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    MEGAN HART

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    DID YOU PURCHASE THIS BOOK WITHOUT A COVER?If you did, you should be aware it is stolen propertyas it was

    reported unsold and destroyed by a retailer.Neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment

    for this book.

    First Published 2010First Australian Paperback Edition 2013ISBN 978 174356468 4

    NAKED 2010 by Megan HartPhilippine Copyright 2010

    Australian Copyright 2010

    New Zealand Copyright 2010

    Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilisation of this work in wholeor in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now knownor hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or inany information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission ofthe publisher, Harlequin Enterprises, Locked Bag 7002, Chatswood D.C. N.S.W.,Australia 2067.

    This book is sold subject to the condition that shall not, by way of trade or

    otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the priorconsent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which itis published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposedon the subsequent purchaser.

    All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in anyform. This edition is published in arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A..

    This is a work of ction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either theproduct of the authors imagination or are used ctitiously, and any resemblanceto actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales isentirely coincidental.

    Published byHarlequin SPICE

    An imprint of Harlequin Enterprises

    Level 4132 Arthur Street

    NORTH SYDNEY NSW 2060AUSTRALIA

    and are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its corporateafliates and used by others under licence. Trademarks marked with an areregistered in Australia and in other countries. Contact [email protected] details

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    Alex doesnt like girls. Patrick said this like a warning.Id been staring at the man from the corner of my eye,

    framing him as part of the overall picture here at Patricks

    annual Chrismukkah party. Alex was prettier than the bunches

    of Martha Stewartinspired poinsettias and twinkling fairylights, but so were all the men here. Patrick had the hottest

    friends Id ever seen. Seriously, it was like a convention of hot

    men. After Patricks admonishment I looked Alex over again

    more closely, mostly just to jerk Patricks chain. He was so easy

    that way.

    Is that his name?

    Patrick gave a low snort of disapproval. Yes, thats his

    name.

    Alex what?

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    glass, warming it. The rich, strong scent of red wine wafted

    under my nostrils. I could taste the aroma on the back of my

    tongue, but I didnt sip. He doesnt like girls, huh?Patrick pursed his mouth and crossed his arms. No. Jesus,

    Olivia, stop ogling his ass.

    I raised an eyebrow, mirroring Patricks earlier expression.

    An old habit and one I knew irritated the shit out of him. It

    seemed like that kind of night. Why do you invite me to

    your parties if its not to ogle mens asses?Patrick huffed and puffed and frowned brief ly before he

    mustve remembered what that did to the lines around his

    mouth, and he forced his face to neutral smoothness. His gaze

    followed mine across the dining room and through the

    archway. Alex had his back to us, one arm on the mantelpieceof the living-room fireplace. He had a glass of Guinness. Hed

    been holding it for as long as Id been watching, but I hadnt

    seen him drink from it even once.

    And you feel an especial need to point this out to

    mewhy? I sipped more wine and stared him down.

    Patrick shrugged. Just thought Id make sure you knew.I looked around at the half-dozen men helping themselves

    to the buffet, and then through the arch to the living room

    where another dozen men chatted or danced or f lirted.

    Ninety-nine percent of them were gay and the other one

    percent was thinking about it. I think I know better than to

    expect to get laid at one of your parties, Patrick.

    Before I could comment further, a pair of thick, muscled

    arms gripped my waist from behind and a tight belly pressed

    along my back. Run away with me and see how long it takes

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    I twisted, giving in to laughter at the tickling touch of a

    beard on my earlobe, and turned. Patrick, you didnt tell me

    you were inviting Billy Dee Williams to your party! Oh,waitBilly Dee would never wear that sweater. Hey, Teddy.

    Girl, dont you be making fun of this sweater. Mama

    McDonald sent me this sweater and her boy Patrick got one

    just like it. Teddy dropped Patrick a wink. Difference is, Im

    man enough to wear it.

    I got a hug, a squeeze, a kiss and a pat on the ass all within

    the span of seconds before Teddy moved on to provide the

    same for Patrick. Patrick, still pouting, swatted at the bigger

    man and pushed him away while Teddy laughed and swiped

    a hand over Patricks hair. Patrick scowled and smoothed his

    ruff led feathers, but allowed Teddy to kiss his cheek a momentlater.

