Page 42 of Pretty Mess

He shakes his head. “It is like feeding time at the zoo. You should have an enclosure next to the meerkats.” He finds the room service menu on the bedside table and tosses it to me. “Order whatever you want.”

I nod and then hesitate. “Shall I order you something?” He’s too thin, and sometimes I get the sense that his energy is burning him from the inside. He needs a good meal and some peace, in my opinion. Not that he’s ever asked for that.

He climbs out of the bed. “No, I have to go.”

“Really?” The disappointment in my voice is far too stark, and he immediately looks uncomfortable, so I hasten to rectify my mistake. “We could go again. You’re paying a lot of money for my arse. I might as well make sure you go away happy with it.”

A smile plays on his lips. “Iamvery happy with it. I could write odes to your bottom.”

“Hope they go better than Jake from the Red Lion who told me I had an arse like an underripe grapefruit.”

“What poets walk amongst us,” he says very seriously.

I laugh and when I meet his gaze, I find him watching me, his eyes dark and busy.

“You okay?” I ask. “Do you want another round?”

“We’re not at the Pig and Partridge. Do please stop referring to sex as a round.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll pack my thesaurus in my underpants for our next meeting.”

“Please do so.”

He walks to the chair and starts to pull on his clothes. I take a second to mourn the loss of that body to my eyes but then get busy with the room service menu. “Oh yummy. They’ve got macaroni cheese.”

He’s not looking at me, but I see his mouth quirk. “Isn’t that on the children’s menu?”

“Yes, but they do an adult one if you ask them. I have to warn you, though, that it has truffle in it, which isn’t exactly the point of macaroni cheese. It gave me quite a nasty shock,” I say sadly.

His lip twitches. “I will endeavour to remember that.”

I wave my hand in a regal gesture, reaching for the phone. I quickly order the macaroni, along with some garlic bread, and cheesecake for dessert. I add a chocolate milkshake, for good measure and then end the call.

Cormac’s staring at me.

“What?”

“Is that all for you?” he says wonderingly.

I laugh. “I’m a growing boy, Mac.”

“Not grown enough to remember that my actual name is Cormac. If I’d wanted to be called ‘Mac,’ I would have asked you to do so.”

I fold my hands over my belly, loving the way he can’t help but look at my body. “Maybe it’s something you’re subliminally asking for—” I pause. “—Mac.”

He watches me, his eyes dark with renewed interest, and heat thrums in my belly. I throw off the sheets and spread my legs. “Do you have to go?”

He makes a jerky movement towards the bed and my cock perks up but then he stops, and I watch as he visibly buttons himself up. “Yes, I do,” he says gravely. “I have work to do and this interlude is very over.”

I’m disappointed, but I make myself grin at him and pull the covers back over me. “More macaroni for me then. Until next week?” He nods, and my interest sharpens as he hesitates. “You alright?”

“Yes.” He clears his throat. “It’s just that I’m rather bored of this hotel.”

I blink. “Goodness, that is aterribleproblem. Would you like to meet in another one, then?”

He wanders to the window and pulls the curtain back, looking out at the stunning view of Tower Bridge. “I am a private man, Wes.”

“Really?” He glares at me, and I snort. “Sorry. It’s just it’s not exactly a newsflash.”