by Gina Kincade
When I reached the elevator, I took out my frustration by stabbing the button with a sharp finger. The doors finally whispered open, but just as I went to step inside, an attractive blonde woman exited, running straight into me.
“Oh, shit man. Sorry.” Her voice was deep and calm, and her hands were firm as she gripped my shoulders. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I just need to...wait. Clare? I didn’t know you worked here.”
“Oh, I don’t, believe me.” She glanced up the hallways for a moment before returning her attention to me. “And you are?”
I held out my hand and she took it readily. “Nathaniel Ritson. We met a while back. Maybe five years ago.” He flicked his head in a backward nod toward the room where he’d left Zac in the lurch. “I went to school with your brother. Now I’m working for him.”
Clare looked me up and down, a tiny smirk on her lips. “I bet you are. Hell, you’d work for me, too.”
My cheeks heated at the compliment. Once again a member of the Scanlon clan had me at a loss. When I’d asked about Clare earlier, Zac’s reaction had been curt and dismissive, like she was a problem nobody talked about. Given all the rumors and innuendo I’d heard about her, it seemed pretty true.
“So,” she continued. “Is my little brother here? He’s supposed to be giving me a lift home.”
“Uh, yeah. He’s back—”
“Hey, Clare. You’re early. Father didn’t see you, right?”
I turned to see Zac walking toward us. His face wasn’t as red as before, but he still looked sad.
“Sorry, Zaccy. And no, he didn’t. I’m not trying to make trouble here.”
“Ha. For once.”
Clare patted her brother’s cheek. “You’re such a little bitch. Probably why I love you so much, bro.”
I knuckled at the button on the elevator again, and the doors glided back apart. With a cough, I stepped inside. “Okay, uh, I’ll head on home. See you tomorrow, Zac.”
“Nate. Ah, sorry. Nathaniel.”
There was a cool edge to Zac’s words, but that was muted by the thickness in his voice. Just as the doors closed, I chanced a look at my friend’s face, and the sadness of his expression was nearly enough to melt the last iota of resistance. It was all I could do to stand still, when I truly wanted to push the doors open and dive back out, straight into Zac’s arms and then, as soon as possible, his bed.
The doors sighed closed and I sighed in harmony, slackening back against the wall of the elevator. It was for the best, it truly was, that I’d walked away. Scanlon Senior would have eyes and ears everywhere, and I’d risked everything already. On my first day.
It wasn’t the same risk for Zac. He could be disowned immediately, and still live a life of leisure, with the trust fund he inherited at twenty-one. I’d be headed back to the slums to either sweep the streets, or live on them.
At the ground floor I re-adjusted my tie, only then realizing what a damn mess it was in. Sex will do that. Shit. No way Clare would have missed that little detail, which meant there could be one more weak link in the chain of my own guilt. Was she the kind who’d sink her sibling in order to further her own stock?
The doors opened and I stepped from the elevator, almost running straight into Miriam. To my surprise she had a tentative smile on her face, which evaporated the moment she saw it was me standing there.
“Oh. What the heck?”
“Jesus, lady. What now?”
“Watch your tone, sunshine.” She stared hard into my eyes for a moment. “It’s late. We don’t pay overtime.”
What, worried my nose will get browner than yours? I still felt vulnerable, and a little ashamed, but at least I managed to keep the words inside my head. “I know.”
I watched her eyes flit around me, from my hair to my mouth, from my tie, to my shoes. Only then did I realize I hadn’t checked myself over properly, and had to hope I was at least zipped up. Miriam slowly shook her head. “Are you some kind of fool, Ritson?”
“Maybe some kind.”
She signaled over to the lobby area, summoning one of the building’s security guards. She kept her eyes on me as she spoke to the ursine man. “Escort young Mister Ritson out please.”
“Yes, Ms. Spall.”
Chapter Five
Outside the building, the night air had grown fangs of ice. I hunkered into my suit jacket, pulling it tight around me as I mentally kicked myself for the hundredth time. I could have been a whole lot hotter right at that moment, if only I’d taken up Zac’s offer. Instead I was out on the frigid streets, hoping I hadn’t missed the bus. That time of night there was a long wait between them.
The throbbing growl of a car engine pushed its way into my senses, just before the car itself pulled up beside him.
“Hey, handsome. Need a ride?”
