Chapter One
London, England a few years back

“Mod, what the hell? You’ve got to be taking the piss!” The indecent proposal he’d just passed along could not be real. Not from Angie, who’d been their mate since third form and had followed them to Uni.

Mod laughed. “I swear, T, I’m not!”

Tatou stared at his brother. Like looking into a mirror really, except that their mother’s Thai features were more obvious on him. Mod’s dark eyes were a touch narrower. And the grin on his full, pouty lips was always slightly more mischievous. The way he always slicked his black hair up into a fauxhawk only emphasized his devilish appearance. At least Tatou thought so. “Then Angie’s taking the piss. These girls are mates.”

In the main room of the suite, the girls’ pajama party Angela had invited them to rang on. Some mates. Mild-mannered women by day, they’d transformed into ten horny college birds, giggling. An occasional cackle.

Mod took a swig of his beer and clapped him on the back. “Ask her yourself, T. She swears it wasn’t her idea. Someone who finds the two of us quite fit asked her to pass the offer along.” He hooked his arm so that Tatou’s neck rested in its crook, and pressed their cheeks together, giving Tatou a whiff of his cologne. Spicy. Too good. “Just think, T, a hundred quid for a few seconds’ snog.”

Tatou wrenched out of his brother’s loose hold, but not before a frisson went through parts of him it shouldn’t have, parts he’d worked bloody hard to keep under control for a long time. “There are so many reasons we shouldn’t do that.”

“Hey, guys!” Angie’s voice shot from the room followed by another shriek of laughter. The volume in the already incense and music-filled room rose. The natives were getting restless. And they wanted what a hundred quid would buy them.

That did nothing to wipe away Mod’s shit-eating grin. The barmy bugger. He was always up for anything. But this? Did he really mean to tempt fate this way? A terribly disturbing thought flashed into his mind and he prayed that Mod would be drunk enough not to play the one card that might get him to give in to Angie’s request.

“Name one reason, T.” Shit, Mod was determined to push him.

“Well, first of all, Moddie, taking money for sexual activity is prostitution.”

That pulled a throaty laugh from his heavily-buzzed brother. “The world’s oldest profession. Nothing to scoff at. Okay, T. And what are the other reasons?”

“Well, there’s one other, really.” Tatou stepped in closer. Gay they both were, but that didn’t mean you sucked face with your own brother. He had spent too much time and energy training himself to block that track in his thoughts since his mind tried ever so hard to go there and to bring his body with it. “In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re my brother? There’ve got to be a few injunctions in the Bible that tell us exactly where we’re going to end up if we snog. Especially for a room full of horny chicks.”

For the first time since Mod had pulled him out of the party room to tell him what Angie and her fellow suite mates wanted, his grin faded. “I don’t see the problem in that. We have our own forms of affection, or have you forgotten?” He leaned in and nuzzled Tatou’s cheek. His brother’s soft lips made his skin tingle. And other body parts that would remain nameless. He closed his eyes. They’d shared a room in their family’s tiny flat all their lives and often helped each other fall asleep by what they called “fitting.” It had only been here at Uni that they only occasionally practiced fitting which of course, required that one of them climb out of his own bed and get into the other’s. Truthfully, he missed the closeness. They were best friends. Didn’t go anywhere apart. Not even meals. Only once in a while they took a course for their majors that was different. Not even dating, limited though it had been so far in their twenty-two years. An occasional threesome in which the third guy was the focus, not each other. They really were two halves of one whole.

But now, it was time to be…normal. If he had anything to say about it, he and Mod would each find their own guy and settle down. In neighboring flats, perhaps, so they’d always be close by to each other, but not with each other. Being in school, so many people in the dorm all the time had kept them both…apart, you could say. Kissing was not going to help. Then Mod’s nuzzling lips feathered a trail toward his ear, toward the sensitive flesh of his earlobe…

With a hand on Mod’s chest, Tatou pushed him so that Mod was forced to take a step back. “Forget it.”

“There you guys are! What’s going on? The girls are going to come after you if you take any longer.” Angie, dressed in a pink silky nightgown and fuzzy slippers, danced her blonde-headed way over and put her arms around both their shoulders, swaying in time to the bass beat that made the floorboards vibrate. “I’ve got the collection going already. And…” She lifted her head up, a triumphant gleam in her hazel eyes, “There’s another fifty quid in it if you take your shirts off.”