    I gestured with my wineglass. Hes trying to tell me not

    to ogle an ass.

    What? I thought we were all here to ogle mens asses.

    Teddy shook his, I shook mine; we did The Bump and dis-solved into the sort of laughter helped along by a liberal

    helping of holiday cheer. Patrick watched us with his arms

    crossed and eyebrow lifted. Then he shook his head.

    Pardon me for trying to be a friend, he said.

    Patrick and I had been friends for a long time. Once, long

    ago, wed been more than that. Patrick thought that gave him

    the right to be my aunt Nancy and I let him becausewell,

    because I loved him. And because there was never been too

    much love in my life to turn any small bit of it away.

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    medium-brown hair that looked as though hed run a hand

    through it one too many timesor just rolled out of bed. Hair

    like that took lots of product and effort to look good, and hisdid. I had an impression of handsome features more than an

    actual view, and some of that was assumption. Alex was very

    pretty, there was no doubt about it, but if Patrick hadnt gone

    all dontcha dare on me, I probably wouldve looked once,

    maybe twice, and never again.

    How come Ive never met him?Hes not from around here, Patrick said.

    I looked back at the man Patrick seemed so desperate for

    me to ignore. Alex appeared to be locked in deep conversa-

    tion with another of Patricks friends, their faces intense and

    serious. Not f lirting. The man across from Alex drank angrily,his throat working.

    I didnt need to lift my hands, thumb to thumb and pointer

    to pointer, to make a frame for the picture I was composing.

    My mind did that automatically at the same time it filled in

    the details of their story. Snap, click. I didnt have my camera,

    but I could imagine the shot, just the same. I framed Alex inmy head, slightly off center and a little out of focus.

    Patrick muttered and poked me in the side. Olivia!

    I looked at him again. Stop being such a mother hen,

    Patrick. Do you think Im an idiot?

    He frowned. No. I dont think youre an idiot. I just dont

    want

    Teddy came back just then, so whatever Patrick wanted got

    swallowed behind a tight, hard smile. I recognized it, along

    with the look in his eyes. I hadnt seen it for a long time, but

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    close to nuzzle at his cheek. Come on. The cheese trays been

    decimated and were almost out of wine. Come to the kitchen

    with me, love, and Ill give you a little treat.Until Teddy, Patrick had never stayed with anyone longer

    than hed been with me. I adored Teddy despite this, or

    maybe because of it. I knew Patrick loved him, though he

    hardly ever said so, and because I loved Patrick I wanted him

    to be happy.

    Patricks hard glance cut across the room again, to Alex andback to me. I thought he might say something more, but

    instead he shook his head and let Teddy lead him away. Me,

    I took another ogle at Alex Kennedys very, very fine ass.

    Livvy! Merry holidays! This came from Jerald, another

    of Patricks friends, and a man whod done some modelingfor me more than once. I traded him some nice head shots

    for his portfolio in exchange for using him in some stock

    photos I needed for my graphic design business. When are

    you going to take more pictures of me, huh?

    When can you come in?

    Jerald grinned with perfect white teeth and a smile asstraight as he was not. Whenever you need me.

    We chatted for a few minutes about when and where, and

    for what, and then Jerald gave me a hug and a squeeze and a

    kiss before abandoning me in search of someone with a penis.

    That was all right. I didnt need Patrick to hover over me to

    make me feel at home. I knew most of his friends. The ones

    of recent acquaintance viewed me as a curiosity, a relic, the

    woman whod been with Patrick before he came out, but they

    were friendly enough. Liquor helped, of course. Friends

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    happened when Patrick and I were a couple without the half-

    disguised gleam of pity his newer, gay friends often gave me.

    Booze helped that, too.Wineglass in hand, I made my way over to the buffet to

    load my plate with all sorts of delicacies. Squares of Indian

    naan bread paired with spicy hummus, cubes of cheese dipped

    in cranberry honey mustard, a few purple grapes still clinging

    to their stem. Patrick and Teddy knew how to throw a party,

    and even the Saturday after Thanksgiving, I still had room forfood as good as they served. I was debating about sampling

    the slices of rare roast beef settled next to the crusty French

    rolls or the waistline-conscious strawberry walnut salad when

    a tap on my shoulder turned me.

