Hazard and Somerset, Gregory Ashe [ebook reader with internet browser TXT] 📗

what size is this?”

“Small.”

“Ree.” Somers grunted, twisting, his torso rippling with the movement as he struggled to drag the wet cotton over his head. “This is ridiculous. This is—”

Then with a final shimmy, he managed to tug the shirt into place.

“Hot,” Hazard said.

And it was hot. The wet cotton was mostly transparent, clinging to every inch of Somers’s body, accentuating the ripples of his abs, swelling around his biceps, and revealing the dark lines of ink that encircled his torso. Hazard felt drunk on the sight of him.

Somers, of course, just glanced down at himself and shrugged.

“Barefoot?” Hazard said.

“Give me your boat shoes.”

“They’re not your size.”

“You’re not a behemoth, Ree. They’re a little big, but they’ll do.”

“And what am I supposed to do? Squeeze into your shoes?”

“God, no. You’ll stretch them out. Just walk around in your socks for fifteen minutes.”

“No fucking way. I—”

A bell rang out in the main room.

“Ree, there’s another problem.”

“I know: the second outfit. I’m on it.”

“Yeah, um.” Somers jerked open the door and had one foot outside as he said, “It’s got to be underwear.”

“Ok. So you strip down to your underwear.”

“Ree, you just watched me change.”

“And?” Then Hazard felt that heat in his gut clamp down, and he had to swallow a groan. “John.”

Somers gave a guilty shrug.

“Really?” Hazard said. “Commando?”

“I look good commando.”

“You’re going to break my fucking mind. If that asshole realizes—”

The bell dinged again, and Somers sprinted out of the room.

Hazard followed more slowly.

How in the hell was he going to get underwear?

V

OCTOBER 20

SATURDAY

7:57 PM

THE PROBLEM WASN’T JUST getting the underwear. Even if Hazard could find somebody who would strip off and rent his clothing for the rest of the show, the problem was that wearing somebody else’s underwear just felt wrong to Hazard. He realized other people might like it. He might even like to see John in a pair of his own boxer briefs. But a stranger? Not a chance.

Hazard prowled the room. He went back to the kid at the bar, who had dropped the vest and was prancing back and forth in just his underwear now, serving drinks as the next round began.

“Guess it was a good idea,” Hazard said.

The kid just grinned and jerked a thumb at the overflowing tip jar.

“What’s your name?”

“Hold on, Nico’s almost up.”

“Your name.”

“Barrett.”

“Ok, Barrett. I need some underwear.”

“Uh.”

“Not yours.”

Over the speakers, Will announced, “Gentlemen, we are now beginning round two. These eligible bachelors will show you a different side of themselves. Let’s give another big round of applause to Nico Flores.”

Barrett applauded so hard it was a miracle his hands didn’t pop off.

“Cool it for five seconds, please,” Hazard said. “Does Will keep anything like that here?”

“Huh?”

“Kid, you’re cute, but I’m running out of patience. Underwear. Does Will keep some on hand for, Christ, I don’t know, accidents? Something like that.”

“I don’t . . .” He trailed off, his jaw dropping.

Fine, thought Hazard. Fine. He had to at least look. He had to at least see the competition.

Nico had lost the tank and traded his shorts for an even skimpier pair. During the break, he had applied glitter to his torso, and now he sparkled as he strutted across the stage. Nico was about as close to physical perfection as one guy could get—the exception being Somers, of course. And now, wearing less than two inches of lycra, Nico was showing everybody what he had to offer.

Hazard wanted to roll his eyes so hard they fell out of his head, but instead, he turned back to the bar. “Barrett.”

“Underwear.”

“Barrett!”

“Yes. Yeah.” He dragged his gaze down and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Did you really date him?”

“Yes. Try to focus: I need underwear.”

“I don’t know, man. I’m new.”

“Useless,” Hazard muttered.

Barrett had already disappeared into his private fantasies. Hazard was surprised the kid wasn’t drooling yet.

Hopping the bar, Hazard dug out the lost and found box. Nothing. Not unless he sent Somers out with a t-shirt tied around his waist. He spotted the duct tape. Or—

Or Hazard could cut the t-shirts up, tape the strips together into some sort of grunge chic underwear that Somers could wear long enough to finish the show.

Then an image hit Hazard, and it was so hot that he actually did groan, unable to keep the sound from escaping. It was so hot that, for a moment, he forgot what he was doing.

Then the asshole with the deconstructed blazer shouted at Nico, “I’m going to fuck you all the way back to the Southern Hemisphere, baby. Just keep shaking that sweet ass.”

And Hazard remembered what he was doing. He remembered why he was there. He grabbed the roll of duct tape and headed back to the stage.

VI

OCTOBER 20

SATURDAY

8:19 PM

I LOOK RIDICULOUS.”

“You look hot.”

“I look stupid.”

“You look hot.”

“I look—”

“John.” Hazard took him by the shoulders, his fingers sparking at touching bare skin, and he had to take a slow breath to keep from losing it right there. “I’m going to say this right now because when you walk out there, when those guys see you, I’m going to lose my shit. So let me say it while I’ve still got a brain.”

“Are you going to puff your chest up, shove people around, tell them who I belong to?”

“That’s just the fucking appetizer.”

“Are you going to beat people up for looking at me?”

“Maybe. That’s a lot of people, but I’m feeling motivated.”

“Are you—”

Hazard cupped Somers’s face, his thumb over Somers’s lips.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Hazard rumbled. “And I love you.”

Somers’s eyes were wet, and he blinked rapidly as he stretched up to kiss Hazard.

“Now, go out there and win this thing. You’re still in second place.”

Somers shook his ass. His basically naked ass. Then he grinned and said, “Not for long.”

When they stepped out of the private room, Hazard knew the moment the crowd saw Somers. The third round of the auction might not have started, but Somers was in plain sight, and the effect of his outfit went through the crowd like