One Night Stand Read online

  A large bottle had arrived late in the evening on their table. Most of the other guys were away, either at the bar or dancing and mingling with other colleagues. Teddy and Marshall were the last two left sitting. The waiter explained it was a gift from Secret Santa; he’d grinned as he told them, enjoying the joke. Teddy didn’t know much about these things, but it looked like a very expensive brand. Privately, he thought they’d received it by mistake, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. He and Marshall poured themselves a glass and chinked their glasses together in a self-conscious toast.

  “Happy Christmas, Teddy,” Marshall said. “Here’s to a great year and an even better time in the next.” His voice had sounded a bit hoarse, which Teddy blamed on the late hour and having to shout conversation over the sound of the band. He’d nodded in return, guiltily letting his fingers trail over Marshall’s as they held the glasses together. The champagne tasted extraordinarily delicious, a rare treat for him! He’d savored it on his tongue, letting its fruity aroma and sparkling beauty seduce his senses. But it was obviously far stronger than he realized. By the time he poured himself another glass, Marshall had been leaning against him, a strong arm across his shoulders, a warm hip brushing against his own.

  And then what? His mind raced, his memories tumbling suddenly past as if they’d been freed from Pandora’s Box. The elevator; the corridor; the room; the bed.

  Fierce sex: greedy and athletic.

  Teddy clamped his eyes shut again. God, God, no! He daren’t look at Marshall again. He was no child, thinking that if he couldn’t see, he couldn’t be seen. But he could hope for a Christmas miracle, couldn’t he?

  The body beside him yawned, a definite waking-up noise.

  Teddy’s heart sank. No, no miracle for him. He wasn’t a child, he knew that, and he was stupid to think he wouldn’t have to face the consequences of what he’d done. Miserably, he clenched his fists at his sides. To hell with it. So he’d been supremely, stunningly stupid, but he’d be honest with it. Marshall deserved that from him, at least. He opened his eyes and looked over at the other side of the bed.

  Dark eyes looked back at him from under a clear brow and tousled brown hair. Marshall had rolled over on to his side and was staring at him. Teddy couldn’t help but ogle: the sheet covered very little of Marshall’s naked body. A bead of sweat glistened in the hollow of his throat and small, pebbled nipples jutted out from the dark hairs on his chest. His upper leg was bent over the lower one, but Teddy’s gaze could still follow the trail of hair down over his belly to the nest at his groin. And there rested Marshall’s cock, half-aroused and promisingly thick, lying comfortably on his thigh…

  Teddy tried to look away. He really did, but it just didn’t work. He had no idea what to say. Any apology would sound insincere. Any excuse, trite. His gaze flickered over the flushed skin of his bedmate; he felt lustful excitement clench in his groin, and he was disgusted with himself, all over again.

  “I’ll go,” he said. He wondered if he could somehow get out of bed without exposing his swollen dick, thickening with every glimpse of Marshall, with every sound he made even in sleep, with the very smell of his skin. Teddy didn’t know where the hell he’d left his pants or where his socks were. How could he worry about such mundane things? This was all a living nightmare.

  “Teddy?”

  He was struck dumb, just staring longingly at Marshall’s mouth. Couldn’t help himself, could he? He’d wanted to know what that mouth tasted like, since… well, since that night in the bar, when Marshall had chatted and smiled and occasionally licked his lips without realizing he was doing things to Teddy that had no place in the staff induction manual. Those lips were now damp with saliva, dark red and ragged in the corner where someone had bitten through the flesh. Oh God. That hadn’t been him, surely?

  “Teddy.” The mouth twitched gently, as if Marshall had some idea of the agonizing thoughts tumbling around in Teddy’s mind and found them amusing. He certainly didn’t look in pain. “It’s your room, remember? If anyone should go, it should be me.” His voice was slower than usual, still sleepy. “But I wasn’t planning on it just yet. Did you want me to?”

  Teddy just continued to stare. He realized how much he loved the familiar sound of Marshall’s voice. Very soft but very clear. Rich in so many ways. Laughing with him, talking through work problems, agreeing about things. Murmuring in his ear in the dark…

  Marshall yawned and his bare torso stretched up out of the sheet. “Sorry, I’m pretty tired.”

