Just a Bit Dirty (Straight Guys Book 10), page 22
Contents
Just a Bit Dirty
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
From the Author
About the Series
Just a Bit Dirty
(Book #10 in the Straight Guys series)
Alessandra Hazard
The Straight Guys series:
Xavier and Sage: Straight Boy: A Short Story (Book #0.5)
Derek and Shawn: Just a Bit Twisted (Book #1)
Alexander and Christian: Just a Bit Obsessed (Book #2)
Jared and Gabriel: Just a Bit Unhealthy (Book #3)
Zach and Tristan: Just a Bit Wrong (Book #4)
Ryan and James: Just a Bit Confusing (Book #5)
Roman and Luke: Just a Bit Ruthless (Book #6)
Vlad and Sebastian: Just a Bit Wicked (Book #7)
Dominic and Sam: Just a Bit Shameless (Book #8)
Nick and Tyler: Just a Bit Gay (Book #9)
Copyright © 2019 Alessandra Hazard
Editor: Elizabeth Balmanno
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author’s imagination.
This book contains explicit sex and graphic language.
Publisher’s Note:
Since this book has British characters, some British English words are retained, but spelling conforms to American English conventions. All characters in this book are completely fictional and bear no resemblance to any living person. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Miles Hardaway wasn’t having a good day.
His flight to Boston had been late, then someone stole his wallet—with Miles’s credit card, his passport, and all his cash—and now the guy who was supposed to pick him up was late too.
Miles glanced at his phone for what felt like the hundredth time and frowned, looking around the crowded Boston Airport. His brother had assured him that his American friend would pick him up, but it had been an hour since his arrival and the bloke was still nowhere to be seen.
Just brilliant.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t as though he needed to be picked up—he was twenty, not a child—but fighting his overbearing eldest brother on this was more trouble than it was worth. As the youngest child in his large family, Miles had long ago learned when to pick his battles and when to save his breath.
Zach had always been overprotective of him. He thought of Miles as more of a son than a brother. It was probably unavoidable, considering their significant age difference and the fact that Zach had practically raised him since Miles was a toddler. Needless to say, Zach didn’t approve of his decision to spend the summer overseas all by himself and insisted on Miles’s staying at his friend’s place. At least he hadn’t outright forbidden him from going. He could have, since Miles was a broke student financially dependent on his eldest brother.
It made Miles a little embarrassed that he was still such a baby, but he’d mostly made peace with it. He’d tried to be independent before—when he had moved out of Zach’s house at seventeen—but he hadn’t expected how difficult being on his own would be. London was expensive, and he’d ended up sharing a tiny room with two other guys from his class. It had certainly been a learning experience: he had learned that sometimes pride was stupid and pointless. He’d been embarrassed but relieved to return to Zach’s house with his tail between his legs. Since then, he hadn’t rebelled again, accepting Zach’s financial support until the time he would be able to be independent without having to skip meals to pay rent.
But still, having to depend on Zach’s financial support for his travels while he tried to figure himself out made Miles more than a little uncomfortable. That was why he had agreed to stay at Zach’s friend’s place: he didn’t want Zach to pay for his hotels too.
His phone went off in his hand.
Alexander Sheldon, the caller ID said.
Relieved, Miles answered. “Hey,” he said, a little awkwardly. He and Alexander didn’t know each other all that well. Alexander had been invited to dinner at their house when he’d been in London last summer, but with how large Miles’s family was, they had barely talked to each other. “Thanks for coming to pick me up. I’m at Terminal—”
“Actually,” Alexander cut him off. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t pick you up. You have no idea how sorry I am, but you won’t be able to stay at our place either.”
Miles blinked, at a loss. “Oh. That’s—” That’s fine, he wanted to say, but it wasn’t really fine. He was in an unfamiliar city, in a different country, with no money, no credit card, and no passport.
“My fiancé’s parents got into a serious accident in Brazil yesterday,” Alexander said, his voice apologetic but distracted. “We’re already in Rio. We should have left you a key, but we left in such a hurry, your arrival slipped my mind.”
“Oh,” Miles said, frowning. “Are they okay?”
“Not really,” Alexander replied, his voice grim and tired. “My fiancé is a mess right now, and it’s been…” He sighed. “Anyway, look, I’m really sorry for this. I already asked our friends to pick you up and host you until our return—”
“You didn’t have to,” Miles said, wincing a little. It was one thing to stay at the place of a relative of a family friend—Alexander’s cousin, Jared, was an old family friend—but it was completely another to have to depend on strangers he didn’t know at all. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You won’t be,” Alexander said. “You’ll stay at Rutledge Manor. It has thirty bedrooms. Your presence there won’t make a difference, kid.”
“I’m not a kid,” Miles said without much heat.
