Chapter 12

He was rather amused to realise that suited him just fine.

Doug was grinning back at him, but the insouciance was deceptive. Beckett could see the way Doug’s pupils darkened and swelled, the flickers of passion bubbling like a hot spring in the dark irises. It was that strength of emotion that Beckett loved, that he craved. He glanced down his lover’s body. Doug’s T-shirt was oversized and thigh-length. Beckett just knew there was nothing else underneath it. He felt momentarily dizzy. That was Doug’s way, of course: the planting of sensual seeds in Beckett’s deepest, most lustful heart—the place where Beckett knew he wasn’t the one in control.

“You can’t wear that to the restaurant,” he said. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the hem of the shirt and the shifting, swelling shapes underneath it. Or was that just hopeful wishing? He hadn’t realised his imagination could be so vivid until he met Doug. “It’s Alan’s birthday. He and Sam are going to take exception.”