  Teddy flushed so hotly he could feel the heat rising up his neck in waves. “No! I mean… I’m the one should say sorry. Don’t go. I mean, I don’t want you to go. But you should. I should. I mean….” What did he mean?

  “What’s wrong?”

  He wondered where the hell he’d start. To admit he’d behaved like some horny teenager and Marshall had been the unfortunate victim of his lust? That he’d abused a friendship he’d secretly hoped would be more? That he’d never intended to act on that hope, not until Hell proverbially froze over? Teddy had never realized that humiliation could be so sharp or so painful. “I’m… I behaved appallingly. You don’t… you didn’t deserve that.”

  Marshall was silent for a moment, just watching him. He was frowning, the skin creasing above his nose. Teddy felt the slow chill of sweat cooling on his body, and his limbs still ached. He wanted to pull the sheet up to his chin, to cover himself completely, but knew what a ridiculous gesture that would be. And pointless, now.

  “Teddy.” It wasn’t a question or even annoyance. In fact, Teddy had never heard his name in Marshall’s voice in quite that way. Marshall shifted again, moving even nearer. Teddy could feel the heat radiating from the other body; he could feel Marshall’s hand wavering around Teddy’s hip, like he wanted to draw him closer. Teddy’s reawakening desire begged for another touch. Another? He tensed up, hating himself and his traitorous libido in equal measure. “Don’t!”

  Marshall’s frown deepened. He lifted his hand away, holding the palm upward, as if placating. “It’s okay. Teddy, calm down.”

  How could he? This was what he’d always dreaded. Dammit, this was why he’d given up going to the gym! Not so easy to keep lust under control when the subject of it stripped off his damp, sweaty shirt in front of you, threw you a towel, and nodded you into the shower alongside him. And he’d definitely avoided being left alone again with Marshall after a game, when he was tired and relaxed but the adrenaline still hummed along his nerve endings. God knew what other intimacies he might have shared on later evenings. What illicit needs he may have let slip. His passionate side just couldn’t be trusted.

  Marshall gave a soft, impatient sigh. His breath was warm, the touch of it on Teddy’s shoulder a sexually charged caress. Yes, Teddy admitted to himself, this was also what he’d dreamed of. And the conflict had gradually become agony. Tension across his shoulders after a day in the office with Marshall Craig was the least of his problems.

  The man beside him shifted as if getting more comfortable. Teddy hoped to God he hadn’t said anything out loud. “Look, Marshall. I’m just so very… sorry.” It didn’t sound any more satisfactory than before. When Marshall lifted his hand again, Teddy tried not to flinch away. But Marshall didn’t touch him. Instead, he pushed his tousled hair away from his forehead and moistened his lips.

  “You don’t need to apologize.” He spoke slowly and carefully in that soft, rich voice. “I think that you behaved….” He smiled then, so slightly that Teddy wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been staring at his mouth with hopeless fascination. “You behaved superbly.”

  Teddy stared. “I shouldn’t have.” Dammit, he sounded like some school boy now.

  An unidentifiable emotion flickered in Marshall’s eyes. “You didn’t want to?”

  Teddy flushed even more. His cock stirred between his legs, hot and heavy.

  Marshall smiled more broadly. He must have seen the sheets shift at Teddy’s hips. “Thank God for
that.”

  What the hell did he mean? Teddy was awash with an irrational fury. The rest of his memories of the previous evening chose that moment to return, flooding in, vivid and sensual. His head started to ache again, the pain stabbing insistently at his temples. He recalled sitting at the dinner table, crowds of people around but only one man of interest, for him at least. He remembered the lights on the huge, artificial Christmas tree in the corner of the room reflecting in the pupils of Marshall’s eyes; the music from the band loud but indistinct, just a sound in the background of their conversation. The smell of Marshall’s cologne; the frisson of champagne bubbles on his tongue. “Look, I don’t really know what happened.”

  Marshall raised an eyebrow. He stretched out his arm along the mattress. “You don’t?”