“The Rutledges will send someone to pick you up soon. Sit tight.” Alexander sounded distracted again. “Okay, I have to go. Call me if you need anything. And I mean anything, all right? I promised Jared I would keep an eye on you, and he’ll have my balls if anything happens to you.”
Miles shook his head with a crooked smile. He knew Jared was protective of him, too—most of Zach’s old friends were—but he hadn’t expected that Jared would personally ask his cousin to keep an eye on him.
“Thanks,” Miles said, but Alexander had already ended the call.
Grimacing a little—he really hated being an inconvenience to someone he barely knew—Miles looked at his phone and typed a message to Zach, telling him that everything was fine. There was no way in hell he could tell his overprotective brother that he had already managed to lose his wallet and his ID. Zach would never let him live it down.
But before Miles could send the message, his phone went off again. It was an unfamiliar number.
Miles answered.
“Miles Hardaway?” someone said. “My name is Tom. I’m Mr. Rutledge’s driver. I was sent for you.”
Miles sagged in relief and smiled.
***
Miles fell asleep in the car, so he wasn’t actually sure how long the trip to Rutledge Manor had taken. When he opened his eyes, the car had already stopped, and the driver was gently shaking him awake. It was already dark outside.
“We have arrived, Mr. Hardaway,” the driver said, straightening up.
Miles pulled a face. “Please call me Miles.” It was strange to be called Mr. Hardaway by a man who looked old enough to be his grandfather.
Shaking his head, Tom just smiled at him like he was an adorable but very unreasonable child.
Suppressing a sigh, Miles smiled back faintly and got out of the car.
He blinked, staring at the enormous house.
Miles wasn’t exactly a stranger to huge mansions and luxurious lifestyle. His brother Ryan’s boyfriend was an actual lord whose family owned several castles in England and Scotland. But Miles had never stayed there even for a night; he was supposed to stay here for an indefinite amount of time.
It was a little bit intimidating, to be honest.
And was it normal for the house to be illuminated so brightly? The lights were turned on in practically all the rooms.
He asked Tom about it.
“Actually, no,” Tom replied, retrieving his suitcase. “There’s a company event tonight to celebrate Rutledge Enterprises’ partnership with the Caldwell Group.”
Great. Not only was he dumped on the Rutledges without any warning, but he was also crashing their company event.
“Tom, maybe we shouldn’t…”
But either Tom hadn’t heard him, which was entirely possible, considering his age, or he chose to dismiss Miles’s misgivings.
Miles followed him into the house, trying to remember what he knew about the Rutledges. Not a lot. Alexander had mentioned them a few times, and if Miles remembered correctly, they were a gay couple. That was pretty much all Miles knew about them.
“I’ll go find Mr. Rutledge,” Tom said, handing Miles’s suitcase to a maid.
Miles nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked around with interest. It didn’t take him long to start feeling a little self-conscious in his t-shirt and jeans. He looked completely out of place in this elegant hall that screamed of money and privilege, standing out like a sore thumb among those finely dressed guests. He was attracting a lot of looks, and Miles didn’t flatter himself thinking that it was because he looked amazing after his transatlantic flight. He probably looked like a mess.
Maybe he should go for a walk.
The more people stared at him, the more attractive the idea seemed until Miles finally gave in, figuring that it would be a while before Tom would be able to get his employer’s attention. Besides, Tom could always call him when he found Mr. Rutledge.
Since the sounds of people and laughter were coming from somewhere to his left, Miles wandered in the opposite direction, toward the right wing of the manor.
It was quieter here, though he still met an occasional guest. They looked at him with slight confusion, but no one spoke to him, which suited Miles well enough.
Before long, he found himself on a beautiful terrace that looked out upon the garden.
Miles dropped himself into the chair in the darkest corner of the terrace and rolled his head from side to side, trying to work out the kinks in his neck after his long flight. God, he was knackered. He wondered if it would be too rude if he took a nap here. It was quiet and peaceful enough.
But just as he thought about it, there was the sound of footsteps and male voices.
Grimacing, Miles moved his chair deeper into the shadows. If he was lucky, those people wouldn’t notice him sitting behind that huge plant and would leave soon. He wasn’t really in the mood for more curious stares.
The footsteps and voices came closer.
They belonged to two men.
The taller man made an irritated sound. “All right. Half an hour. I’m staying another half an hour and then I’m leaving.”
“Mr. Caldwell, you can’t leave so soon,” the other man said, his voice pleading. “The press will have a field day!”
The first man—Caldwell—shrugged. “It won’t be the first time, or the last.”
“With all due respect, sir, but it’s one thing when your name is linked with some Hollywood actress, and completely another when you refuse to stay at a company event in honor of the partnership between the Caldwell Group and Rutledge Enterprises. You can’t seriously—”
“Enough.”
Miles shivered. There was something about that man’s voice, his bearing, that screamed this was a man who was used to his word being the law.
