Read Online Men of London 03 - Suit Yourself by Susan Mac Nicol - Free Book Online

to the large picture window
and waved. “Hi, Mrs C. I’ve got a coffee date with a porn
star—well, ex porn star.” He knew she couldn’t hear him but she
waved back and disappeared.
    Ever since he’d danced naked in front of the
window one evening and she’d seen him, she’d been very friendly.
He’d been rather drunk at the time, he had to admit. Luckily she
hadn’t seen the sexual calisthenics that had occurred after
Leslie’s date had pulled him back from his exhibition of Michael
Flatley’s Riverdance routine and pushed
him onto his knees on the carpet. The guy—Darren, Darryl?—had had
the presence of mind to close the curtains before fucking him
senseless.
    That image brought back some fond memories.
After sending a message to both Taylor and Eddie with the joyful
news Oliver had called him back, Leslie used that memory to jack
off later to the face of Nicky Starr in his heyday, blissfully
content that on Thursday, he’d get to meet the real man behind the
mystery.

 
    Chapter 6
    Oliver sat at his usual table at Fidalgo’s, his
fingers nervously tapping the red-chequered table top. His stomach
was in knots and he’d barely slept last night. He’d even thought of
crying off today and telling Leslie that something had come up and
he wouldn’t make it. However, the thought of Katie—who’d highly
approved of the coffee plan—bitching at him for not going was worse than the alternative.
    And he really did want to see Leslie again.
He’d thought of nothing more from their last phone call. It would
be good to talk someone who was so bright and bubbly and, he
admitted to himself, sex on a stick. Although that wasn’t what he
wanted from this, he reminded himself. He needed a friend, not a
lover. And besides, he doubted Leslie would be interested in him
that way. He probably had a string of undamaged goods at his beck
and call.
    For God’s sake, stop
analysing everything and get on with it.
    Despite that thought, his cock throbbed in
his black jeans when he saw Leslie enter the coffee shop. The man
looked like he had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Dressed
in tight black chinos, finished with high-heeled black boots, with
a white collared shirt and a leather jacket, wearing the biggest
pair of sunglasses Oliver had ever seen, Leslie looked
mouth-wateringly tempting. His jet black hair was styled artfully
over his face, one strand of hair falling down, making Oliver want
to brush it away. He took Oliver’s breath away.
    Down boy , he
cautioned himself. Keep it simple. Just friends,
remember?
    Alberto, the owner, approached Leslie and
gestured, then his coffee date looked over to where Oliver sat and
the most beautiful smile flooded his face.
    Oh dear God , Oliver
thought desperately. I am in so much fucking
trouble .
    He didn’t dare stand up for fear the hard-on
he sported would spring free in celebration of Leslie’s presence.
Instead he remained seated, uncomfortably so, and as Leslie
approached the table, he waved at the chair opposite, willing his
erection to go down with thoughts of copulating old men with hairy
bodies and limp dicks.
    “Leslie. Glad you could make it.”
    Leslie seated himself at the table and
flashed another grin. “I like this place. Very trendy. And that guy
on the front desk is yummy.” His blue eyes cast a mischievous
glance toward Enrico, one of Alberto’s sons who’d just arrived at
the reception stand. Enrico looked down at the desk, a smile on his
face. A sudden rush of jealousy assailed Oliver.
    Where the hell did that
come from?
    He quashed the unreasonable emotion and waved
toward one of the passing waiters. “What kind of coffee would you
like?”
    “Oh, just a plain latte for me. I’m not one
of those ‘caramel macchiato, venti, skim, extra shot, sugar free,
no foam, extra hot’ crazy people.”
    Oliver blinked. “That’s a drink?”
    Leslie huffed. “Oh my God, yes. Before I got
this job at Debussy, I worked at Starbucks. You cannot believe