Page 43 of Companion Required
“Well, I am, really. Without the sex. Shit, maybe we should get married.”
Kieran warmed inside when Kennedy laughed aloud. Putting the straw to his lips, he sucked at the cocktail before becoming serious again.
“I should have wised up by now. The same thing happened the last time we all met up. Leonard’s birthday party, I think it was. He had some new guy with him then, too. Ben or Bob. Remember this bloke holding court in the kitchen, going on very loudly in front of everyone about how I fuck with people’s lives. And how I would probably die alone and single—a sad, lonely old man, with no friends and nobody to take care of me.”
“Boo-hoo.”
“Exactly. I’d been standing outside, but barged in at that point and told them all that when that particular eventuality comes along, at least I’ll be able to afford the best drugs and be able to hire a drop-dead gorgeous gay male nurse to be at my beck and call—”
“Kennedy,” Kieran interrupted. “Don’t want to pee in your iced tea, but Patrick just walked in.”
“Where?” asked Kennedy, sharply, darting his head up and peering around like a frightened ferret.
“Ten o’clock. Side door.”
“Shit. Sit in front of me.”
“What?”
“Sit in front of me. You’re supposed be my bloody boyfriend, remember?”
Rather than sitting in front, Kieran perched himself behind Kennedy, squashed up against the man’s back, his knees on either side. For a second, Kennedy froze, before he released an exasperated sigh while shaking his head. Peering over Kennedy’s right shoulder, Kieran could see Patrick squinting around the room, trying to get accustomed to the dim lighting. Kieran had no doubt he had come looking for someone, and it wasn’t difficult to guess who.
“Quick,” Kennedy hissed over his shoulder. “Kiss me.”
“What? I am not fucking—”
“Five hundred. I’ll give you an extra five hundred pounds. Please!”
“Shit. Turn your face to me, then.”
Kennedy turned halfway, while Kieran craned forward and closed the distance between them, crushing their lips together. When Kieran first leaned in, he expected the man’s lips to be firm, solid even, certainly not so soft and pliable. Before the thought had a chance to take hold, Kennedy opened his lips and…whoa. Moist warmth filled his mouth as their tongues collided, Kieran tasting the sweet cola and sharp bite of spirits in Kennedy’s mouth. Part of his brain knew they were faking, but the sudden contact fired up his synapses, tingling his nerve endings, stoking his heartbeat and reaching all the way down to his groin. Within seconds he was no longer pretending, but throwing himself into the kiss, hungry after days of zero physical contact, his body on sexual autopilot. When he tilted his head to take in more of Kennedy’s mouth, the man beneath him rumbled with pleasure, the most simple yet carnal of sounds, which set Kieran’s blood hammering through his veins and his erection straining against his shorts, nudging Kennedy’s back. He barely heard the angry voice growing louder and repeating over and over, the same mantra that kept pace with the blood pounding through his brain—Ken, Ken, Ken.
“Ken! For fuck’s sake!”
Kennedy pulled his face away and, for a split second, stared aghast at Kieran before slowly turning his attention to the voice.
“I have no idea what game you’re trying to play,” said Patrick, towering over them, his hands on his hips, “but you’re not fooling anyone.”
Kieran could see the anger in Patrick’s face but barely acknowledged the words coming out of his mouth. Thoughts of the kiss and his reaction to the encounter still shimmered through his slowly calming body, confusing the hell out of him.
“We need to talk. But not in front of that,” said Patrick, nodding at Kieran. Finally, his conscious mind and his body began to coalesce, his annoyance sharpening at this man who had just reduced him to something inanimate.
“You want me to stay?” Kieran whispered into Kennedy’s ear.
Kennedy said nothing, continuing to stare up at the man.
“No, he wants you gone, you little prick. Go up on deck and play with the other children. Leave the grown-ups to talk grown-up things.”
“Kennedy?” asked Kieran, a little louder.
Still no reaction.
“Don’t you know when to take a hint, kid? Just get the fuck away and leave us alone, will you?”
“Kennedy!” barked Kieran, angry now, shaking Kennedy’s shoulder and startling him out of whatever reverie had taken him.
“Go back to the cabin,” said Kennedy, his voice soft and odd. Then over his shoulder, “Please. I’ll come and join you soon.”
When Kieran peered up, Patrick stood leaning back slightly with his arms folded, a smug grin on his face. Cold anger and embarrassment swept through Kieran as he struggled to his feet. Standing still for a moment, staring at the top of Kennedy’s head, he had been about to fire back something caustic at Patrick. But what was the point?
He’d been dismissed.
Instead, he turned around and headed out of the door without a backwards glance.
Enough already.
