by R. J. Scott
“I like you, Lucien Magrello.”
“I sense a but.”
“There’s always a but.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a prince, you’re not, you’re too old for me, blah blah.”
Max chuckled and squeezed tight. “I’m only three years older than you, and I may not be a prince, but my great-granddad’s uncle’s niece worked for Winston Churchill in World War Two. I have pedigree, you know.” He was teasing and Lucien knew he should be laughing but all he could feel was embarrassed that he’d even said what he said. What was it about Max that made Lucien come out with some real crap?
“So it’s the bodyguard thing, then.”
“It’s a compromise.”
“You can’t tell me bodyguards don’t end up kissing some of their clients.”
Max snorted a laugh and hid it behind a cough before making a big show of drinking his coffee. “Real life isn’t like the film.”
“What film?”
“The Bodyguard.”
Lucien dipped his eyes. He didn’t recall ever seeing that film, his sheltered childhood had a lot to answer for, not least that he also hadn’t actually seen Captain America, which Jamie assured him was like heaven for the gays. Jamie said a lot of crap like that. Lucien had actually looked up clips on YouTube and couldn’t at first see what was supposed to amuse him, until the shirtless scene… he’d played that a lot. Come to think of it, Max reminded him a little of the Captain America guy, only shorter. Same blond hair and just a way of holding himself that…
“Earth to prince, earth to prince.” Max waved his free hand in front of Lucien’s face, and Lucien blinked back to the here and now.
“Sorry, you were saying?”
“Just that we should maybe think of getting to bed. It’s one a.m. and you have practice in just over five hours.”
“Not the day after an event. I always have that day off.”
Silence.
Awkward expectant silence that Lucien hated. He hadn’t meant anything by that simple statement. He wasn’t arguing with Max or asking Max for more, he’d been stating fact, but it felt like he’d committed some huge social faux pas. His need to survive the awkwardness kicked in and pulled his hand free of Max’s, then stood up, faking a yawn as he did.
“You don’t have to go,” Max said. He looked a little confused, and who could blame him. Lucien was completely fucked up and didn’t know what the hell to do with all this lust and embarrassment coursing through him.
“I do. I’m tired. Well done today,” he said. Before Max could say a thing in return, Lucien was up the stairs and into his room with his door shut. He couldn’t process this roller coaster, and for a few moments, he wondered if Max was going to come up after him. He waited with bated breath. What would he do if Max wanted to do more kissing—or more than just kissing? What if Max pushed past what was right in this situation and actually made Lucien do the same thing?
When Max didn’t immediately run up the stairs and push open Lucien’s door, Lucien deflated. Whether from relief or disappointment, it was hard to tell, but whatever the cause, he was suddenly tired, so he stripped and climbed into bed. At the last minute, he pulled over his laptop and went searching for the film that Max had mentioned.
Might as well see why Max kissing him was a bad thing, besides the obvious of course. And try to understand why Max was breaking that form right now by wanting more.
Chapter 8
Max stayed downstairs for exactly forty minutes; enough time to make sure Lucien would be asleep. Max knew he’d overstepped the boundaries tonight. Although nothing in the BI Handbook—if there was one—would say that attraction should be shelved. How could it? You put a gay bodyguard with a gay charge and you’re going to get some fireworks if the two men liked each other that way.
Especially if the bodyguard thought his charge was sexy, hot, serious, conflicted, needy, strong, and way too many other things that Max couldn’t even categorize.
Surely attraction didn’t make a bodyguard lax in his role. Shouldn’t it do completely the opposite? A kiss wasn’t likely to put Lucien in danger, but too much focus from Max on said kiss might leave Lucien exposed.
After he checked that everything was locked, he made his way upstairs, passing Lucien’s room with its sliver of light under the door. Clearly the prince was still awake. For a second Max considered stopping and knocking on the door, but he walked past to his own room. Once inside he checked his email. New files had been sent over from Ross, case studies on the other team and photos from Ruby, who had taken them at the meet. Max had seen her in one of the middle rows alongside parents and other students, though she’d blended in like a typical observer. She’d taken over two hundred photos and each one had been loaded into a folder open to Max.
