by Raine, H. J.
“Mom, I quit the big finance thing so I can’t face Dad, but Luke asked, so I’ve come to this function to be withhim.”
“Lucian always was good at knowing what was best for you,” Ginger said. “He’s almost as skilled as me.”
Something dark flashed across Shea’s expression, and Lucian stepped closer to the pair, fingertips brushing Shea’s back, and, to his delight, he felt a shakingShea leaninto the touch.
“Not so sure about that,” Lucian said. “After all, I obviously didn’t give him enough time to find a decent tux.”
“Yes, what is this Hulk impression you’re doing, dear?” Ginger asked, but sighed and continued before either man had the chance to retort. “I’ve read allabout this competitive gay sub-culture of yours. Aman has to pay more attention to appearances than any woman I know.”
“I’ma construction worker, Mom. Muscles kind of help with that.” Shea glanced askance at Lucian. “My whole wardrobe consists entirelyofjeans and t-shirts.”
“Even those can be fitted,” Lucian commented. “Though you do manage to make off-the-rack look desirable.”
White teeth flashed, and a smile relaxed taut muscle and touched the edge of Shea’s eyes. “Thank you.” He looked down at the too-long cuffs, the pants that needed a belt to stay up, and the dress shirt that someone could have mistaken for a tent. “Sorry. Best I could do on a day’s notice. The corner tailor just laughed in disbeliefwhen he saw my old tux next to me, and the rentalplace could onlyhemthe pants.”
“It’s good to see you here,” Lucian said, and Ginger’s knowing grin and quick glances between the two ofthemwere not wasted onLucian.
“Well. I should go find your father. Tell him not to interrupt you two. I expect results soon, Luke,” Ginger said, pointinga pink nailat Lucian.
“I’ll do my best to get him to agree to the terms,” Lucianreplied seriouslyand thenadded, “Mom.”
Ginger beamed, hugged them both with more motherly advice that Lucian didn’t note and that made Shea grumble, and dashed away in a crinkle of bad fabric.
“Terms?” Shea eyed Lucian with a suspicion spoiled bya glint ofhumor inone gold eye.
“Just the usual marriage, house, kids, et cetera,” Lucian said dismissively, when Shea’s eyes widened. “Nothingto worryabout.”
“Mom...”Shea said ruefully.
“Cares verymuch,”Lucianput in.
“Well, still. Sorry about that, and don’t think for an instant I didn’t see you change topics to save her. Thank youfor steppinginso adroitly.”
Lucian arched an eyebrow at Shea and started walking toward the dining tables, one hand still on Shea’s lower back. The suit fabric was rough but the body he could feel beneath three layers was warm and solid. “A compliment without the usual expletive?” Lucian hummed. “Pity. Was hoping for ‘fucking’ adroitly, at least.”
“You were quite adroit at fucking, from what I remember,” Shea said, rougher, a flush creeping pink and prettyover his cheeks, his curls tumblingforward to hide his eyes.
“So you were listening all those years to my tales fromthe bedroom,”Lucianmused.
Shea blushed deeper and coughed. “Uhm. Ah. So, Prince Lucian, what political trophies are you intending to bagtonight?”
“Merely being seen supports my interests in the tender, younger generations,” Lucian answered, letting Shea have the way with the conversation. “The governor’s here, should probably shake his hand and laugh when he tells me I remind him of Father. Accountant references, a few pledges to support the non-profit projects, and I should be donating enough to earnanother plaque.”Lucianshrugged. “Slow night, but seeing as the point was really to spend it with you,” Lucian paused to smile up at Shea, five inches his better inheight. “Not sucha terrible thing.”
“I like going slow these days,” Shea said and bit his lower lip, and Luciantried not to stare.
“Then shall we slowly make our way to uncomfortable chairs and plastic chicken dinners?” Lucian asked, squeezing Shea’s arm, loathe to stop touching the man. The dam on Lucian’s control was cracking this close to Shea’s smell, feel, very self. A thrill coursed through him. Shea was here, coping with family and discomfort for him. For a moment, he wanted to taste Shea’s lips so badly there was nothing else inthe world.
“Lead on, then,”Shea allowed.
“Gladly.” Lucian replied smoothly and navigated to their designated table without throwingShea against any sturdysurfaces.
Chances to talk dwindled to none as Lucian played the consummate politician and the speeches and presentations began. Lucian had no idea what food was served, but he memorized the way Shea managed a fork all over again, watched the way Shea’s mouth and throat moved inthe chew and swallow.
