What He Craves: Desires Book 2

  Table of Contents

  What He Craves

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  What He Craves

  Desires Book Two

  By

  E. M. Denning

  DEDICATION

  For Courtney

  Because you loved these books and helped them shine.

  For all that you do,

  this one’s for you.

  Chapter One

  Matt

  Okay. Okay. Maybe he wasn’t totally fucked. Cam had to hire him back. Sure, he absolutely loathed working for his brother, but Cam would have to give him a job. He couldn’t tell Cam that he’d quit his job at the restaurant in a fit of jealous rage because people flirted with Steve and he flirted back, and Matt had tried for two years to make Steve notice him, but he wouldn’t of course, because Steve, the honorable shit, didn’t fuck his employees. Matt forced himself to take a deep breath. Breathe. He had to remember to breathe. He had to be cool.

  He’d had another job lined up, he thought. He showed up a few days ago, ready to work. They’d told him he could start that day, but a manager came out and informed him that he’d given someone else the position before Matt got hired. His assistant manager somehow screwed up. Matt didn’t have a job after all.

  That only left Cam.

  Matt wiped his sweaty palms down his jeans and sauntered up to the shop. Cam inherited the garage from their dad when he died, and he’d done a great job turning it around. He’d totally revamped the poor reputation their dad had left behind, and business had been steady for a while now. Cam would have no problem hiring him back. Cam had to hire him back. By rights, the shop should have been half Matt’s, but their homophobic asshole father had written Matt out of the will. Cam got everything and most times it didn’t bother him because Cam always did his best to look out for Matt.

  The bells above the door jingled when Matt pulled the door open. Suzie looked up from her spot at the front desk. He remembered the first time they’d met, and she asked him on a date. Turning down a sweet girl like her had been hell, but, well, wrong equipment. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d since turned her affections toward Cam, who probably had the same shit rule Steve did about not getting involved with employees. Some guys are no fun at all.

  “Hey, Suzie. Cam in the office?”

  She nodded. “He’s in a bit of a shit mood today, so be careful.”

  “What’s going on?” Cam had always been easy going and laid back. But everything he did had been organized and calculated and well planned. Basically, he was the opposite of Matt.

  “Something about a supplier overcharging for stuff. Shipping delays on top of that which makes him have to readjust when people get their cars back.” Suzie shrugged. “It’s been a rough week.”

  Well shit. This wasn’t good. Matt took a deep breath and tried not to climb the walls. “Thanks for the heads up.” The walk down the short hallway to Cam’s office felt like the march of death. Matt wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans, again, and wondered if his life would flash before his eyes. Death might be welcome at this point, Matt thought as the knot of anxiety in his stomach turned into a boulder.

  He knocked lightly then entered the office. Cam had the phone pressed to his ear, as luck would have it, he seemed to be talking with the parts supplier to find out what the hold up was. Matt sat in one of the two chairs across from Cam’s desk and folded his hands in his lap. He hated coming to Cam begging for a job like a stupid kid, but maybe he was. He’d quit his job so he could have a chance at boning Steve. That wasn’t something a normal twenty-five-year-old did, was it? But Matt had never been normal. He’d always did stupid shit before he thought it through. It’s how he’d always been. Sometimes it worked out, and other times he ended up here, in Cam’s office.

  Cam had ended the call without Matt noticing because he’d been silently freaking out.

  “Matt.” Cam spoke, and Matt snapped out of his doom spiral, sort of. At least enough to pay attention to what Cam was saying. “What brings you by?” Cam’s tight voice had and edge to it that indicated Cam knew what was coming.

  “I got laid off. I need a job, Cam.” Totally not the truth, but Matt couldn’t tell Cam the truth.

  Cam shook his head and raked a hand through his thick blonde hair. “Matt. Come on, man. I thought we went over this.”

  Matt’s already rampant heart kicked it up a notch and the boulder of anxiety in his stomach spread out to each limb. “Cam, please. I got laid off. It’s not my fault. Just for a few months. I’ll find a new job. Please.”

  Cam shook his head.

  Shit.

  Fuck.

  Shitcrapmotherfuckingfucknononononono.

  “Matt. No. I’m sorry. There’s unemployment. You have enough hours banked to qualify, and you were laid off. You’ll have no problem getting it. I’m sorry. I love the shit out of you, but you know you can’t work here. You need to stand on your own two feet.”

  Matt nodded and tried to swallow past the giant lump in his throat. “Yeah. Fine. Okay. Uh…I should go do that then.” Matt got up and left before Cam could say anything else. Unemployment. Yeah. Okay. Easy, right? Except the record of employment in his pocket that he’d grabbed with his last check clearly stated that Matt hadn’t been laid off. Still, there might be a chance.

  As Matt pulled out of the parking lot, he looked back and saw Cam in the doorway of the shop, watching him go. Fucking Cam. He got it. Matt understood that Cam had bailed him out of every scrape, jam, and fucked up situation he’d dug himself into since kindergarten. His argument that Matt needed to live an adult life and fix his own mistakes had been a compelling one. That didn’t make him hate Cam any less for sticking with it this time.