I turned to see Clare in the shotgun seat of a midnight blue Jaguar F-Type. There were no prizes for guessing who was in the driver’s seat.
“I, uh...well...”
“Slow down there, Shakespeare. It’s a simple yes or yes answer. Get in.”
Clare stepped out of the two-door sports car and pushed the seat forward. With a little shrug that was more for myself than anyone else, I went to squeeze into the back seat, but Clare blocked me.
“You can ride up front, handsome. Your legs are longer than mine.” She slid in back and sighed. “Besides, this way it looks like I’m royalty. Drive on, boy!”
I had barely closed the door when Zac stomped on the gas, taking off with a long squeal of rubber on road. We’d run an amber light before I could even get my seat belt on. “What the hell, Zac? You trying to kill us?”
Clare, in contrast to my own trembling voice, simply whooped in exultation. “Come on, bro, don’t listen to him. Gun it!”
Moments like these always seemed to me as if they rammed home the divide between rich and poor. Growing up with nothing made a man cautious beyond belief. And it seemed the opposite was true for those who grew up loaded.
Zac still hadn’t spoken, and if anything, that made the tension inside me spike out even harder. Maybe the guy was just concentrating on the road. But maybe he was steaming about being rejected.
“Zac, I—”
“Forget it. You were right.”
“Come on. Don’t just shut me out.”
“I’m not. I’m driving.”
Clare leaned forward between the front seats. “A little workplace disharmony, huh? Whatever would the boss think?”
“Go piss up a drainpipe, sis.”
“You’ll have to wait for my next home movie.”
Zac made a show of turning away, looking up the side streets as we flew past them.
“Aw, did it all get too confronting, bro?”
Zac made a point of turning up the music, while I tried to sink myself into the plush leather seat, and out of the way of the little sibling spat.
Finally, Clare relented. “Okay, bro. Let me out here, please?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not. I have a fuck-buddy who lives near here. And I really don’t want to be judged right now. Especially by someone who won’t come clean himself.”
“Sis, please.”
“I’m serious, Zaccy. I’m not mad. I know better than anyone what’s stopping you. But you need to let me out, now.”
She pulled out her phone and dialed, while I eased out of the car and pushed the seat forward.
“Hey, babe,” Clare said into her phone. “It’s Clare. Can I come crash at your place? I’m two streets away. We need to talk, anyway.” Whatever the answer was, she showed no sign of slowing down, or coming back.
I leaned down, unsure where things were for the moment. “Hey, I can, uh...catch a bus from here if you—”
“Don’t be a fuck-head, Nate. Get in.”
Truth be told, I hadn’t fancied finding public transport, so I was glad the offer still stood. “I just figured it was Clare’s idea to pick me up. I didn’t want to
assume anything.”
“It was her idea. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to do it, too.”
I manhandled my tie again, searching for anything to say. “So...you and your sister going to be okay?”
“Yeah. We just have that kind of relationship. In a day or two none of this will ever have happened. I just wish she’d stop bringing up her damn video. You know?”
I knew, all right. All the western world knew. The truth was, Clare Scanlon was very well known for all kinds of reasons, none of which were suitable for her father’s well-constructed image as a fine, upstanding Christian.
The home movie she’d mentioned was, of course, her stolen sex tape. That would have been bad enough for Lionel in and of itself. But even worse for him was the actual content of that video.
Firstly, the fact she took it in the butt so readily can’t have helped matters. Then there was the moment when the guy’s wife moved out from behind the camera and joined in with them. Perhaps worst of all for Lionel, though, were the rumors the tape hadn’t been stolen at all. That Clare had released it herself as some kind of fuck you to her father. That seemed especially likely with the way she’d signed off. Looking straight into the camera, blowing a kiss, and saying “See? Try as you might, you can’t tell me what to do.”
Back in school, Zac had spoken at length about the strain between his older sister and their father. He’d bring it up nearly every day. The pain it caused him, being dragged one way and the other to try and find peace, had clearly never subsided.
Without knowing what to say or do, I went back to my failsafe: adjusting my tie.
“Truth is...” Zac started, but seemed to think better of it.
“Please, buddy. You can trust me.”
He sighed, and I expected him to either clam up completely, or tear his sister a new one behind her back. When he spoke again, though, it turned out I couldn’t be more wrong.
“Truth is, I’m jealous as hell of her.”
