Private Dicks

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An Excerpt From: PRIVATE DICKS

Copyright © KATIE ALLEN, 2009

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

The music hit them so loud that Rhodes felt the bass line preempting his heart’s rhythm. Scanning the writhing mass of partiers, the clichéd cage dancers hanging above the crowd and the flickering lights tangling with the artificial fog, Rhodes felt the usual mix of insecurity and anticipation, tempered by a surreal feeling. He glanced at the man next to him. He never thought he’d be in a place like this with Wash. Daydreamed about it, maybe, but never believed it could actually happen. He poked Wash to see if he was just a figment of his horny imagination.

“Ow!”

Rhodes saw his partner’s lips move but couldn’t hear anything. Wash felt real enough. He jumped when Wash poked him back—hard.

“Bitch!” Rhodes rubbed his arm. Wash must have read his lips too, because he grinned.

As Rhodes looked around the club again, planning the best route for reconnaissance, W
ash nudged him—gently this time—and started making his incomprehensible hand signals. Rolling his eyes, Rhodes just grabbed one of Wash’s wildly waving hands and hauled the man after him into the crowd.

The surreal feeling hit Rhodes again as Wash’s rough palm rubbed against his own but he pushed it to the back of his mind. It was time to work. Tugging Wash behind him, he cut through the crowd, heading toward the raised bar curving into one corner of the club. One empty barstool remained and he nudged Wash onto it before turning to catch the bartender’s eye and ordering a couple of beers.

Wash was saying something.

“What?” Rhodes leaned in, tipping his head close to Wash’s face so he could hear.

“Guess I’m the bottom then,” Wash repeated.

Pressing back a grin, Rhodes moved his mouth close to his partner’s ear. “You bet your sweet ass you are.”

Wash pulled back a little to look at Rhodes. “You’re…feisty tonight,” he yelled over the music.

That brought Rhodes up short. He was acting oddly, almost giddy even, and he knew why—he was pretending that this date with Wash was real.

“Hey!” Wash yelled, tugging Rhodes’ head down again so he could talk more quietly and still be heard. “Don’t get all stiff on me now. I didn’t mean that in a bad way. It’s kind of…I mean, well…”

Cocking an eyebrow, Rhodes looked at Wash curiously. Wash was never tongue-tied—and was he actually blushing? Looking closer, Rhodes definitely saw a red flush darkening Wash’s brown skin.

Fuck! Rhodes thought, blinking in amazement. Wash is embarrassed!

“Don’t look at me like that,” Wash laughed, swatting at his partner’s shoulder and jerking on Rhodes’ collar to bring his ear to his mouth again. “This is fun, okay? Pretending to be your boyfriend is really, I don’t know—exciting.” On the last word, Wash leaned in so his mouth brushed Rhodes’ ear.

His heart thumping, Rhodes froze, trying to process his partner’s words and the brief caress. Had it been accidental or not? Was Wash actually flirting with him or just getting into character for the charade they were acting out tonight?

Either way, Rhodes knew he might not get another chance like this. The bartender slid their beers toward them and Rhodes handed him a couple bills without looking away from Wash. Cupping the back of his partner’s head, he tipped Wash’s face closer, switching their positions so his lips could brush Wash’s ear.

“Let’s dance,” Rhodes rumbled, making sure that the breath of his words blew against the sensitive inner shell of Wash’s ear. “Dance floor is central—a good place to check out the club.” When Wash shivered beneath the touch, Rhodes forced back a triumphant grin.
Acting or not, his supposedly straight partner felt something—and Rhodes was going to take crazy advantage of that fact.