Caught on Camera: Part One by Lily Harlem Page A

hand, his eyes a little heavy and his lips wet from where he’d just licked them.
    Abruptly Cade tipped his head and appeared to stare straight at Reece. His shades caught a glint of sunshine and flashed like a beacon.
    A bolt of self-consciousness zapped through Reece. He turned away, embarrassed to have been caught gawking, and quickly made several strokes with his brush. The paint was thick and gloopy and he frowned when it traveled onto the window frame slightly.
    Again the mower noise altered.
    Reece strained his eyes without turning his head and was relieved to see that Cade was now walking back toward the pool again.
    He dipped his brush in the paint then wiped off the excess. As he straightened, a flash of flesh caught his attention.
    Cade had stopped and was peeling off his T-shirt, slowly sliding it upwards and revealing the chestnut-brown skin on his back and shoulders that glowed under the sun’s hot caress. His muscles were, as Reece had suspected, impressive—defined and taut with ridges that ran down the gutter of his spine that looked perfect for licking. He had two small dimples, just above the waistband of his jeans that Reece would love to get up close and personal with.
    Reece swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, as Cade again adjusted his shades then carried on with his task.
    This time when Cade turned around at the pool, Reece didn’t look away. He couldn’t. It was like magnetism, and damn the man was stacked. His pecs were perfect, thick squares dotted with small dark nipples, and his abs were a row of bricks. His body hair matched that on his head, lustrous, a little curly and with a tantalizing line heading from his navel to his denims.
    Reece could just imagine nuzzling his nose into that hair, smelling it, tasting it, drawing in the essence of Cade. He wondered what delights would stimulate his senses—sweat and dirt or maybe cut grass and flowers? He didn’t mind. He’d happily take either.
    Cade looked up at Reece again, but this time Reece held the man’s gaze for a full ten seconds, or at least he thought he did. It was hard with him wearing shades.
    Then, as coolly as he could, Reece went back to painting the section of wall by the window. His heart was beating fast and his skin prickled. He’d been hot before—the heatwave a constant burn—but now, with that long, sultry stare at a sexy, half-naked man, he was feeling positively steamy.
    He decided to take a break and get a drink. Mrs. Henley-Smythe had told him to help himself to the cans of Coke in the kitchen fridge. After balancing his brush on the edge of the paint pot, he went down the wide stairs, across the marble floored hallway and into the kitchen, but he didn’t pause at the refrigerator. He went to the utility room and washed his hands. The house was spotless and pristine. Everything from the taps to the toilets and the stair-railings to the door handles was of the highest specification. Reece had no idea what Mrs. Henley-Smythe’s husband did, but they were clearly rolling in it. Lucky buggers .
    Reece had just finished drying his hands on kitchen roll when he had an idea. He paused, thought for a moment then smiled to himself. There was one way to find out if Cade was gay and if that lingering eye contact had meant anything to him. He’d flash the goods and see if the gardener took the bait.
    He slipped his arms out of the straps on his white overalls and let the loops of material hang at his hips. In one quick movement, he peeled off his white T-shirt and folded it into three, the end section he poked into his back pocket so it hung down, rag-like, by his arse. With a slide of his arms, he realigned the straps, so they sat as braces, beside his nipples. He had nice nipples, so he’d been told. Permanently erect, small and with a few blond hairs sitting between them in a neat triangle.
    Happy with his cool and casual appearance, Reece wandered into the kitchen, pulled open the fridge and grabbed two cans of Coke.