Six Degrees of Lust (36 page)

costumes as kids, but those were still details that kept adding up to

the knowledge he already had of Mac. It was still a conversation

he hadn’t intended to have, regardless of the fact it took place

mostly electronically.

On the phone they talked about current news, global warming,

and even the Pope, expressing their opinions on every subject

that came up. And the worst part was Sam knew he was letting

Mac get away with shit that he didn’t care for, but somehow it felt

okay to share a few things with the guy. He figured that as long

as he kept it under control there was no real danger in giving the

kitten some basic information, if that’s what made him happy,

and in the end got Sam to enjoy that fabulous body of his.

That reminded him, it was time he made his reservation.

Sam pulled up his favorite travel site on his computer, looked

through a few flights and five minutes later he was booked. He

checked his watch to make sure it wasn’t too early to call Tex,

then speed dialed him. The ringing went on and on, and he was

getting ready to leave a message when Mac finally answered.

“Hello, sexy guy.”

He sounded groggy and Sam looked at his watch again. It

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255

was a little after two. Working night shifts, it was normal for Mac

to sleep through the morning, but usually he was out and about

around eleven.

“Slept through your alarm?” he asked, ignoring that tingling

sensation he got in the pit of his stomach every time Mac called

him “sexy guy” or “darlin’” or even “asshole.” The word didn’t

really make a difference as long as it was Mac saying it.

The sound of sheets being ruffled around came clear through

the receiver. “Got home around five.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just got an unexpected visitor when I was leavin’ work

and ended up gettin’ home later than usual.”

Sam gripped his phone so hard he thought he might break it.

“I see.”

“Right.” Mac’s deep chuckle did even more twisted things

to his stomach. “You’re probably thinkin’ I forgot about our

agreement and went home with some guy.”

“I’m not thinking any such thing.”

“Well, in any event, I didn’t.” Sam heard the toilet being

flushed and then water running in the sink. He closed his eyes at

the intimacy of it all, even though it was nothing but a guy going

to the john. “Travis showed up at the bar last night and we got

into an argument in the parking lot.”

“Travis?” Sam repeated carefully.

“You remember the name, right? My ex?” He didn’t say

anything else for a few seconds. Sam waited while he brushed his

teeth. “Must’ve gotten the name and address from my mother

on the fourth. I told you I ran into him on my way out of my

parents’ didn’t I?” He laughed a little, and there was something

in Mac’s laugh that Sam didn’t like. Was it longing for what he

could have had with Travis? Regret he didn’t fight for his man at

the time? “I wouldn’t be surprised if she asked him to come see

me and talk me out of my gayness. I mean, is that fuckin’ ironic

or what?”

256 Taylor V. Donovan

It was, to say the least. That woman had some nerve to disown

Mac for his sexuality, but to send the coward who’d broken his

heart to talk some sense into him was a goddamn joke.

“It definitely is.”

Sam had placed the first of their agreed upon phone calls the

Tuesday after Mac returned from what he called his big Coming

Out weekend. He’d sounded a little crestfallen and before he

could stop himself, Sam had asked what was wrong. The events,

as well as the pain, had still been very much fresh in Mac’s

memory and maybe because of that, or because he was a talker,

he’d told Sam about his family being jerks but his best friend

being totally cool with it.

Deep down he liked to believe Mac told him because he

needed to talk about it and trusted him a little, and Sam was glad

he had. Sam would rather not get laid for three years straight

than admit this to the guy, but that was the one subject he’d never

give Mac shit over. If he needed to talk about being accepted

or rejected and how that made him feel, Sam would listen every

single time. Guys like them needed to stick together and support

each other in a world that was still mostly against their kind,

right? It was Sam’s good deed of the year.

“So what happened?”

“Abridged version? He wanted to go somewhere to talk in

private and I told him to go fuck himself. Took some convincin’

but he finally did.”

Sam wanted to know what kind of convincing. And why was

he getting an abridged version when he wanted the long, full of

details one?

“Anyway, I couldn’t care less about Travis comin’ over. Any

specific reason why you called or just to chit chat a bit? Am I

rubbing off on you?”

Sam didn’t answer. He believed Mac when he said he didn’t care

about his ex, but Sam did. He cared so much about that dickhead

coming out of nowhere and sniffing around the kitten that he

was feeling downright homicidal. He’d never been particularly

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257

good at sharing anything, and apparently that included friends

with benefits.

“Darlin’?

“I called to let you know I booked my flight and hotel,” he

finally said. “I’m taking the Red Eye Friday night and coming

back Sunday.”

“Red Eye again?”

“Yup.” He didn’t trust either his mother or his sister enough

to leave Nicky alone with them for too long, and he couldn’t ask

Logan to babysit all the time.

Of course he didn’t say any of that.

“At what time will you be landing in Houston?”

“Three-forty-nine AM.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“I can take a cab to the hotel.”

“Yeah, but see, I’ve this fantasy of gettin’ blown in my truck.”

Mac’s voice dropped to that impossibly low decibel Sam now

knew meant he was having seriously naughty thoughts, and his

own prick reacted in tandem. “Are you game?”

“Count me in,” he said, shifting this side and the other in his

chair. “I gotta get back to work.” Looking down at his hard on,

he took a deep breath and finally asked. “Can we, you know…

Skype?”