    Hey, girl!I stopped with a roll in my hand, halfway to my plate. I

    knew Patricks neighbor, Nadia. Shed always gone out of her

    way to be friendly to me, not that she had any reason not to

    be. Id always thought Nadias overtures of friendship had less

    to do with me and more with her, and tonight was proving

    that suspicion correct.I want you to meet Carlos. My boyfriend. Nadia had a

    pretty smile in an otherwise unremarkable face, but when she

    used it I wanted to take her picture. It transformed her.

    Meetcha, Carlos mumbled, his eyes on the food, though

    Nadias hand held him in such a tight grip he couldnt actually

    grab any.

    Nice to meet you, Carlos.

    Nadia gave us both an expectant look. Carlos and I gave

    each other the once-over, his dark eyes traveling over my

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    skin was very white against his. I think we both knew what

    she wanted, but neither of us was going to give it.

    I didnt know I was black until second grade. Oh, sure, Idalways known my skin was darker than my parents and

    brothers. My features not the same. Theyd never hidden the

    fact that I was adopted, and we celebrated not only my

    birthday but the date I became part of their family. I never

    felt anything less than loved completely. Cherished. Spoiled,

    even, by two much older brothers, and parents Id know laterwere trying to overcompensate for the cesspool their marriage

    had become.

    Id always believed I was special, but until second grade Id

    never understood I wasdifferent.

    Desiree Johnson moved to my school in Ardmore fromsomeplace closer to inner-city Philadelphia. She wore her hair

    in hundreds of tiny braids close to her scalp and clipped at

    the ends with plastic barrettes. She wore T-shirts with gold

    shiny lettering, and soft velour track pants, her sneakers star-

    tlingly white and huge for the size of her feet. She was dif-

    ferent, and we all stared when she came into our classroom.The teacher, Miss Dippold, had told us only that morning

    wed be getting a new student. Shed taken care to mention

    how important it was to be kind to new students, especially

    those who werent the same. Shed read us a story about

    Zeke, the pony with stripes whod turned out not to be a pony

    at all but a zebra. Even in second grade, Id seen the end of

    that one coming from a mile away.

    What I hadnt seen coming was Miss Dippolds command

    to me to shift my desk so Desiree could sit beside me. I

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    speller for that week, with my name on the board and first-

    in-line privileges for recess? Or had Miss Dippold noticed

    how Id lent Billy Miller my best pencil, since hed left his athome again? My desk scraped along the f loor, curling small

    shavings of polish off the wood as I moved it aside so Randall,

    the janitor, could f it in another desk and chair for Desiree.

    It was none of those reasons, but one Id never have

    guessed.

    There, Miss Dippold said when Desiree had settledherself into the new desk and chair. Desiree, this is Olivia.

    Im sure youll be best friends.

    Desirees barrettes clacked against one another as she turned

    her head to look up and down at my pleated skirt, knee-high

    socks and buckled Mary Janes. My hair, twisted into tight curlsand held back with a matching headband. My cardigan

    sweater.

    For a second-grader, Desiree already had a lot of attitude.

    You got to be kidding me.

    Miss Dippold blinked behind her huge tortoiseshell glasses.

    Desiree? Is there a problem?She gave a world-weary sigh. No, Miss Dippold. Nothing

    wrong with me.

    Later, just before lunch, I leaned to take a peek at the

    drawings she was making on her notepad. Mostly swirls and

    circles, shaded with pencil. I showed her my own doodles,

    which werent as elaborate.

    I like to draw, too, I said.

    Desiree checked out my drawings and snorted. Uh-huh.

    Maybe thats why Miss Dippold thought wed be friends,

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    Desirees brows rose up to meet her hairline. She looked

    around at the others, classmates who were getting restless in

    anticipation of sloppy joes and afternoon recess. She lookedback at me, then took my hand and laid it next to hers.