He copied them all to a new folder, then one by one he clicked through them, dragging and dropping them into various subfolders according to subject matter, swimmers in one, team photos in there as well, parents another, students filed away, and that left just looking through each one just to see if anything was out of place.
He got halfway through before he realized it was half two and really he needed sleep. There was no point checking these photos out when his eyes were scratchy. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, mental images of the meet and the swim and Lucien looking so damn cute and happy keeping him awake, but finally he found his peaceful place. He was just nodding off when his door slammed open, then shut again.
He bolted upright, his feet on the floor in an instant, fight coursing through him, relaxing only when he realized it was Lucien inside his room.
“What’s wrong?” Max asked immediately.
“I watched the film. Well, not all of it, I fast forwarded a lot of it.”
Max blinked as he tried to make head or tails of that. Lucien standing there in his jersey shorts was enough of a distraction, let alone the buzzing in his head from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Lucien looked a little uncertain, then that was pushed aside and he stepped forward.
“I like you,” he said.
Max had nowhere to go, the bed behind his knees, and for every step Lucien took nearer, Max wished he had somewhere to move.
“I like you too,” Max admitted.
“I like you in a sexual need kind of way.”
Max tried not to smile. That statement was so Lucien with all its brutal honesty couched in appropriate use of words.
“So you just want me for my body?” Max teased. He liked teasing Lucien and cursed that the moonlight wasn’t enough for him to see the flush of embarrassment on Lucien’s cheeks that he knew had to be there.
“It seems expedient,” Lucien said. “You’re here and I like you, and I’m here and you didn’t seem to have any issues with the kiss earlier, so I was considering whether we should…” Words appeared to fail him. “You know.”
“Have sex? Make love?”
“Both. Either. I don’t know. Just, with no expectations or recriminations from either party.”
Lucien took another step closer, which given the size of the room meant he was now within reach, and Max’s eyes were fully accustomed to the moonlit room. Max could see Lucien’s hairless chest, shaved for swimming, the flat cinnamon discs of his nipples, the treasure trail that darkened his skin down into those intriguing boxer briefs. Then the breadth of his swimmer’s physique, broad shoulders, strong neck, and not an ounce of spare fat. A gay man’s wet dream, Max decided. Well, this gay man anyway.
“No expectations?” he asked.
Lucien deflated a little. “I get I am saying this all wrong. I’m not this great expert in the ways of—”
Max cut off any further explanation by gripping Lucien’s biceps and tugging him close. Lucien stumbled and let out a small moan at the same time, and just as quick as that, a switch flipped that Max couldn’t turn off if he tried. He wanted Lucien under him, around him, he just wanted him. Fuck the consequences, but he had to have the innocence that was Lucien and let Lucien take whatever he want
ed in return.
The first kiss was brutal, a clash of teeth and tongues, Max pulling Lucien closer until there were no room between them, his hands tight like a vice on Lucien’s arms and Lucien’s hands on Max’s waist gripping just as firmly. They were both hard and the noises Lucien was making in his throat showed he was as turned-on as Max.
With a practiced move, Max turned them and shoved Lucien back on the bed so fiercely that Lucien bounced before finally sprawling against Max’s quilt. He didn’t say anything, just held up a hand that Max took. Max straddled Lucien and pressed both of Lucien’s hands into the pillow behind him. Lucien arched up into the touch and whimpered. There was no fear in the other man, just need.
“I want you so much,” Max admitted. All the pent-up need and emotion spilled out in those few words.
“Show me?” Lucien said a little desperately.
God, how much Max wished they had something here—condoms, lube, anything. He wanted to be buried deep inside Lucien, and he’d do anything to get there. What if they only had one night? What if they only had a few hours?
