Excerpt: What Not to Wear by Clare London

[reviews_and_ramblings]

What Not to Wear by Clare London
Release Date: 07/2009
Publisher: Torquere Books
Publisher Link: http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=2708

Blurb: Beckett and Doug work together, travel together, live together… play together. And they’re easily distracted by their desires, wherever they happen to be. The work week starts normally for the newly promoted Beckett, but that’s soon disturbed by his lover's sexual provocation. As each day of the week passes, Doug’s behavior, and the slogan on his T-shirt, gets increasingly outrageous. Add in his equally outrageous libido and the two men’s fascination for sex in risky places, and their career prospects are soon completely out of control!

Excerpt:

The elevator lurched up from the lobby, shaking the passengers against each other. “Disgraceful overcrowding,” someone grumbled at the front of the car. Phrases such as 'infringement of civil liberties' and 'invasion of personal space' were muttered elsewhere. A man near the front of the car insisted he was on his way to speak to Health and Safety about the building's access provisions, though his voice was rather muffled against the faux fur collar of another woman's coat. Beckett glared at Doug, who was nodding in sober agreement with all of the complaints, especially from the woman whose toe Beckett had squashed.

They stopped at the fourth floor and the doors slid open. Several people stumbled out, and the others sighed with relief. Moving around in an attempt to find more space, Beckett saw Doug loosen the button of his jacket so that it fell open casually. Or maybe not so casually. Just before Beckett was nudged back up against the side of the car, he caught sight of his lover and colleague's T-shirt. His gut gave a familiar churn and his mouth dried. Doug smirked and brushed a hand down under the jacket’s lapel. The writing was further exposed.

If you're already this close, why don't you just jerk me off?

“Good God.” Beckett hissed the words out, trying not to be heard by anyone else around him. A stress pain was nagging at his right temple, and he hadn't even started work yet. “I thought we said...”

Doug bent his head closer. “You bought this one, too,” he whispered. “Remember?"

Beckett flushed and grimaced back. He felt an instinctive -- and not entirely unpleasant – throb in his groin. Damned man. He shook his head and mouthed a silent, “Selective amnesia.”

The elevator lurched to a stop at the sixth floor. Half of the remaining people tumbled out. An umbrella got caught around a man's legs, and there were more irritable complaints. The door closed again, and the passengers rearranged their positions. Beckett stumbled a few steps and found his back against the far wall. Doug was still pressed up against him. Beckett scowled into Doug’s face, but that didn't seem to deter Doug in the least.

In fact, Beckett was rather afraid he recognized that gleam in Doug's eyes, and it wasn't eagerness for the work day ahead. He glared back. He'd once discovered some graffiti on the restroom wall that referred to his managerial 'death glare.' But if there was one employee he'd never suspected of the willful damage, it had been Doug Jensen. The man had never been intimidated by anything Beckett did. Well, maybe a few things, but they were far from appropriate here and now. Beckett felt his groin throb again.

Doug coughed as if to regain Beckett's attention. As Beckett stared, Doug caught his lower lip between his teeth and ran a hand back inside his jacket. On his T-shirt, the word jerk creased up, the fabric jerking to match. Beckett knew Doug was pinching and caressing his nipple under the shirt; he knew that glazed look of delight and mischief in Doug's eyes.

“Do it,” mouthed Doug, nodding down at the slogan on his chest. “You're close enough.” He reached down for Beckett's wrist and pulled it up against the front of his pants.

Without any further encouragement, Beckett's traitorous fingers closed around the swelling he found.

Over Doug's shoulder, Beckett could see the back of people's heads as they waited for the next stop. The woman in the faux fur coat was wrestling with her purse, trying to reach her comb; a man swung his briefcase backward, nearly digging into the back of Doug's thigh. Near the front of the car, Beckett thought he recognized the poor haircut of one of the administration assistants from the Human Resources department.

“Never,” he mouthed to Doug in return.

Doug grinned and rubbed up against him, the hard shape of his dick pressing into Beckett's palm.

Beckett groaned to himself. He'd never acknowledged the existence of the word surrender until Doug joined his team -- and started wearing down any inhibitions Beckett still clung to. Desire overtook common sense. He had no time to dwell on the fact that epitomized his relationship with Jensen. He shook off Doug's grasp and his fingers flipped open the button of Doug's pants. The sliding zip sounded hideously loud, but no one turned around. Floors eight and nine came and went; so did three more occupants. Beckett slid his hand down into Doug's boxers. He met his lover's eyes and was gratified to see shock in them. Beckett could feel a pulse beat along Doug’s swelling cock, the flesh damp against Beckett's skin.

When the rest of the travelers exited at the tenth floor, Beckett and Doug didn't move. Beckett had barely registered the chime as the elevator ground to another halt. He was having trouble focusing his eyes, let alone his mind. His palm was wrapped tightly around Doug's bare cock and he was pumping it as vigorously as the space allowed. Doug leaned in against him, eyes half shut and a dangerously feverish flush on his cheeks.

“This your floor?” called a guy at the door, holding a finger on the button to keep it open. Doug's eyes rolled up and a strangled gasp escaped from the side of his mouth. Beckett felt Doug’s erection grow thicker; the pre-come slipped stickily against Beckett’s fingertips. He wanted to smirk but struggled to keep his expression composed. Doug was close. Very close. Beckett's hand knew the signs.

“We're fine,” he called over. He looked back at Doug. “Aren't we, Jensen?"

“Plenty of room to spread out now, at least,” joked the guy at the door, a little uneasily. He took his finger off the button slowly. Maybe he wasn't sure why the two remaining guys were still crushed up against each other at the back. The door slid across, closing off his growing puzzlement. The elevator started its final ascent to the fourteenth floor.

Beckett squeezed, vindictively.