  Teddy rolled his eyes. “Dammit, of course… well, of course I know that. I just mean… at dinner.”

  Marshall looked at him steadily for a few more moments. “When the band was packing up for the night, you touched me, under the table. You put your hand on my leg.”

  Teddy felt the muscles of his thighs tighten up, trying to pull his legs together. “It might have been a clumsy accident - reaching for my napkin.”

  Marshall nodded but still smiled, as if he knew the game Teddy was playing. “Yes? But you slid it down between my thighs.”

  Oh God.

  “You leaned in and whispered to me, ‘We should leave right away.’” Marshall’s voice was breathy, hoarse. “We left the dining room together, your hand in the small of my back, guiding me in the direction of our floor. We took the elevator. You said you didn’t want to take time up the stairs.”

  Teddy recalled the muted lights, the seductive atmosphere of the hotel elevator: its richly padded walls, the mirrored surfaces from ceiling to waist height. He remembered standing close to Marshall, watching in the mirrors the way his eyes widened, staring over Marshall’s shoulder. He’d been breathing very heavily. There’d been no need to stand so close; there were no other passengers.

  “You laughed a lot. We laughed a lot.” The skin around Marshall’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. He pushed the hair back off his forehead again, the muscles flexing under his arm. Teddy couldn’t take his eyes off them. Off any of it.

  “Your room was nearer. That’s what you said.” Marshall’s voice was lower, softer. “You kissed me in the corridor, Teddy. Up against the wall. God. You held me tightly and you kissed me.”

  Teddy couldn’t pretend he didn’t remember now. His feelings were as sharp as if he were still there, in the deeply carpeted corridor, a few feet from the door to his hotel room. Pushing Marshall against the wall, hard enough to make a nearby painting of a historical maritime scene shudder in its frame. Not caring if anyone saw them or if anyone was scandalized. Such fierce kisses, pressed on to Marshall’s mouth again and again as if a dam had broken inside him, the astonishing, beautiful, sweet taste of Marshall’s lips. The sudden rush of desire that consumed him, burning his throat, blurring his eyes. He’d felt the swollen shape of his cock press against Marshall’s groin, and all he’d wanted was to have more of it, of him, of the man he’d admired for so long and desired for only slightly less.

  “Shit. Marshall.” Teddy felt his whole body wracked with misery and horror. Had that really been him?

  Marshall pulled the sheet back up to his waist. He moved reluctantly, slowly. He hadn’t taken his gaze off Teddy all the time he was speaking, and his eyes had darkened. “It was so damned fine. Kiss me again, Teddy.”

  “Don’t mock me!” Teddy snapped, hot and angry with fear of himself. He’d humiliated them both, of course! It was all too, too clear. The time between unlocking the door to his room and thrusting Marshall’s naked thighs apart on the bed had been a matter of minutes. He’d barely loosened him enough, barely spoken a word of request before taking what he’d wanted all evening. No, strike that, what he’d wanted for months. The time for hypocrisy was past. Perhaps his job was too. And more tragically, so was his friendship with Marshall.

  He swallowed hard and said, “You’d better go. I made a hideous mistake.”

  But Marshall made no move to go. Instead, he spread his hand on the tangled sheet beneath them both, looking down at his lean fingers. “I’m not mocking you. I don’t know how you can think that. After last night—”

  “But it’s not just that, is it?”

  Marshall didn’t look up but somehow, Teddy felt that his eyes were still staring at him. “What is it, then?”

  “It’s what I did. How.” Don’t make me say it aloud, he silently pleaded. Don’t make me remember.

  Marshall did look back up then, and Teddy was startled by the sudden flare of anger in his eyes. “Stop that.”

  How could he stop anything? He’d already done the damage. “I all but attacked you. I was like an animal!”

  “Yes, you were.” Marshall’s smile was lopsided, as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or grimace. “And you know what? You were magnificent. Strong. Greedy.”

  Teddy was shocked at the description. “But I’ve never been like that in my life.” Had he? No… never. No one had ever made him feel so desperate, so out of control. “I’d drunk too much. That champagne gift, the stupid thing from Secret Santa, or whatever they call it. Something in it went to my head—”

  “I said, stop it!” Marshall’s tone was sharp. “I only drank a glass of it. You barely finished your second. Don’t look for blame where there is none.”

