Page 43 of Mann Hunt
The paralysis that kept his hand hovering was broken when he heard a sound. It pulsated and filled the room. He was frightened that it was so loud it would wake the sleeping giant. Charlie realised it was the sound of his own breathing.
He rushed downstairs and glanced at the clock on the wall across from his desk. It was 2:10 in the morning. He thought of calling for an Uber, but…what if Declan needed him? Hewaspretty drunk…so he texted his parents that he was working through the night on a case, then curled up on the couch in the reception room and closed his eyes.
Chapter Fourteen
Declan stood in the kitchenette, frothing milk for a latte. He deftly poured the heated milk into the espresso, even making a leaf pattern on the surface.
He made himself an Americano and carried them both into the reception area.
Charlie lay on the couch, twisted like a corpse. His hair seemed to point in ten directions at once. His mouth was open, and a trickle of drool ran across his cheek.
The clock read eight-thirty a.m.
“Good morning, princess,” Declan chirped.
“Umph,” Charlie mumbled as he twisted his head towards the sound. He absentmindedly wiped the slobber from his face, while gradually righting himself. “Ow.” He cringed, then rubbed his neck and smacked his lips as if trying to get them to make a coherent word.
“Here,” Declan said, passing him a latte. “This might help.”
“Thanks,” Charlie said as he took the cup and sipped.
Declan stood there, perfectly coiffed and dressed in a pristine white shirt and khakis.
“How…?” Charlie said, as he pointed to Declan’s hair, then shirt and pants.
“Years of practice. Now, pull yourself together. You can use the shower upstairs. Give me your shirt and I’ll iron it while you’re getting cleaned up. Your pants will be fine.”
“What’s the rush?”
“I have more questions I want to ask Katherine Mann. I texted her this morning and set up a meeting at her place at nine-thirty. After that, we’re going to meet with Sheldon Prescott.”
* * * *
Charlie locked himself in the bathroom. He’d refused to undress in Declan’s presence. There was no way Charlie was going to let Declan see him without his shirt on—especially in light of what he had seen the night before. If he took all of the muscles in his body and bundled them together, they still wouldn’t amount to one of Declan’s pecs. Charlie was a skinny torso balanced on top of a big ass and too-thick thighs. It was a sight he kept to himself.
“The iron’s hot,” Declan called out.
Charlie wrapped one towel around his waist, then a second around his shoulders. He opened the door a crack and quickly handed out his shirt before closing the door.
Charlie looked around the bathroom. It was nothing fancy. A toilet, sink and large shower. For a guy who lived on his own, Declan kept it pretty clean—thank God. Charlie couldn’t stand mouldy showers.
He turned the tap and when the water ran hot, he dropped his armour of towels and stepped in. The soap and washcloth were already wet from Declan’s earlier shower. Charlie held the cloth to his nose and inhaled. It had been up against Declan. He rubbed it all over his own body, scrubbing slowly with the cloth, eventually wrapping it around his now-erect penis and jerking off until he came. He thought about rinsing the cloth clean, then changed his mind. He hung it up where he’d found it and hoped that Declan wouldn’t wonder why he had taken so long.
After his shower, Charlie found his neatly pressed shirt on the bed. He dressed and made his way downstairs to Declan’s office.
“Here. Let’s have a look at you.” Declan looked Charlie up and down. “You clean up nice. You’ll do the company proud. Now, grab a notebook and pen and let’s go.”
Declan handed him a medium-sized plastic suitcase.
“Superhero costumes?” Charlie joked.
“Camera equipment. You’ll have to learn how to use it eventually.”
“Cool.” Charlie loved tech.
It was a half-hour drive from the office to the Mann house. Charlie chose to ride in the back seat of the van so that he could play with the camera equipment. Declan was lucky that he liked having his picture taken, because Charlie took dozens of them, close-ups of various body parts—ears were of particular interest—and profile shots, after Charlie had shifted into the front passenger seat.
“I’m pretending you’re a body found at a crime scene.”