“But…” the other man said meekly. “Mr. Caldwell, what am I supposed to say when people start asking where you are?”
Caldwell gave another disinterested shrug. “Make something up. That’s what I pay you for, Ernie.”
When Ernie made a protesting noise, his boss gave him a flat look. “I said enough. I signed this partnership deal because it’s financially beneficial for my company; it doesn’t mean I’m suddenly Rutledge’s friend. I’m not going to stay here and watch him play house with some kid half his age—” Caldwell cut himself off, a muscle working in his jaw. His blue eyes caught the light, glinting with cold anger.
Ernie cleared his throat, looking beyond uncomfortable. “I don’t think Derek Rutledge is twice as old as his husband.”
Caldwell sneered. It was a cruel expression, one that distorted his handsome features into something almost monstrous. Miles stared at the man in fascination. He’d seen a lot of handsome men, but he’d rarely seen men with truly interesting faces. This man had one. Caldwell had a sharp jawline and an equally sharp gaze, his dark-brown hair the only remotely soft thing about him. He had some early gray hair around the temples, but the man couldn’t be much older than thirty, his tanned skin smooth and healthy, his body clearly fit under that bespoke suit.
“Doesn’t matter,” Caldwell said. “It’s still pathetic to see a middle-aged man panting after a gold-digger more than a decade his junior.”
Miles frowned. He didn’t know the Rutledge couple at all, but from what he’d heard of Alexander, it was a love match.
“Well,” Ernie said, grimacing. “I agree that it does look unnatural. Joseph Rutledge must be rolling in his grave. He would have never allowed his only son to marry a man.”
Miles glowered at Ernie, his annoyance rising. He’d been feeling sorry for the guy for having to deal with such a difficult boss, but the guy’s homophobic views were quickly destroying any sympathy he might have felt for him.
He looked at Caldwell, hoping that he would tell his employee how wrong his attitude was, but the man looked unbothered, his gaze on his phone.
“I want you to double check the documents Rutledge provided us,” Caldwell said, putting his phone into the pocket of his gray trousers. He had great hands, with strong, beautifully shaped fingers.
Miles cocked his head to the side, intrigued that he even noticed such a thing.
At times like this, he questioned if he really was asexual. To be fair, it wasn’t something he knew for sure. His attempts at sex and relationships had just been something of a disaster. He’d had sex with a total of two girls—or tried to—and both times he couldn’t get hard enough to actually do the deed, resorting to his fingers. After those failures with girls, Miles had even started thinking that he might be gay, especially since some of his older brothers weren’t completely straight—maybe people were right that homosexuality was genetic. But his only attempt at gay sex had been even more disastrous than his attempts at straight sex: Miles felt like he was doing an unpleasant, nerve-wracking chore. In the end, he had ended up clumsily sucking the guy off and then lying to him that he’d already come when the guy saw that Miles wasn’t hard.
Since then, Miles had kind of… given up on sex. Sometimes he thought he felt very faint attraction to a guy or a girl, but he never acted on it anymore, content with his right hand. The fact that he wanked regularly confirmed that physically his equipment was fine, which only confused him more. If he really were asexual, shouldn’t he have no sex drive at all? Miles did want sex—in theory—but as soon as he was in a bedroom with a real person, the last thing he wanted was to get naked with them and touch their genitals. All he had felt was discomfort. He had no idea what that made him. According to the all-knowing Google, some asexual people didn’t wank; some did. Some couldn’t feel attraction at all; some could, in the right circumstances. In short, his sexuality was still a mystery, and Google wasn’t offering any answers.
That was partly why Miles had decided to travel this summer. If he was going to figure himself out, it was better to do it away from the curious eyes of his nosy family.
Not that being asexual would be the end of the world. It wouldn’t be. He had a great family, no matter how overbearing they were. He wasn’t worried that anyone in his family would find it weird if he told them that he was asexual and possibly aromantic.
That said, although his possible asexuality didn’t stress him out, Miles couldn’t deny that sometimes he wanted to feel… more like other people, to feel stuff other guys his age felt when they saw a beautiful woman or a fit man.
So now, the fact that he found himself staring at Caldwell’s hands and sharp jawline was more than a little intriguing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d checked anyone out.
“…Yes, Mr. Caldwell,” Ernie was muttering, making notes on his tablet as his boss fired order after order. The guy looked more stressed by the moment, a look of misery in his eyes as he tried to type everything down. Miles felt a pang of pity again before telling himself not to be soft. The bloke was a homophobic ass. Having such a difficult boss must be karma or something.
Finally, the men left, and Miles was alone on the terrace again. Yawning, he closed his eyes, his eyelids growing heavier by the minute. Although he had taken a nap in the car, he was still exhausted after his flight and his body was sure the hour was a lot later than it was.