“We can’t… I… We can just…” Then there was no point in explaining. Lucien tilted his groin up and his hard cock pressed against Max’s balls, and abruptly there was no thinking time at all. He’d have to be a stronger man to ignore Lucien’s plea and the sexy man laid out under him. Sending a quick apology up to Kyle and BI, he lowered his body until he was pressing Lucien into the mattress. He waited to see if Lucien would complain or shift at the weight, but if anything he loved it, tilting his head and offering the long length of his neck. Max gripped Lucien’s hands tighter and kissed a trail of heat from throat to lips, finally doing what he had wanted to do since they’d left the party.
The kiss was intoxicating, and with the noises Lucien made—the small pleas, the thank-yous, the sighs—Max was going mad. Lucien wriggled as they kissed, and Max got with the act, pushing back against the moves until the two of them were in sync, the hottest of kisses and the exquisite pleasure pain of two hard cocks rubbing against each other. Every so often he would go a little lower with his ass, drag his cock up from balls to tip, and every single time Lucien melted a little farther into the quilt. The kisses deepened; Max wanted to taste every inch of Lucien’s body, but he couldn’t pull himself away from Lucien’s gorgeous mouth, and Lucien still hadn’t moved free of Max’s hold.
“Max…” Lucien muttered over and over between kisses. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back, the kisses nothing more than sighs between them, and he was coming, his face contorting in passion and a curse slipping from those beautiful lips.
For Max it was game over, seeing Lucien come, hearing the praise for what Max had done triggered his own orgasm, so hard he couldn’t breathe, the physical tug too much for him to stay quiet. He shouted his release, but he kissed Lucien through the explosion, and finally spent, he lay just to one side of Lucien and released his hands.
What happened next was vital. Max had crossed a bridge with this, let himself get carried away by dark brown eyes and a fucking gorgeous body, not to mention the noises Lucien made as they’d ground against each other. Was Lucien going to run back to his room mortified at what he’d done?
Lucien wriggled a little, then quickly curled up and pulled off his briefs, wiping himself clean, then tossing them off the end of the bed. He turned on his side and yawned. “Big spoon or little?” he asked sleepily.
So it was going to be that simple. No freak-out, just rolling over and going to sleep. Max wasn’t going to make this wrong, and he copied Lucien, wiping himself off and lying back down.
“Big spoon,” Max said. Lucien moved onto his other side and Max was faced with an expanse of skin.
“Why am I not surprised, Mr. Big Bad Bodyguard?” Lucien murmured.
Max slotted himself behind Lucien and tensed when Lucien wriggled back into him. This bed wasn’t the biggest but somehow they seemed to fit. For a moment Max considered what to do with his hands, then realized he could curl one up under his head and have the other draped over Lucien.
And just like that, they slept.
When Max woke, the alarm clock said it was 11:00 a.m. and his cell showed two missed calls, both from Ross, and a voice mail. He listened to the mail as best he could with one hand stuck under Lucien. A simple message asking him to check his email with no sense of urgency had him relaxing back against the mattress. Lucien snuffled in his sleep, the taller man scrunched into a fetal position but still pressed back into Max. Max wriggled a little and managed to extricate the arm that had gotten trapped under Lucien overnight. He was halfway waiting for Lucien to wake up and regret everything.
Doesn’t matter.
Max was good at his job, and if he had to, he could chalk up last night to experience. Lucien hadn’t drunk a beer, but he’d been happy and sparkly and life had felt good.
Max used the bathroom and walked back into his room, stretching. The sun streaming through the window fell on Lucien and highlighted every visible peak and valley, every muscle covered in taut skin, the curve of his ass, the V pointing down to everything covered by the quilt. He was still asleep and, having rolled onto his back, was now taking up way more than his half of the bed. He was beautiful. Max knelt on the bed, the movement tugging at the quilt and revealing a little more of that treasure trail leading south.
Unbidden memories of last night flooded Max, of Lucien’s need, his complete submission, and Max’s morning hardness became something more. Carefully he pulled at the quilt, and for the first time got an up-close-and-personal look at Lucien’s cock, half-hard and lying flat against his dark curls.
