Read Online Dash and Dingo by Catt Ford, Sean Kennedy - Free Book Online
Authors: Catt Ford, Sean Kennedy
Ads: Link
Kennedy
probably not, but he hoped perhaps at some point that he would have a chance to swim in the waters of Tasmania. He had read that the beaches of Australia were some of the most beautiful in the world, and with such a reputation as that he couldn’t resist the opportunity if it arose. He scrubbed himself well and stepped out, drying off before wrapping the towel around his waist.
Because the shower had been a cold one, the mirror hadn’t fogged over, and he was able to shave straightaway, deriving a tiny thrill out of using Dingo’s shaving mug and razor. He donned his boxers and hung up the damp towel neatly, feeling a sense of triumph that he’d gotten away with it.
When he opened the bathroom door, Dingo’s snores assured him that the man was still asleep. Henry picked up the phone and ordered an English breakfast for two to be delivered to Dingo’s room, opting for the exotic sounding Siamese tea they offered rather than Indian.
Then he went into his own room to rouse the other man. “Dingo! Time to rise and shine,” Henry barked loudly.
He chuckled when Dingo jerked on the bed and grabbed a pillow, dragging it over his head. “Don’t shout,” came the muffled plea from under the pillow.
Pulling the pillow out of Dingo’s grasp, Henry shouted, “What was that? Didn’t quite hear you.”
“Lord help me,” Dingo groaned, prying his eyes open to glare blearily at Henry. “Don’t you have a hangover?”
“No, never have. Besides, you promised me that filthy stuff you made me drink last night had magical herbal powers and it seems to have worked.
For me, at least.”
Henry’s laugh seemed heartless to Dingo, and he stared at him
reproachfully. “If I’d known I was traveling with a bloody sadist, I’d have….”
“You’d have what?” Henry asked, his smile fading.
“Nothing,” Dingo said hastily, sitting up. He grabbed his head as the movement made his head start to pound. “What did I drink last night that you didn’t?”
“We were drinking the same thing, only you had more than I did,”
Henry said. “Want an aspirin?”
“Coffee,” Dingo moaned. “Then aspirin, then ice, and then maybe a gun, so you can put me out of my misery.”
Dash and Dingo: In Search of the Tasmanian Tiger | 43
“I’ll add it to our order,” Henry said, crossing to the telephone. He felt a bit self-conscious, clad only in his boxers, but figured that two could play at this game. After all, yesterday Dingo had worn only a towel after his bath, and men who didn’t like other men apparently weren’t self-conscious about what they were or were not wearing, and suddenly it all seemed too confusing, keeping track of what “normal” men did or didn’t do before other men. The hell with it. “Room two sixteen, I’d like to add a pot of coffee to our order.
Cream, yes, and sugar.”
“What did you order for us?” Dingo asked curiously.
“English breakfast, buttered muffins, bacon, eggs….” Henry paused, grinning maliciously as Dingo turned a delicate shade of green. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“I need a shower,” Dingo announced. He got out of bed and headed for his own room.
Henry was glad to see he was a bit unsteady on his feet. After all, Dingo couldn’t have everything all his own way. “Take my towel. I used yours,” he said, going into this bathroom to get it. He tossed it at Dingo, who caught it with both hands against his chest.
“Thanks,” Dingo muttered, looking surprised. He paused for a moment, taking an appraising glance up and down Henry’s body.
Henry could feel the flush start on his face and spread down his neck and chest, wondering why he felt so exposed. “Your shower?”
“Right,” Dingo said, and he turned and marched into his own room, closing the door firmly behind him.
“Score one for Dash,” Henry murmured and smiled.
After an uneasy breakfast, they took a taxi back to the airport where Henry was left to himself as Dean and Dingo
probably not, but he hoped perhaps at some point that he would have a chance to swim in the waters of Tasmania. He had read that the beaches of Australia were some of the most beautiful in the world, and with such a reputation as that he couldn’t resist the opportunity if it arose. He scrubbed himself well and stepped out, drying off before wrapping the towel around his waist.
Because the shower had been a cold one, the mirror hadn’t fogged over, and he was able to shave straightaway, deriving a tiny thrill out of using Dingo’s shaving mug and razor. He donned his boxers and hung up the damp towel neatly, feeling a sense of triumph that he’d gotten away with it.
When he opened the bathroom door, Dingo’s snores assured him that the man was still asleep. Henry picked up the phone and ordered an English breakfast for two to be delivered to Dingo’s room, opting for the exotic sounding Siamese tea they offered rather than Indian.
Then he went into his own room to rouse the other man. “Dingo! Time to rise and shine,” Henry barked loudly.
He chuckled when Dingo jerked on the bed and grabbed a pillow, dragging it over his head. “Don’t shout,” came the muffled plea from under the pillow.
Pulling the pillow out of Dingo’s grasp, Henry shouted, “What was that? Didn’t quite hear you.”
“Lord help me,” Dingo groaned, prying his eyes open to glare blearily at Henry. “Don’t you have a hangover?”
“No, never have. Besides, you promised me that filthy stuff you made me drink last night had magical herbal powers and it seems to have worked.
For me, at least.”
Henry’s laugh seemed heartless to Dingo, and he stared at him
reproachfully. “If I’d known I was traveling with a bloody sadist, I’d have….”
“You’d have what?” Henry asked, his smile fading.
“Nothing,” Dingo said hastily, sitting up. He grabbed his head as the movement made his head start to pound. “What did I drink last night that you didn’t?”
“We were drinking the same thing, only you had more than I did,”
Henry said. “Want an aspirin?”
“Coffee,” Dingo moaned. “Then aspirin, then ice, and then maybe a gun, so you can put me out of my misery.”
Dash and Dingo: In Search of the Tasmanian Tiger | 43
“I’ll add it to our order,” Henry said, crossing to the telephone. He felt a bit self-conscious, clad only in his boxers, but figured that two could play at this game. After all, yesterday Dingo had worn only a towel after his bath, and men who didn’t like other men apparently weren’t self-conscious about what they were or were not wearing, and suddenly it all seemed too confusing, keeping track of what “normal” men did or didn’t do before other men. The hell with it. “Room two sixteen, I’d like to add a pot of coffee to our order.
Cream, yes, and sugar.”
“What did you order for us?” Dingo asked curiously.
“English breakfast, buttered muffins, bacon, eggs….” Henry paused, grinning maliciously as Dingo turned a delicate shade of green. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“I need a shower,” Dingo announced. He got out of bed and headed for his own room.
Henry was glad to see he was a bit unsteady on his feet. After all, Dingo couldn’t have everything all his own way. “Take my towel. I used yours,” he said, going into this bathroom to get it. He tossed it at Dingo, who caught it with both hands against his chest.
“Thanks,” Dingo muttered, looking surprised. He paused for a moment, taking an appraising glance up and down Henry’s body.
Henry could feel the flush start on his face and spread down his neck and chest, wondering why he felt so exposed. “Your shower?”
“Right,” Dingo said, and he turned and marched into his own room, closing the door firmly behind him.
“Score one for Dash,” Henry murmured and smiled.
After an uneasy breakfast, they took a taxi back to the airport where Henry was left to himself as Dean and Dingo
Similar Books
