Page 35 of Waiting for a Prince
Sam grinned. “You heard me. Would you do him?”
Mark gaped. “‘Do’ as in ‘fuck’?” Sam nodded. “Oh,fuck, no.”
Sam’s eyebrows shot skyward. “What’s wrong with him?”
Mark stared incredulously. “Sam, he looks like he’s not even old enough to be in thisbar, let alone my bed.” He took another mouthful of beer.
“Okay, then, what abouthim?” Sam indicated another guy seated in a group by the window. Mark gave him a quick glance, taking in the heavyset man in a leather biker jacket, a tattoo rising above the neck of his T-shirt and curling up his nape.
“Not really into bikers, but tats? Now, that’s a different matter. Still, he’s not my type, to be honest.”
Sam’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Oh, go on, tell me.”
Mark cocked his head. “Tell you what?”
“Your dream guy—what would he look like?”
It was Mark’s turn to swallow.
Oh hell…
Sam arched his eyebrows. “Ooh, now you havemeintrigued.” He nudged Mark conspiratorially. “C’mon, tell me.”
Mark picked up his glass and took several large mouthfuls of beer before placing the glass down on the table.
I can’t believe I’m going to do this….
He took a deep breath.
“Good sense of humour.”
Sam snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re not writing an ad for a lonely-hearts column here. What would helooklike? Details, details…”
Mark closed his eyes, his mind picturing Sam that Monday morning on Yaverland beach. “Tall, over six feet. Skinny, but with nice abs and toned legs and arms. Short, dark hair. Blue eyes. Nipple piercings. Tattoos.” What came to mind was their first day nude on the beach. He swallowed. “Long, thick cock. Tight arse.”
Sam’s breathing caught, and Mark opened his eyes. Sam was staring at him, his eyes wide.
“Oh my God.” The colour slid from Sam’s cheeks. Then those gorgeous blue eyes narrowed. “Well, now it all makes sense.” His lips pressed together tightly.
Mark’s heart stuttered in his chest. “What?”
Sam’s gaze had turned cool. “And here was me, thinking you were concerned about me, worrying that I wasn’t happy with Rebecca. Well, now I know whatthatwas all about, don’t I?”
“W-what are you talking about?” Mark bit his lip, blinking rapidly.
“Oh, comeon, Mark,” Sam said, his voice a deep rumble. “First you try to get me to break up with Rebecca, and then it all comes out that I’m basically your fantasy guy.”
Mark stared at Sam, aghast, unable to move.
Sam speared him with an intense stare. “At least you have the decency not to deny it. Thatwasme you just described, wasn’t it?” Sam tilted his head. “Was that the plan, then? I ditch Rebecca, and then you make a play for the straight guy?”
Mark gasped. “Oh God, no, it… it wasn’t like that, I swear.” A sudden coldness spread through his body, wrapping itself around his heart that was pounding so loudly, he swore Sam could hear it.
Sam got to his feet. “Well, at least I know where I stand. And here was me thinking you and I were friends.” He grabbed his denim jacket from the seat beside him. “Bye, Mark. Thanks for the drinks. It was certainly an informative evening.” Sam started to move toward the door, but Mark grabbed his arm.
“Sam, please, you’ve got this all wrong. Iwasconcerned about you, believe me.” Mark’s eyes pleaded with Sam. “Don’t go. Please.”
Sam shrugged off his arm impatiently. “Sorry, but right now I can’t stand to be anywhere near you.” He swallowed, and just for a second, something flickered in his eyes. Then it was gone. “Bye,Mark.” He walked toward the door, wavering slightly on his feet, and out into the street.