  Matt let out a shaky breath and drove to the unemployment office. Maybe Cam had been right. At some point, Matt had to start cleaning up his own messes and fixing his own mistakes. At twenty-five years old, Matt had to stop being a fuck-up.

  With his unemployment application sent off Matt could concentrate getting ready for the grand opening of Steve’s new club. A club he should’ve been working at. Matt shoved those thoughts aside and got ready.

  He pulled on a pair of shorts that probably didn’t quite fit, and that’s what made them his absolute favorite. The shiny red shorts hugged his ass and showed off his entire package. It would be impossible for Steve to ignore him. In the mood for a bit of fun, Matt impulsively slathered himself with some glittery body lotion. He twisted and turned in the full-length mirror. He gave his ass a playful swat. Perfection.

  Dinner time had come and gone, and Matt hadn’t eaten. He should’ve taken the time to whip something up in his little kitchen (aka his hot plate and toaster oven) before he went to the club, but he wasn’t hungry. His nervous stomach knotted. It filled with butterflies and what-ifs. When it was finally time to leave he didn’t want to trudge down the street in nothing but his tiny shorts. He slid into a pair of track pants and pulled a T-shirt on over top. On his way out the door he grabbed a jacket.

  The club was in full swing when Matt arrived. A jolt of nerves had him considering slipping in the back through the employees' entrance, but he didn’t want
Steve to see him go in that way. He wanted Steve to see him walk in the front doors like any other patron. Cam might not have hired him, and it may not have gone entirely well with the unemployment office, but this was his big moment. Everything would be worth it soon.

  Stripped down to only his bright red shorts, Matt took a deep breath. He stepped into the club with his head held high and a smile far brighter and more confident than he felt. Like the magnet that he was, Matt’s gaze found Steve in the room almost immediately. He was tall and broad and commanding. Matt took a breath, adjusted his package, not caring who saw him, because, hello, kink club.

  Even from across the room Matt saw something flare in Steve’s gaze. Lust? Want? Need? Did Steve crave him the way he craved Steve? Matt drifted toward him, weaving through the crowd. Each step brought him closer to Steve, who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Matt. His dick twitched—that had to be a good sign, right? For the first time since Matt quit he felt as if he’d made the right decision.

  “Steve.” Matt tried to sound more casual than he felt as he stood both too close and not close enough. “The place looks great.”

  Hope flared in Matt as Steve’s gaze raked over his scantily clad body.

  “Are you covered in glitter?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

  Matt smirked. It was cocky and in that moment, so was he. He reached for Steve, slid a finger down the center of his shirt. “Play your cards right and you could be covered in glitter, too.”

  Heat and lust flashed in Steve’s eyes and for a fraction of a second, he looked at Matt, truly looked at him and saw him. Then the mask fell back into place and Matt’s heart shuddered to a stop.

  No.

  Steve took a step back. “Make sure you grab some food before you go. It’s on the house tonight, Matt.” Then he took a step back, but the sudden distance felt like miles, oceans, light-years. Whatever the unit of measure, Matt felt as if his chest would cave in under the weight of disappointment.

  “Steve, I…”

  “Have a good night, Matt.”

  Steve spun on his heel and walked away. Dismissed, Matt stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. How had everything gone so wrong so fast? He’d come on a little strong. Maybe that had been where he went wrong. Maybe the short-shorts and the body glitter and the blatant flirting were too much. Steve owned a kink club. It was Matt’s wet-dream come true, but maybe he’d fucked this all up. He should’ve stayed working for Steve. He could’ve come here and seen what Steve liked and he could’ve been that.

  Ice swept over Matt and before he knew exactly how he got there, he stood on the street in his T-shirt and track pants. He walked home with his arms wrapped around himself. Every so often he paused to rub his chest as if he could ease the ache somehow. He’d been rejected before, but this hurt. He’d lusted after and been in love with Steve for as long as he’d known the man. Okay, so it started out as lust, and he didn’t know Steve that well, but yeah, he loved him. He loved the way he commanded a room. He loved the way all his staff loved him and respected him.

  Matt entered his apartment. It wasn’t much. A dingy room in an old hotel. A tiny kitchenette sat next to an equally tiny bathroom. The rest of the space stood open. His bed also served as his couch. His dresser doubled as his TV stand. The small, dim space could use a paint job, but the rent was affordable, and it was his. It was the first place he ever had all on his own. If he didn’t have a massive pile of credit card debt, he’d be able to afford something way nicer. Matt curled up in his bed and didn’t move for three days.

  Three weeks later after the most depressing search for employment he’d ever been on, he came home to a letter from the unemployment office. Declined. He’d quit his job and therefore they decided he didn’t qualify.

  The paper trembled in Matt’s hands and he sunk down into his bed. He scrubbed at his face with his hands. Matt’s impulsive decisions had landed him in yet another impossible situation. Cam refused to hire him. He absolutely couldn’t go back and beg Steve for a job. He’d quit with hardly any notice. He’d told Steve he found a better job and wanted to move on. Steve would’ve filled the position by now and Matt didn’t want to risk Steve having to make a choice between him and a new hire. It wouldn’t be fair. Besides, Matt didn’t think he could face Steve ever again.

