Read Online Deep Desire: The Deep Series, Book 1 by Z.A. Maxfield - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Z.A. Maxfield
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Barneys.”
“Well, there is that. But I’m supposed to get back to work.”
“Like work ever derailed one of your shopping expeditions. I’ll buy you shoes.” He dangled a carrot, qualifying, “If they’re on sale,” while he rummaged through his bag looking for a T-shirt.
“I’ll be here. Don’t take forever.”
Adin showered quickly and dressed, placing both his suit from the day before and his jeans in the hotel laundry bag to be cleaned. How horrifying. No doubt they would think he made a habit of creaming his trousers. There was probably some obscure dry-cleaning blog where acne-crusted minimum wagers shared their thoughts. You won’t believe it, everything we get from this one room is soaked in semen and the guy is staying by himself.
Arriving by cab at Barneys on Wilshire, Adin was just in time to purchase a pair of strappy white sandals for his sister at the end-of-season sale. They looked cool against her inauthentically tanned skin and had lethal heels, which put her at just about five feet four inches, still short by most standards. She was shamelessly delighted.
“Having a queer brother with a credit card?” She mimicked the popular commercials. “Priceless.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
“All is forgiven,” she said as they got into the elevator to go to Greengrass, the deli, on the top floor. “You look like yak splat, Adin. Are you okay?”
Adin avoided her gaze but answered her serenely. “I’m fine, Deana Beana. I’m damned run-down, though. I’ll need lots of food, maybe a protein shake.”
“You are taking care of yourself, though, aren’t you? You’ve been…”
Adin heard the subtext. “I’ve been tested, and I’m still negative. Bean, I may play hard, but I play safe.”
Deana unconsciously let out a breath she’d been holding. “I’m a scientist. You know I worry. Especially when you look like you do now.”
He’d seen himself in a mirror. “Point taken.”
Even Adin had been a little surprised when he’d caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked like one of those worst celebrity DUI booking photos. He had dark shadows under his eyes and was paler even than usual. It didn’t help that the light yellow of his T-shirt, which he’d gotten from some charity event, was not, and never would be, his color. His jeans fit like skin, with a wide belt holding them in just the right place to show off his ass and the hollows of his pelvis, but today they made him look thinner and more hollow than usual. He needed Queer Eye for the Dead Guy.
The door chimed and they got out.
They were late for the lunch rush, so the host immediately led them to a table on the terrace. A waiter came by to give them water.
“I should never wear yellow.”
“Good observation,” Deana said, picking up the menu. “Yellow was never your color, or mine for that matter. Makes you look bloodless.”
Adin almost did a classic spit-take. “Er. Yes.”
When the waiter came back, Deana took the lead. “I’ll have a Caesar salad with diced chicken.”
Adin briefly scanned the menu and made up his mind. “I think I’ll have a cup of matzo ball soup and a brisket sandwich.”
Deana smiled at the waiter as he left and then as if she’d used up all her patience she confronted Adin. “When are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”
“What?”
“Come on, oddball. Who knows you?”
Adin sighed deeply. “I’m translating that book. It is, of course, erotic. But the man writes so intimately of his love affair that I feel…”
“Whoa, back up. It’s a love affair? I thought it was a book of erotica.”
“So did I. Except I was mistaken. It isn’t at all what I thought it would be.”
“I see.”
“Do you? Here I was kind of flip about it, you know? But this man, he was in love and faithful for his whole life. He writes about it so passionately. In such rich detail. I don’t know. I feel as though I’m intruding.”
“Okay, one, the book is five
“Well, there is that. But I’m supposed to get back to work.”
“Like work ever derailed one of your shopping expeditions. I’ll buy you shoes.” He dangled a carrot, qualifying, “If they’re on sale,” while he rummaged through his bag looking for a T-shirt.
“I’ll be here. Don’t take forever.”
Adin showered quickly and dressed, placing both his suit from the day before and his jeans in the hotel laundry bag to be cleaned. How horrifying. No doubt they would think he made a habit of creaming his trousers. There was probably some obscure dry-cleaning blog where acne-crusted minimum wagers shared their thoughts. You won’t believe it, everything we get from this one room is soaked in semen and the guy is staying by himself.
Arriving by cab at Barneys on Wilshire, Adin was just in time to purchase a pair of strappy white sandals for his sister at the end-of-season sale. They looked cool against her inauthentically tanned skin and had lethal heels, which put her at just about five feet four inches, still short by most standards. She was shamelessly delighted.
“Having a queer brother with a credit card?” She mimicked the popular commercials. “Priceless.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
“All is forgiven,” she said as they got into the elevator to go to Greengrass, the deli, on the top floor. “You look like yak splat, Adin. Are you okay?”
Adin avoided her gaze but answered her serenely. “I’m fine, Deana Beana. I’m damned run-down, though. I’ll need lots of food, maybe a protein shake.”
“You are taking care of yourself, though, aren’t you? You’ve been…”
Adin heard the subtext. “I’ve been tested, and I’m still negative. Bean, I may play hard, but I play safe.”
Deana unconsciously let out a breath she’d been holding. “I’m a scientist. You know I worry. Especially when you look like you do now.”
He’d seen himself in a mirror. “Point taken.”
Even Adin had been a little surprised when he’d caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked like one of those worst celebrity DUI booking photos. He had dark shadows under his eyes and was paler even than usual. It didn’t help that the light yellow of his T-shirt, which he’d gotten from some charity event, was not, and never would be, his color. His jeans fit like skin, with a wide belt holding them in just the right place to show off his ass and the hollows of his pelvis, but today they made him look thinner and more hollow than usual. He needed Queer Eye for the Dead Guy.
The door chimed and they got out.
They were late for the lunch rush, so the host immediately led them to a table on the terrace. A waiter came by to give them water.
“I should never wear yellow.”
“Good observation,” Deana said, picking up the menu. “Yellow was never your color, or mine for that matter. Makes you look bloodless.”
Adin almost did a classic spit-take. “Er. Yes.”
When the waiter came back, Deana took the lead. “I’ll have a Caesar salad with diced chicken.”
Adin briefly scanned the menu and made up his mind. “I think I’ll have a cup of matzo ball soup and a brisket sandwich.”
Deana smiled at the waiter as he left and then as if she’d used up all her patience she confronted Adin. “When are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”
“What?”
“Come on, oddball. Who knows you?”
Adin sighed deeply. “I’m translating that book. It is, of course, erotic. But the man writes so intimately of his love affair that I feel…”
“Whoa, back up. It’s a love affair? I thought it was a book of erotica.”
“So did I. Except I was mistaken. It isn’t at all what I thought it would be.”
“I see.”
“Do you? Here I was kind of flip about it, you know? But this man, he was in love and faithful for his whole life. He writes about it so passionately. In such rich detail. I don’t know. I feel as though I’m intruding.”
“Okay, one, the book is five
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