Page 34 of Mean Machine

“No. Yes.” Nathaniel studied his fork. “I seem to inadvertently have caused you to shut down again. That wasn’t my intention.”

“You shut down quite nicely yourself.”

Nathaniel rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You mean the child.”

Brooklyn put his fork down. There was no way he’d be able to eat now. “Yeah. I know you’re powerful and rich. I know you have secrets. I got that. But sometimes you treat me right and then you treat me like an asset. And I fucking hate that.”Even though I am less than an asset.But he’d halfway hoped Nathaniel might ignore it. Yeah, that would be a good start.

“I was trying to do the right thing. Give you the means to win your next fights.”

“What I need to beat Odysseus I already have. Two good fists and a heart.”

“And I meant to get you out of that gym.”

“Why? Because of Les?”

“More like Curtis Miller.” Nathaniel grimaced. “I’m bound by contracts and rules too, Brooklyn. Your status is still that of a dangerous, violent criminal, so I’m legally obliged to make sure you’re under control or the state will take back control over you. And that means the penal system. Things being as they are, I treat you like a convict in public because that’s the only accepted way to treat a convict in public. I thought you understood that in private we’re on different footing.” Nathaniel pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Ah, listen to me. I’m whining.” He stood and walked to the balustrade, gazing out over the ocean.

I thought you understood.

Apart from Les, Nathaniel was the first man in a long, long time who’d actually considered what Brooklyn must have been feeling, thinking, understanding. That he wasn’t mere furniture, or a sex toy. Something broke inside him, and he wasn’t even sure what it was. A sudden tension—and then something like relief.

He stood too and took a position near Nathaniel, but not touching, looking out over the sea. “Guess we can’t win this. You’ll always be your own master, and I won’t.”

“I’mworkingon that!” Nathaniel snapped.

Brooklyn reached over and placed a hand against Nathaniel’s tensed neck. “Relax.” He stepped behind him, deliberately crowding him against the balustrade. “Okay, so this thing sometimes fucks up citizens too.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This situation isn’t pleasant even for me.”

“Why?”

“I want you….” Nathaniel sounded like he choked on the rest of the sentence, but the first part was clearly true too. “To be out. I wish I didn’t have to have secrets. I don’t want to lie to you, Brooklyn, not even by omission.”

“Why’s that?” Brooklyn kneaded the muscles in Nathaniel’s neck, felt the man resist him at first and then gradually relax. “Because you give a fuck, right?”

Nathaniel nodded, a motion Brooklyn felt in the taut neck. And maybe, if he thought about how Nathaniel had treated Les and Curtis, that hadn’t been about pleasing Brooklyn—or showing off. Maybe this was how Nathaniel treated people. Then he genuinely wouldn’tgetwhat all this was about, right?

And who are you, Mr Subtle and Polite?

How much farther could Nathaniel move towards him? Short of falling at his feet? His hand tightened on Nathaniel’s neck. “One day I want to know why me.”

“One day I’ll tell you.” Nathaniel gave an amused snort.

“Turn.”

Nathaniel turned around. Dark blue eyes. Lighter patterns there, almost white in a certain light. He looked a little flustered, vulnerable, and maybe that was what made Brooklyn take his face in his hands and kiss him full on the lips. Nathaniel jolted, seemed torn between backing away—good luck, with the balustrade at his back—and pushing forward. Then his mouth opened and his tongue slid between Brooklyn’s lips.

Brooklyn grinned and opened his teeth to suck on that tongue, his hand dropping down to cup Nathaniel’s erection in his trousers. The man pressed against him, and Brooklyn forgot about everything else. He broke the kiss and trailed his lips down Nathaniel’s neck. “Want to take this upstairs?”

“Yes, let’s not scandalise the nanny.” Nathaniel cleared his throat and smiled at him, flirtatious, and then turned and glanced back at him—up to now, Brooklyn hadn’t been aware men could have that “come hither” glance that women had easily mastered at sixteen.

He followed Nathaniel with an odd sense of apprehension that jumped a million miles when Nathaniel closed the door behind them. The bed. Huge. Enormous. Dark wood. Same silky cotton sheets as in his own bedroom.

Nathaniel stepped forward, and Brooklyn took him by the arm. God, Nathaniel looked nervous, dark blue eyes slightly widened, hands tight.

“Get undressed.” He watched Nathaniel shed the jacket and open the fine white shirt. He concentrated on getting his own clothes off.

When Nathaniel sat down to pull off his socks, Brooklyn waited only long enough for the second sock to hit the ground and then closed in, pushed Nathaniel flat on the bed, and covered him with his own body. He opened the man’s legs farther and made him scoot up towards the head of the bed so they weren’t hanging halfway in the air.

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