Lucian noticed when Shea grew restless with the games of wealth, toying with his plate and shifting in his chair. Lucian wanted to squeeze Shea’s thigh or offer some other gesture of comfort, but Lucian didn’t dare. It felt like pushing, graduating from arm to leg in the space of a mere hour and in front of witnesses. Shea’s talk of slow, his worried tone about taking things one step at a time, the way he wouldn’t quite meet Lucian’s gaze, theyalladded up to the need for care.
For anyone else, maybe that would be a tedious challenge, but somewhere between entree and dessert, Lucian realized with renewed clarity that he would do just about anythingto convince Shea that he meant what he said. Luciancared. He didn’t like the word “love”so much, wasn’t sure he understood it, really, but-
Shea inexplicably excused himself with a mumble in a lull between catty presenters, stalking away from the table and out of the hall with a purposeful stride. Lucian sat for a moment like a miniature glacier until he shook off the worry that Shea would merely leave, and he got up.
“Pardon me,” Lucian said to others, nodding and smiling with his best insincere turn of lip. He chased after Shea and panicked when he didn’t see the man in the reception room beyond the ballroom. Dark hallways, security, windows with no views, and Lucian took a deep breath to make himself think. He recalled countless dinner gatherings and Shea at eleven, fifteen, twenty getting up from the riotous table for a break. And Shea always went-
“Outside,” Lucian said to himself. He pivoted on a heel and marched to the nearest exit, which led onto a terrace adjacent to the gardens. The moon was full, the night air was cold but not bitter, and the wind was faint. Snow was piled on either side of the narrow concrete path that Lucian followed past dead twigs of trees and barren bushes. He came to a halt when he heard a faint chink to his right, and he saw fresh boot prints in the icy crust. Lucian smiled at the shape of the size twelve. Only Shea would wear motorcycle riding boots with a tux.
Lucian shoved aside prickly hedge branches and walked into a small clearing. A large oak stood on the far side, and the topiary blocked the breeze on three sides and opened onto a view of the golf course. A stone bench stood between the tree and Lucian, and Shea sat hunched forward on it, the amber light of a cigarette glowingbetweenbare fingers.
Approaching carefully so he didn’t slip on the slick pavers, Lucian counted the handful of stars above the halogen glow of the lights over the fifteenth hole. He blew fog in a long sigh and sat next to Shea, who said nothing. Lucian shivered, the chill of the bench seeping through to numb ass and legs. He inched closer to Shea, who glanced at Lucian with the same unfamiliar, unreadable mask Lucian’d seenShea donat Leaf.
“Thought you quit,” Lucian whispered, not wanting to disturb the peace with real volume. He plucked the cig from Shea’s grasp and sucked a sweet, deep drag ofnicotine nirvana.
“Never knew you’d started,” Shea said, bemusement replacingthe emptyexpression.
Smoke swirled, and Lucian crossed his legs toward Shea. Their shoulders brushed, and Lucian thrilled at how this casual touch out of a million others was different. “One does all sorts of things in the name of self-management.”
“Yup.” Shea stole the cigarette back, thick fingers brushing Lucian’
s slender ones, and the coal glowed bright before he slumped, running one hand through his hair. “All kindsa things. Rubbin’ worry stones, chewin’ onpencilstubs, rerollin’fagends, drinkin’tequila bythe case, heck... studyin’ applied mathematics and game theory, somethin’ big enough to make my brain beg for mercy.”
Lucian nodded in the seconds it took to follow all the examples and find Shea’s train of thought. There were usually several running on tracks that didn’t necessarily converge. “Find anything that worked to keep youinline?”he asked.
“Buryin’ the thought six feet deep and runnin’ over the grave site with a John Deere 6D, but you... it’s... oh Lord.” Shea took another drag and ground the stub out under his heel. “You were nice to me in there. It’s fuckin’ frightenin’.”
“I hope it’s not such a change,” Lucian muttered, still deciphering Shea Speak. He didn’t dare hope that Shea’s nebulous references to needing distraction from something impossible that Shea wanted had anything to do with him. Lucian’s ego liked the idea, but his better sense and experience scoffed. After all, what in the world could Lucian provide that no one else could for Shea?
And he denied the calm voice in the back of his mind that pointed out that if Shea was Lucian’s reason for living, the reverse wasn’t entirely impossible. It also said something about the fact that if Lucian had kept his feelings to himself for years, the only other person alive who might be as skilled at doing that would be Shea. Lucianwished Shea hadn’t stubbed out the cigarette.