  Blame? Teddy was momentarily speechless.

  “Isn’t that what you meant?” Marshall pulled himself up on an elbow so that he leaned over Teddy, and the sheet slipped down his body again. “You didn’t want it? You didn’t enjoy it? The champagne made me do it?”

  Teddy stared up at him. He was painfully aware of Marshall’s bare skin against his own and the muscles of Marshall’s leg pressing against his. He could feel hot breath on his face, and his body was stirring in eager response. “My God, no,” he gasped, honesty spilling from him on waves of desire. “I wanted it—too, too much! I wanted you. I always have. I enjoyed you.” He turned his head away, half-closing his eyes again, to shut it all out. “Don’t you see? That’s the problem. I used you.”

  There was a moment’s silence. The bed dipped and Marshall moved away at last. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. He was going, just like Teddy had told him to. What did I expect?

  He never expected to hear Marshall laugh, even though the sound was shaky. He was still sitting on the bed. “And I thought we used each other.”

  “What?”

  “Did I say no, Teddy? Was I too drunk on champagne? Did it look like I didn’t enjoy it?”

  “No.” Teddy felt relief trickling through his misery. “No, of course not. I’d never have done anything you didn’t want.” What’s more, he knew without doubt that was true.

  Marshall still had his back to him. “So, it was between the two of us. Consenting adults. No apologies needed, no guilt.”

  Teddy bit his lip. “But I took you. I never asked. I never….” His whole body burned again with embarrassment. Was he really talking about top and bottom with Marshall? His head dropped, and he actually started to draw up his knees, trying to curl into a ball under the sheet. “Marshall, I don’t know what you like, where you want to be touched, whether you wanted me inside you or not. I didn’t… I can’t remember asking permission. Asking anything.” A further, horrific thought struck him. “Condoms! Oh, dear God. Did I…? We…?”

  Marshall twisted back, the mattress bouncing under him, and he grabbed Teddy’s arm. “Teddy, stop it, I said. Teddy? Look at me.” His voice thickened. “Properly, goddammit!”

  Teddy snapped his head back up, startled.

  Marshall looked very flushed too. “Before you panic any more, I can tell you it’s okay. You went on and on about using a condom. Not that you had one on you, but that was why you were so insistent. You wanted me, you said. You really wanted me. But noth
ing more than kissing and touching, not without protection.”

  Teddy let out a sigh of relief. But his dream…?

  Marshall was still talking, quickly, as if he didn’t dare let Teddy interrupt. “You know, I don’t know what you like, either. You’re good fun to be with, but you seem very private too. Enthusiastic and hard-working, but also sensitive about what to say and do. I really like that combination. Well, to be honest, I really like you. When I first met you, I hoped….” He shook his head. He looked annoyed with himself. “Well, it was just that once, when I felt you opened up to me. In the bar that night at the gym, I don’t expect you remember. I had a great time with you until I stepped over the line, offering you a ride home. I was too obvious, dammit. I’d assumed far too much, just on the strength of our friendship.”

  “Marshall?”

  He didn’t seem to hear. “And after that, you pulled away again. There was no way I wanted to lose you as a friend or make you feel uncomfortable at work. But I assumed you didn’t want any other attention from me, that I’d offended you in that way, somehow. Pushed things too quickly, too far.” He shrugged and looked away. Teddy watched the movement, Marshall’s whole body seemed resigned, disappointed. “I didn’t know what else to do. It’s… well, it’s not always easy, getting to know a guy. Letting him know I’m interested. I’m out of practice, you see. Always so busy at work, whatever.” He bit his lip. “Who am I fooling? I’m just crap at it.”

  Teddy stared at him. He didn’t really understand what he was hearing.

  “Then, last night.” Marshall smiled, a little sadly. “Hell, you were a different man! You were much more relaxed; you actually seemed to want my company. That speech you made when you collected the second-place award—”

  “I did?” Teddy felt nauseous.