  Already strapped for cash after making the minimum payments on his credit cards, Matt packed what he could into his car. Doom swirled in Matt’s stomach as he dropped his keys in the landlord's mailbox. The key hit the bottom of the mailbox with a hollow ping that ricocheted through Matt. He’d hoped to escape eviction by lucking out and getting unemployment.

  One month after quitting his job, Matt parked at the far end of a grocery store parking lot. He wrapped himself in a blanket and tried to reconcile himself to the fact that he officially lived in his car. He spent his first night homeless not sleeping. Cam’s words from the last time kept circling around and around in his head. You fucked up again, Matty. I can’t believe this. You never think do you? Ever. Shit. Dammit. Fine, you can work here, but this is the last time I bail you out, do you understand? You’re twenty-two, Matty. You’re an adult. Start acting like one.

  The next morning Matt parked his car in a different spot and spent the day looking for work. The day ended up being the same as every other day he looked for work in the past month. Not hiring. Not hiring. Not hiring. We’ll keep your application on file. Thanks for stopping by. Not hiring. Not hiring. Not hiring.

  His second night on the streets, Matt cried himself to sleep.

  Chapter Two

  Steve

  The club had been open for a month and Steve had a hard time enjoying a single day of it’s successful reopening. His thoughts were plagued by visions of Matt. He could barely stand to step foot in his restaurant some mornings. Everywhere he looked he saw Matt and his floppy brown hair and his silly, flirty, smile. He heard echoes of his laughter in the kitchen and saw ghosts of him in the dining room. Customers asked after him. His replacement proved himself to be qualified and competent, but he wasn’t Matt and Steve hated him a little for that.

  The restaurant ran fine on its own most of the time. He hired competent people to manage the kitchen and the floor which left him free to spend most of his time at the club. At ten o’clock in the morning, his phone rang. Not recognizing the number on the display, Steve answered.

  “Steve Paulson.”

  “Mr. Paulson, this is Sam Givens. I’m the owner of Given’s Grocer over on tenth. I understand that you used to have a Matthew Simpson in your employ. He’s applied for work here and I have a couple of questions regarding his employment with you.”

  Steve furrowed his brow. His stomach swirled, and unease settled into his bones. Matt had a job. A great job. That’s why he quit. Steve guessed it had been the reason why Matt felt free to throw himself at Steve…or…the idea slapped him in the face. Did Matt quit his job so he could throw himself at Steve? Maybe that wasn’t the case. It was possible that whatever job he thought he had lined up had fallen through.

  “Sir?” The voice on the phone snapped him out of his thoughts.

  “Yeah, sorry. He worked here. Great guy. Hard worker.” Steve answered a few more questions from Sam before he ended the call. Dread made his stomach ache. If Matt had a great job to go to, he wouldn’t be looking for work at Given’s Grocer.

  Someone knocked softly on his office door. Brad, one of the people who transferred over from the restaurant entered a moment later. He carried a cardboard box.

  “What’s all that?” Steve asked as he tried to force thoughts of Matt out of his head. Matt was an adult. He could take care of himself.

  “I cleaned out the coat check and the change rooms. This is all the stuff that was left over.”

  “Set it down on the floor. I informed the members two weeks ago that we’d be cleaning that out. I’ll donate it later.”

  Brad set the box down, then disappeared with a quick nod.

  Lunch came and went, and
Steve didn’t notice. He’d gotten nothing done since that phone call from the grocer. The dingy grocer in a sketchy part of town if Steve remembered correctly. Steve’s stomach rumbled, and he briefly toyed with the idea of having the kitchen whip something up for him. Then his eye caught sight of the box he was supposed to donate to charity and he remembered the deli near the charity thrift shop. They’d been there for as long as Steve could remember, and they made the best Reuben on Rye that he’d ever tasted.

  He snatched his keys and shrugged into his coat. He bent over to pick up the box and spotted something familiar. A light grey windbreaker. Steve furrowed his brow, set the box down and pulled the jacket out. He examined it carefully. Matt’s coat. He’d worn it to so often that Steve would’ve recognized it anywhere. He clutched the jacket in his fist. He should call Matt and let him know it was here. But then Matt might slip in when he wasn’t around, and Steve wouldn’t get to see him.

  Steve stormed over to his computer and pulled up Matt’s record of employment. He punched Matt’s address into his phone and tore out of his office, leaving the box of lost and found items behind.

  Matt, as it turned out, didn’t live far from the club. He stared at the building. It had been a hotel at one point but got converted into housing. There were two floors and according to the address he’d lifted from the employment records, Matt lived on the ground floor. Unit number three.

  Steve climbed out of his car and approached the building. It wasn’t much to look at. Grey paint peeled revealing a rather ugly mustard-yellow underneath. Steve knocked on the door when unit four’s occupant, a young woman with a baby on her hip, came out. She stared at Steve and cocked an eyebrow up.

  “You here for Matt?”

  Steve’s heart stopped, and he dropped his hand. “Yeah. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

  The girl shook her head. “Shit. Guy lives here for two years and no one comes to visit him ever. Then he gets his ass evicted and suddenly he’s Mr. Popular.”