“You whispering to me is a helluva change,” Shea drawled. “Especially when we used to shout insults across the Debate Team floor, or get by Mr. Miller’s club restrictions with a low mutter of name calling while playing speed chess, or, I still remember the time we were in that fuckin’ City-wide Spelling Bee.” Lucian chuckled, and Shea joined in. “The looks during the finalround when we had to screw up twice to be called out. We went eight rounds with all the other kids’ parents wantin’ to kill us both, and, God, how they screamed when you decided you weren’t going for State after you won. I’ll remember how to spell ‘promiscuous’ and ‘sacrilegious’ to the end of my days.”
Lucian laughed outright. “As will I.” His hand moved in slow motion, stroked the rough nap of Shea’s jacket sleeve. “As will I,” he repeated, so quietly that there was barelya tendrilofbreathas evidence.
Shea shivered. “You like this...” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve seen you pull this act with so many others, shining every lumen of your attention on themso that they catch fire for you and only you. It’s like watching a cold winter star gleaming bright, and everyone gatheringto the miracle.”
Luciandidn’t answer, unsure ofwhat to sayor what any of this meant or if the meaning mattered as much as the saying. Shea didn’t sound beleaguered like he often did when recounting their childhood rivalries, and he didn’t sound accusatory like he usually did when talking about Lucian’s conquests. Irritated, exasperated, maybe a hint of jealous -- those were all normal emotions inthe course ofthis kind ofconversation.
Instead, Shea sounded small, confused, maybe lost. Like a man who woke up froma dreamin a stranger’s bed and was both terrified and thrilled to be there. Lucian wanted the good and none of the bad, and with his heart thudding in his chest, he shifted until he was pressed against Shea, thigh to shoulder. “Keep speaking like this, and I’m going to start thinking the idea of you and me isn’t new to you, either, sweet Shea.”
“And if you keep saying that damned nickname without the condescension, I’ll...”Shea swallowed.
“Let me touch you more than I am, perhaps?” Lucian asked in his lowest, silkiest voice. His cock stirred, and desire drowned most of his higher brain functions. Lucian leaned until he could smell Shea’s aftershave. “I can be slow for you.” Lucian paused. “I could be many things for you that I’m normally not.” The click of Shea’s throat was audible. “So maybe you’lllet me start withyour hair?”
“M-myhair?”Shea stammered.
Lucian recognized the effort for equilibrium and enjoyed that Shea had to try and find it. “Yes. I’d love to know what it feels like.”
“Oh. I keep forgetting to cut it, and the boys give me shit about that, but...” Shea tilted toward Lucian. “Sure? Go ahead.”
“Thank you,” Lucian said and stood so fast that Shea started to tip and righted himself.
“Wha--”
Lucian nudged Shea’s knees wider and stepped between them, his waist level with Shea’s head. When Shea started to draw away, Lucian chose that moment to slide all ten fingers from Shea’s cheeks to temples and into thick curls. Shea gasped, broad chest arching and eyes widening.
“Soft,”Lucianwhispered, parts ofhis bodygrowing harder at the simple pleasure. He inched closer, added the tiniest amount of pressure to his grip, and heard the ghost of a moan from Shea. Lucian stifled an eager noise, repeating the squeeze before letting go to stroke the strands.
Shea stiffened, and Lucian almost withdrew, but Shea’s body unclenched and then gave with a gusting sigh, and Shea’s neck bent. Lucian guided, and Shea rested his forehead against Lucian’s stomach and gently clasped Lucian’s legs.
“Mm, like that,” Lucian praised and confirmed, and a shudder rippled through Shea. Lucian wondered at the reaction, the back of his mind saving it for later study. He petted Shea’s nape, kneaded stiffmuscle and was shocked to discover Shea’s skin still heated despite the winter around them. “So warm, sweet Shea.”
The helpless note that came fromShea’s throat was unmistakable, and it tightened Lucian’s focus. “Ah... God, Luke,” Shea whispered, shivered, and strong hands gripped harder alongthe sides ofLucian’s thighs.
All Lucian wanted to do was sink into Shea, kiss and hold and get the man off. But the part of him that worshipped at the altar of control, that loved men on their knees with lash marks marring their skin, and that ran the best BDSM club in the region, snapped to attentionand started to link notes.