    Against the pale gray desktops, our fingers stood out like

    shadows.

    Miss Dippold didnt know anything about my drawing,

    Desiree said. She meant its cuz were both, you know.

    Both what?Now she gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes at me.

    Her whole tone changed. Because were both black.

    It was my turn to blink rapidly, trying to take all of this in.

    I looked around the room, at a sea of white faces. Caitlyn

    Caruso was adopted, too, from China, and she looked differ-ent than the other kids. But Desiree was right. Shed pointed

    it out as if I shouldve known all along.

    I was black. This revelation stunned me into silence for the

    rest of the day, until I went home and took down all our

    family albums to f lip through page after page of photos. I was

    black! Id been black my entire life! How had I never noticedit before?

    The answer was simplemy parents had never said so,

    never made it a big deal. Id been brought up to appreciate

    diversity. I had little choice. Born to a white mother and a

    black father, Id been adopted as an infant by parents in a

    mixed marriage, though of religion, not race. My nonprac-

    ticing Jewish mom had married my fallen-away Catholic dad

    and theyd raised two sons together in a haphazard clash of

    holidays until they divorced when I was f ive. We never talked

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    Desiree didnt stay long in our class. Her family moved

    again a few months later. But I never forgot her for pointing

    out to me what I shouldve known my whole life.But heres the thing about people like Nadia, who pride

    themselves on being color-blindin the end, all they see is

    color. Nadia hadnt introduced me to her boyfriend because

    we both liked to draw, or we both listened to Depeche Mode,

    or even just to be polite. Carlos and I knew it.

    Nadia didnt get it. She chattered on between us, droppingnames as if I should know them, referencing hip-hop songs.

    Carlos caught my gaze and gave me a small shrug she didnt

    see. He looked at her with obvious affection, though, stopping

    her finally with a single murmured, Baby.

    Nadia laughed, looking confused. Huh?If you dont let me eat some of this food, Im going to

    pass out.

    Carlos works out a lot, Nadia confided as her boyfriend

    began to decimate the buffet table. Hes always hungry.

    I was saved from having to comment by the kerfuff le

    arising in the living room. Id still been aware of Alex Kennedyat the corner of my vision. He hadnt strayed from the f ire-

    place. The man hed been talking to had raised his voice and

    his hands, gesturing and pointing. Accusing.

    This would not be the first time drama had exploded at

    Patricks house; throw a party for a bunch of queens and there

    are never enough crowns to go around, as he was fond of

    saying. I wasnt the only one who turned to watch, either.

    Alex, instead of engaging in the back-and-forth, only shook

    his head and lifted his beer to his lips.

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    the fireplace for the object of his attention. Yep. Alex

    Kennedy.

    Somehow I didnt think a ring had ever been put on anypart of him but his cock.

    Perk up, Teddy advised, and f illed my glass with wine I

    didnt want. Partys not over yet.

    I groaned and leaned against him. Maybe I should just

    head home.

    He shook his head with a laugh and patted his pocket. Gotyour keys.

    I lifted my glass. If you hadnt insisted on keeping this

    full

    We both laughed. Id spent so many nights in their guest

    room his insistence on me staying had almost nothing to dowith the fact Id been drinking. Now, though, as I watched

    through the arched doorway to the living room-cum-dance

    f loor, I wished Id been smarter and not planned ahead to

    spend the night; I wished I could walk from here, but it was

    too cold and dark and too long a way. I wished I could hitch

    a ride with someone, but though a few guests had already left,most were still in full-on celebration mode and none of them

    lived out my way.

    I hid another yawn. I think I need some coffee.

    Teddy frowned. Poor Livvy. Always working so hard.

    If I dont, nobody else will do it for me. I shrugged.

    Well, Im impressed. Striking out on your own. Quitting

    your job. Patrick didnt think youd stick with it. Teddy

    looked momentarily uncomfortable, as if hed spilled a secret.

    I know he didnt.

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    plishments, but I didnt say so. Instead, I let Teddy hug and

    pet me a little, because hes like a cuddlier version of the Borg

    from Star Trek. Resistance is futile. Not only that, but Im asucker for a big man in a Santa sweater; what can I say?