Max leaned over and pressed a kiss to the juncture of thigh and groin, then another a little lower, concentrating on the muscled thighs, then traveling up to kiss the base of Lucien’s cock, nuzzling his balls, inhaling his scent and loving it. Lucien shifted a little and moaned, and Max moved so he was straddling Lucien’s knees and he could concentrate on the job at hand. He looked up and Lucien was staring right at him with heavy-lidded eyes.
“Don’t stop,” he said. His tone was sleep-rough and pleading.
So much for backing off today, but hell, what kind of man ignored a cock this pretty or words so damn needy? He could take Lucien so high.
He closed his lips around the head of Lucien’s cock, tasting the pearl of precome, laving the tip, sucking him down, then setting a rhythm to send Lucien over the edge. He didn’t use hands, just his mouth, and when he glanced up, Lucien had his head arched back, one of his fingers touching a nipple. God, there was something so free and uninhibited about Lucien like this. He might not have experience, but he was feeling every minute and wasn’t afraid to show it.
Finally, when it was clear Lucien was close, Max pulled off and loomed over him, using his hand to push Lucien over the edge while staring into his brown eyes.
“Fuck…” Lucien came over his hand and Max kissed him, lowering himself to lie on top of Lucien. He slipped and slid against the come with the head of his own cock and couldn’t hold back from losing it hard and heavy between them.
Lucien sighed noisily. “And I say again, fuck. What a way to get woken up.”
Max rolled onto his back, almost falling off the side of the bed before Lucien grabbed his arm and stopped him. Lucien laughed, a nice sound.
“You okay this morning?” Max had to ask.
“No regrets,” Lucien said. “Best night—and morning—ever. You?”
Max shook his head. Bodyguard or not, worries about crossing lines aside, he’d loved every second of being with Lucien, and he just wanted to do it again.
“Absolutely no regrets. None at all.”
Chapter 9
The days continue to pass in a routine of sorts, and this morning was no different than normal, apart from the fact that it was a Saturday and on Saturdays Lucien laid in bed an extra hour so they didn’t leave the house until half seven.
There was nothing in the photos from the meet that jumped
out at Max. Lucien had even looked. Nothing. And there had been no note through the door congratulating Lucien on his placings or that Cardiff won or, in fact, any comment at all in the week since the meet.
Jamie wasn’t home, again, and Max still hadn’t met Emily, who was taking staying with her boyfriend very seriously, so the house they left was empty and secure. They took the long way to swimming so they could walk Cardiff’s waking streets. Every morning they would get up early and exchange blow jobs or some of the hottest rubbing and grinding that Max had ever experienced. They hadn’t gone the whole way, but Max was just enjoying dialing into Lucien’s kink of being held down, and the nights flowed into mornings with ease.
They let themselves into the changing room and saw a couple of bags hanging on pegs. One had been there for a week and was clearly abandoned, but the other Max recognized as Kev’s scarlet and black backpack.
“I don’t get how you notice these things,” Lucien said when Max commented that Kev was already here.
“I’m just observant is all,” Max offered. He didn’t say that it was the small details that could save lives. No sense in freaking Lucien out. They passed the single lifeguard sat on a bench seat on his phone and exchanged casual waves.
He covered the cell phone with his hand. “Be through in two.”
“No worries,” Max answered. Lucien didn’t even seem aware they’d been spoken to.
They passed through the showers and got ready to swim. Max even managed to snag a quick kiss, but Lucien pushed him away with a rueful grin and a glance down at his groin. “Enough with giving me a hard-on before we swim,” he said. He left the shower first with Max following him closely, and Max couldn’t help but focus on Lucien’s tight ass and muscled thighs. Which is why he noticed when suddenly the muscles tensed and Lucien was running from him, diving cleanly into the pool from the side and heading straight for…
A body. Someone floating face-down in the water. Max dived in behind Lucien and came up next to him, helping him tug the body to the side. They rolled the man on his back and saw it was Kev.