Then and Now by Clare London

Author:Clare London [London, Clare]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Published: 2012-12-09T04:25:23+00:00

18

Then and Now ♥ Clare London

Put yourself about when you’re young. But that’s family for you, always trying to spoil your fun.” I stared back. For a second, I was confused, wondering who he was, what the hell he was talking about.

“Women.” He grinned, nodding at me as if we were on our own exclusive planet. He was older than me, though maybe not as old as Dana and Paul. I thought I’d seen him before at family events, some friend of a friend. Someone’s husband too, I seemed to remember. “I mean, we’ve all got to give it up some time, right?

Need someone at the end of the day to clean up after us.

But while the going’s good, play the field.” I didn’t even nod. The guy was offensive, and I didn’t want to encourage him. A brief moment of sympathy for his wife passed through my mind. Anyway, I was used to holding my tongue. Had to do it for all those months with Dad—had to do it for a few years before that, for other reasons.

“Stirring things up, though, right?” He peered at me, his eyes rimmed red from too much drink. “Engagements… weddings. All these hours of hormonal melodrama. I know what that’s like.” For a horrible moment, I thought he was going to jab me in the ribs as well. “Gets the girls expecting too much, that’s what I say. Gets ’em unsettled.” He didn’t give me a chance to give an opinion on that. His grin had slipped into more of a leer, and he was leaning against the wall as if he needed it to keep him upright. “In fact, if youreallyask me, what you want to do is get to know a couple of 19

Then and Now ♥ Clare London

those tarts in there with skirts up around their ass and preferably without too much fucking metalwork in their mou—”

“Excuse me?” snapped a male voice from behind us.

The guy swivelled around to glare at whoever had interrupted his pearls of sordid wisdom. Then his eyes travelled further upward and paused. His throat swallowed, convulsively. “You have a problem with some of my girl friends?” continued the new voice. It was smooth but firm. And very confident. Alex Brough was well over six foot, a fine rugby player and built like one, dark-haired and broad. He was only a couple of years older than me, but he already had that air of steady, calm strength the best athletes have. Though in Alex, there was mercifully little arrogance to match.

The man started to bluster. Luckily for him—because I’d seen Alex turn on people occasionally, his aggression not restricted entirely to the playing field—the girl in the toilet chose that particular moment to stumble out. She fell against me, giggling, and as I handed her off to Alex to direct her back to her friends, the man backed away toward the kitchen and dodged inside. I caught Alex’s eye. For a second, his look was grim, and then it relaxed.

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