Mod’s eyes widened. “Bloody hell!” He turned on Tatou. “T, if you don’t do this, you’re the bloodiest prat ever!” He narrowed his eyes. “Forget your stupid ideas of hell and damnation. We need this money for our trip!”

Dammit. Mod hadn’t been too drunk to play the trip card. Tatou exhaled. Their graduation present to themselves, partially funded by Mum and Dad after graduation. A whole summer in Japan. At that special place in Tokyo Mod had found on the Net. Honestly, they were headed for one of the most expensive cities in the world. They could use all the extra dosh they could get. That hundred and fifty quid would go right into their travel fund. He heaved a sigh. Mod wanted to go to this place more than he did but he never went anywhere without Mod. If he refused and made things more difficult, he’d hurt Mod’s dream and that was something he never wanted to do. Not to the person he loved and admired most in the whole world. Even if it meant…shattering what bit of self-control he’d been able to muster. Fuck’s sake. “All right. Let’s do it.”

Angie let out a girl squeal. “This is going to be so hot!” She hooked her arms through both of theirs and led them back into the crowded room.

Shite. The common room of Angie’s suite looked more like what Tatou imagined the inside of Chippendale’s looked like on a weekend night, except that the patrons were dressed in nightgowns, pajamas and slippers and were draped all over the sofas, chairs and floor of the suite’s common room, full of pillows and blankets. With a few stuffed animals thrown in. The shrieks of delight drowned out the music as Angie led them to the front of the room where there was a small space away from the heat generated by all those horny girls hungering to watch a guy kiss.

The sight made his heart pound and throat tighten. His mind fogged and his vision blurred. Up until this moment, he’d been as much the impish tease in their group of friends as Mod was, sometimes more so. Now, with all those pairs of female eyes on him and his brother, knowing what they wanted, were giving up fifteen quid apiece for, what was more nerve-racking? All this lustful attention and expectation, or the fact that he was about to break his personal taboo? Kissing…with their shirts off no less!

A hand clapped on his shoulder. He turned.

Mod was grinning at him, the corner of his full lips turned up. “C’mon, mate, let’s give ‘em their money’s worth, eh?” Before Tatou could answer, Mod released his shoulder. His hands went to the hem of his own T-shirt, lifted it off and flung it aside in one swoop. Eliciting, of course, another chorus of feminine catcalls.

Tatou glanced at his brother’s slim torso. Another shiver of electric heat travelled through him. Am I really so narcissistic that Mod turns me on?

Mod stepped up to him. “You’re taking too long,” he said and grasped two fistfuls of Tatou’s shirt. A sharp yank forced Tatou’s arms up and before he knew it, the air of the room hit his bare skin and another round of lusty girl cheers pounded through his head. These girls were mates but he swore he didn’t recognize them now, a feral lot of she-wolves in heat.

But then Mod’s hands closed around his upper arms and Mod’s dark eyes bore into his. The mischievous gleam he knew so well shone out of them, a direct reflection of his own, of course. But in private, they had their own world, a communication that didn’t need words. Whatever Mod really felt about what they were doing would surely come out later once they were back in their own room two floors below this one. Especially if he thought Tatou was mad at him for it. Cheeky as Mod was, his brother’s concerns were his and he cared. Always cared…

Tatou’s gaze fell on Mod’s lips. His consciousness registered that the room had grown quiet, except for the music, which had fallen to a slow dance kind of love ballad.

Wordlessly, Mod pulled him close. Their bare chests touched, then pressed. Warm skin grew warmer from their combined heat. The embrace forced Tatou’s arms out. At first he let them hang at his sides, but then the pressure was too much. This trip meant everything to Mod… The moment took over and he reached around…let his hands rest on the small of Mod’s back. The hard ridges of muscles along Mod’s spine met his fingertips. Tan-hued skin, smooth and perfect. Even though their dad was English, there were some Mediterranean ancestors mixed in so the golden hue and shiny, dark hair came from him as well as Mum.

Mod leaned in and pressed his lips on the side of Tatou’s neck. Tatou’s eyelids fluttered. That felt too good and he tilted his head. Mod feathered a small kiss there, right over the pulse, then licked. Tatou let out a breath and squeezed Mod’s back. Good thing their fronts were pressed together or all these women would get an eyeful of a hard-on growing in the front of his jeans. Their audience was getting well more than a hundred fifty quid’s worth as far as he was concerned.