It had been his idea to get Mac to put shows on for him, and

although they’d both done so a few times already, Sam still found

it difficult to ask for it. Maybe it was because he never asked

anyone for anything, but most likely because it still freaked him

out that watching Mac jack himself off gave him more pleasure

than any sex he’d had in the past several years.

“If you don’t mind that it’s Wednesday and you have to work

in the morning, I’ll be home around three-thirty.”

“It’s a date.”

He disconnected the call before Mac could say anything

258 Taylor V. Donovan

else, and spent the next ten minutes alternately talking down his

erection and himself out of a panic attack after his Freudian slip.

August 3, 2009

New York City

Dinner was a rather informal affair at Maison Shaughnessy.

With Sandy almost permanently living in her bedroom, it was

up to Sam to make sure his nephew was fed. They ate a lot

of take out, but at least three times a week he managed to get

home on time to prepare the food himself. Although his culinary

repertoire was tragically limited, he looked forward to cooking.

Nicky always offered to help, and they ended up doing some

serious bonding in the kitchen.

Tonight the house special was chicken parmesan over

spaghetti and the topic was hockey boot camp. Nicky was very

serious about the sport, and Sam’s brother-in-law had encouraged

him. He’d probably done it to toughen up the boy.

This year, instead of sending him to military camp like his

parents always did, Sam had decided to let Nicky enjoy his time

off doing whatever he felt like doing, but also gave him two

weeks of intensive hockey summer camp. It’d cost him an arm

and a leg, but it was money well spent if only to get Nicky to

relax a little and just be a boy and enjoy himself. Life shouldn’t be

so serious at twelve.

He had consulted his sister about the hockey camp before

even looking into it, but Sandy never gave him an opinion one

way or the other. At the end Sam made the decision alone, just

like he’d been doing on all things Nicky from the moment they’d

come home with him.

The extra responsibility that had fallen into his lap wasn’t an

issue for him. He had his nephew’s best interests at heart, plus

Sam had been the type to take charge and do what needed to be

done for as far back as he could remember, so he could deal.

260 Taylor V. Donovan

But shouldn’t Sandy be looking after her son? Shouldn’t she

be the one making sure he had everything he needed? Shouldn’t

she be talking to Sam about whatever it was that happened in that

house so that they could get the boy some professional help, if

that’s what he required? What she required?

Sam resented her saying he was overreacting when he insisted

they get a restraining order against Steven, and her reluctance

to deal with the situation was grating on his nerves. But he

kept trying to get through to her because even though she had

changed, she was still his little sister and he loved her. He needed

to get her to open up, to see there was no reason for her to live

under her husband’s fist. If he didn’t, she’d end up going back

and taking her son with her, and Sam didn’t have any legal rights

to keep her from doing so.

That particular scenario gave him nightmares on a regular

basis. How the hell was he going to be able to protect Nicky if he

wasn’t around the boy?

He tasted the sauce and glanced at his nephew, who at

the moment was setting the small kitchen table with more

concentration than necessary. Dead giveaway he was worried

about something, so it probably wasn’t the best time for him to

try yet again to get Nicky to open up about his father.

The other issues, such as the kid’s love for eyeliner, the case

of hero worship for Logan that Sam suspected could eventually

turn into a crush, and even his closeness with his new friend, Sam

had decided to leave alone. Sam just hoped his nephew knew he

could talk to him whenever he was ready.

Sam cut some garlic bread and placed it on the table along

with the bowl of pasta and fresh parmesan cheese. “Where’s

Sasha tonight?”

He grabbed some ice tea from the fridge, not surprised when

Nicky just took his seat and didn’t answer. The blond teen had

become a very unpredictable, albeit permanent, fixture in their

lives since that afternoon back in June when they convinced him

to go with them for burgers. Or maybe he should say since that

afternoon when Sasha had let them convince him, because it was

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261

more than clear the boy only did what he wanted to do.

Neither Logan or Sam ever knew when he was going to show

up at the Center or Sam’s place, but he always did. Didn’t talk

much either, but listened carefully to everything that was said

around him. His words he saved for “Nikolai,” and Nicky was

very protective of him, because even after relentless bribing on

the adults’ part, they still didn’t know where the kid lived, with

whom, or whether he went to school or had a job.

“Have some salad first,” he said when the boy went straight

for the pasta and chicken. “And don’t bitch about it, okay? It’s

just lettuce and tomatoes.” That made Nicky smile, and he even

seemed to relax a little. “What’s on your mind, champ?”

“I was thinking…” He cut one slice of tomato into twenty

little pieces and never looked up from his plate, but he got it out.

“Can you get me a cell phone before I go to hockey camp?”

“Is that it?” Sam was disappointed, but not too much to let

that opening pass. “Why before camp?”

“So that Sasha can call me.”

“Why can’t you call him when you get your phone time?”

“Because.” Nicky bit his lip and finally looked at him. “It’s

best if he calls me.”

“Best for whom?” Sam cut a huge piece of chicken and put it

in his mouth, careful not to show how much he wanted to hear

this.

“Sasha.”

“Why’s that?”

“I can’t say.” Nicky’s mumble was so low he could barely hear

him.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” It was hard, but

he managed to wait for a few minutes before trying one more

time. “Come on, Nick. What’s the big secret?”

“Are you gonna make me tell you?”

Sam played with his food, trying to figure out what to say. He

262 Taylor V. Donovan

could crack hard-ass criminals in under five minutes during an

interrogation, but it was taking him weeks to do the same with a