Shea wanted himbadly. Luciancarried no delusions of poor self esteem to cloud his judgement on that point. However, Shea sounded like a man drowning, and that worried Lucian. If they were in a private room in Club Break, and Shea was wearing rope instead of rented cotton, then maybe the voices screaming at Lucian to protect and provide would make more sense. Hell, if Shea had ever shown a second’s interest in Scene at all...
Then again, maybe that didn’t matter. The ferocity ofthe need for touchcould certainlymatchother darker needs that Lucian liked to feed. Raised in a household where an embrace was rarer than blue diamonds, Lucian knew that from personal experience. According to Clark, Shea dated, but not often, and Shea topped every time. Precisely how Clark knew that was something Lucian just didn’t ask, but he trusted the information.
So maybe Shea was holding back. Perhaps it’d been a while. Couple that with what appeared to be a long-term affection for his best friend that matched Lucian’s, not to mention the stress of the evening and seeing his family, and Shea’s state started to align in Lucian’s logic.
“It’s all right, Shea.” Lucian reassured simply and let his hands roamover shoulders, neck, and the side of Shea’s face. Shea turned to lay a kiss on Lucian’s palm with a breath that trembled, and Lucian cupped Shea’s chin. “May I have one of those to taste?” he asked, bending and cradling Shea’s head. His hair fell with a swish and threw Shea’s cheeks into stark light and dark.
Shea parted his lips, his eyes black with pupils blown. “Yes. Please.”
A lifetime of together in ways Lucian had known with none other, but when he touched his mouth to Shea’s, it was their very first kiss. Shea’s skin was smooth beneath Lucian’s, Shea’s hands flexed on his body, and Lucian tried like hell to elongate the seconds and savor them. He pressed and lightly licked Shea’s upper lip, then lower, and deepened the pressure to suck and memorize Shea’s flavor: smoke, champagne, perfection.
Shea followed Lucian’s lead and returned favors in kind. When Lucian broke
the kiss, he had a quick argument over the pros and cons ofmaking out in a pile of icy snow. Comfort and fear of frostbite tipped the scales, but it was a close call. “Want more of this,” Lucian said with effort. “But we should probably...” Lucian kissed Shea again, temporarily forgetting what should or shouldn’t happen.
Against Lucian’s lips, Shea murmured, “Your fingers are so cold.”
“Should get us inside,” Lucian clarified. He let out a frustrated sigh and glanced toward the front of the hotel while raking through Shea’s hair again. “Inconvenient. I’d book us a room here, but the beds are terrible. Your place, perhaps? I’ve not seenit, after all.”
“My place?” Shea’s eyes hooded, which gave Lucian pause, but he nodded. “Sure. You want to follow me there? I’ve gotta DucatiMultistrada, now.”
“I know,” Lucian said, adjusting himself and giving Shea room. He felt immediately bereft. “Both the way and the beautiful machine. Never thought you’d part withthe Indian.”He held a hand out to Shea.
Taking it, Shea wrapped his scarred paw around Lucian’s. “I never thought I would either,” Shea said in that voice that sounded so lost. Another chip fell onto the pile of data awaiting Lucian’s consideration, but Shea shrugged offwhatever was bothering him. Aseam ripped, and Shea swore.
“Simplynot worthyofyou,”Luciancommented and got another smile. “And I’ll be right behind you. Came here in a limo, but arranged for the Rover to get dropped off with the valet. Didn’t know quite when I was leaving, and you know how I hate waiting for cars.”
“The Rover will be perfect for my new driveway. The gravelhasn’t bedded as solidlyas I wanted.”
Lucian refrained from making a Clark-worthy pun about solid bedding, choosing instead to start the journey back to the hotel. He held a branch back for Shea. “ThenI willfollow your lead.”
Chapter 3
The forest canopy loomed overhead, blocking the moon and sky. Snow piles marked the edges of the driveway and shards of ice dangled fromthe needles of tall pines and bony deciduous. Lucian shut off the Rover’s engine and watched Shea steer the bike into a shed near the two-story cabin. He waited until the Ducati’s tail lights winked out, and then Lucian climbed out of his truck. Gravel crunched beneath the thin soles of his dress shoes, and he admired Shea’s handmade home. Wide wooden planks were fitted snug against one another. The small covered porch was inviting, the railing bits of knotty branches. There were lots of shaded windows, and smoke drifted lazily from a chimney. Lucian suspected it was froma wood-burning stove.