    I handed him my glass of wine. Im going for some coffee.

    Or at least a Coke or something.

    I couldve just gone to bed, but with the party still in full

    swing it was unlikely Id be able to sleep. Patricks kitchen was

    kitschy cute, complete with a swinging-tailed kitty clock andretro-looking appliances. Well, except for the space-age

    espresso machine, the fancy kind that steamed milk and used

    those special pods. Id never learned to use it and in fact didnt

    dare touch it in case I dialed something wrong and sent us all

    back to the Stone Age. Id be the one to step on the butter-f ly.

    I knew he had a regular coffeemaker someplace, but a

    search of the cabinets didnt turn one up. Patrick never got

    rid of anythingand I mean never, not his favorite T-shirt

    or a lamp with a broken switch. Hell, obviously not me. He

    hoarded belongings and people like the Zombpocalypse wascoming and the only way to survive was by building a new

    civilization out of outdated wardrobes, nonfunctioning ap-

    pliancesand past lovers. I knew he still had that coffee-

    maker.

    Maybe on the screened back porch, plastic-sheeted now for

    protection against the winter. Patrick had stored a couple

    dozen boxes of miscellaneous crap there, promising Teddy

    hed sort through it, but never doing so. His espresso machine

    was new, so there was an excellent chance hed simply moved

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    door and went onto the porch. I hissed out heat and broke at

    once into goose-pimply shivers. I didnt turn on the overhead

    light, but went for the first stack of boxes. Didnt f ind the cof-feemaker, just a collection of porn mags I f lipped through

    with numb, fumbly fingers and shoved back inside the box.

    It was the closest I was likely to get to an erection tonight,

    and dont think I didnt mourn that fact just a little.

    Starting my own business had been great for my ego and

    sense of satisfaction. Itd been hell on my bank account and

    my sex life. No time to date, no time to invest in another

    person, even if Id found someone I thought would be worth

    making an effort for. No time even for casual f lirting, since

    working for myself meant I was alone most of the time. My

    other two jobs, the ones Id kept so I could cover mymortgage, werent exactly conducive to meeting men. Taking

    school and sports team photos required a lot of traveling, and

    though I met many a DILFa dad Id like to fuckmost of

    them were married. My job at Foto Folks was fun and paid

    well, but my clients were invariably middle-aged womenlooking for boudoir shots or moms who brought their kids

    to get pictures taken in front of giant stuffed bears. Id devel-

    oped a severe allergy to feather boas. I was run-down, but I

    was happy. I was tired and sometimes stressed, but I was doing

    what I loved.

    I was also officially undersexed.

    Cmon, Patrick, whered you put it? I moved toward the

    porchs far end, around the sheet-covered wicker furniture and

    behind a large stack of lawn chairs. Ah, bingo.

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    shook my head, and turned at the sound of the back door

    opening behind me.

    Freeze-frame.Two silhouettes appeared in the doorway. Men. The smaller

    one shoved the bigger one against the wall. Oh. I got it. I was

    ready to clear my throat and announce my presence when the

    taller man turned his face toward the light.

    How could I have ever thought him commonly, regularly

    handsome? Alex Kennedys profile made me want to weep,if only because there are too few people in this life who are

    so beautiful while also being so real. In full light everything

    on his face had lined up just right. Here, now, with shadow

    splitting him in half, I could see his nose was too sharp, his

    lower jaw a little too undercut for perfection. His hair fell overhis forehead, and he grimaced as the man in front of him

    dropped to his knees and unzipped Alexs trousers.

    I still had time to call out a warning. They were far gone,

    maybe drunk or maybe just so deep in their lust they werent

    paying attention to anything else, but I couldve stopped them

    if I really wanted to. I didnt.Evan, the low, creamy voice that must belong to Alex

    said. You dont have to do this.

    Shut up.

    The shadows morphed into f igures again, one standing tall,

    the other crouched at his feet. The light from the streetlamp

    down the alley was barely bright enough to illuminate

    anything, but it was enough to show me what was going on.

    And, I thought, to block me from their view if theyd

    bothered to look, since I was in the far corner and settled deep

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