireplace in the living room. “I wanted something sleek and modern, with curving lines and a stainless inlay.”

“Sounds like you know what you want,” Tag said, and looked over to me.

“What?” I asked, walking over and handing the boys their beverages of choice.

“Want to see?” Harley asked, as he stood.

“Hell yeah,” Tag answered, taking my hand. “You too, come on.”

The smell of a woodshop was one of the most masculine smells in the world, that and a greasy garage, and my libido was doing the happy dance. We crunched through wood shavings spread across the floor and I stood in awe staring at the mantle Harley had mentioned. It was unusual to say the least, a channel had been carved out where the inlay would sit, and I noticed the steel piece sitting on a bench.

“What is that?” I asked, as Harley held it up.

“It’s a Celtic rope, it means
Love Never Ending
,” Harley said.

“Where have I seen this?” I asked, thinking for a moment and then held up my hand. “Our wedding bands.”

My heart skipped a beat as I looked into Harley’s eyes, but he quickly looked away not saying a thing as he laid the piece back on the table and directed Tag over to something hidden under a drop cloth. He lifted it off to reveal a cradle.

“I made this for my little sister Chelsea, she’s due Christmas day,” he smiled with pride. “It will be my first nephew or niece, I can’t wait.”

That was the moment I realized I knew nothing about the man I married. I had been so wrapped up in my own world I hadn’t even bothered to ask him about his. What a selfish bastard I was.