“But...you’re the prodigal son. You’re the one who stands to—”
“No, I’m the goddamn pet. I don’t stand, I fucking sit, roll over and play dead. I’m scrambling around, trying to catch every tiny crumb father spits at me, while she’s simply moved on, way past it all. She lives life on her own terms.”
“Yeah, I guess. But...well, you’d be better able to judge it than I am, but is she happy?”
“She’s no less happy than I am, let’s put it that way.”
That sounded like the end of the conversation, so I fiddled with the window control instead of speaking. The thoughts I had, and the feelings that went with them, probably weren’t what Zac needed to hear. Mostly it was my internal debate about whether it was worse to have grown up with no father, like I had, or to have one who thrust money and duty into the hole where love should have been.
The interior of the car simply reeked of wealth. Plush leather seats, understated gadgetry and, while cruising at least, a near silent engine. The new car smell was still strong, and the ride was as smooth as a lubed ass. It was hard not to get lost in the moment, until Zac spoke again.
“So where should I drop you, Nate? Damn. Nathaniel, sorry.”
I stared for a moment at Zac’s profile, the intense concentration of city driving accentuating the line of his jaw and the fierce intelligence in his eyes. At that moment, I knew I was in big trouble. Common sense and self-preservation could go fuck themselves.
We couldn’t go to my place. It was too damn small and would give us no privacy. I pulled out mom’s cell phone again and quickly called her. “Hey, mom. No, I’m fine. Just wanted to let you know not to wait up for me tonight. Okay, love you. Bye.”
When I glanced over at Zac his expression was one of hopeful confusion. I curled my hand around his thigh and squeezed. The blood racing to my cock made intelligent thought impossible, so I said the only thing I could. “Take me home with you.”
“Are...are you sure?”
“Uh-huh. We have unfinished business.”
Zac’s eyes drifted closed for a second and a heated moan escaped his mouth. “I’d call it unfinished pleasure, myself.”
It was only a short drive to Zac’s place, but I kept my hand in place the whole time, tucked right up where thigh met cock: an unspoken promise of the pleasure to come.
Zac pulled into the driveway of his building and keyed in his code. “Come on, come on.” He slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel as the gate slowly opened. When the gap was big enough, he punched the car through, almost taking off a side mirror. He swung hard into his space, the screech of his tires adding urgency to the already potent atmosphere.
We leapt from the Jaguar like it was on fire, and scrambled into the elevator. Without asking, I pressed the button for the top floor.
“How did you know?” Zac asked.
“It seemed the obvious choice. Lionel Scanlon wouldn’t allow his only son to live anywhere but the penthouse.”
“Ha. Yeah, got that right. Especially when he owns the building.”
For a moment, that little fact sent splinters of ice through my blood. I mentally kicked myself for not thinking about it in advance. Security cameras were everywhere these days. And the ones in this building would no doubt be heavily focused on Scanlon Junior, and his various visitors and activities.
Still, it was all I could do to keep my hands to myself on the ride up. It had been years since I’d first developed the fantasy of having Zac in an access-all-areas situation: mind, body and soul. It really shouldn’t hurt so hard that I had to wait one more fucking minute.
“Zac, when we get up there I’m gonna—”
Zac swiftly put his finger across his lips and looked up into the top corner of the elevator. A couple of seconds passed, and then he spoke, loudly and clearly.
“I’m surprised Miriam didn’t get you to sign those agreements when you started today. Lucky I have a whole damn wall of shelves filled with company paperwork.” There was a pantomime feeling to his voice and I realized he was making up some bullshit story to cover my being there with him. It sounded lame even to my ears, but whatever got me inside Zac’s apartment—and inside Zac—was fine by me.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Uh, thanks for taking the time out to...make things right.”
We both struggled to suppress laughter. Finally, after way too long, the elevator doors eased open and we stepped out. Zac made a pat-down gesture, which I figured was letting me know to keep quiet, and maintain the lie. Thankfully, the penthouse door was right across from us.
Zac keyed in his security code and let me through. The moment the door clicked closed again, I whirled around and we swooped on each other, mouths joining in a volcanic kiss that had been years in the making. Sure, we’d locked lips back at the office, but that was a stolen moment, and one we both knew could have been interrupted at any point. Finally, we were free to truly let loose on each other.
In my wild hunger, I forced Zac against the door, slamming him back hard enough to knock a hot breath out. As we tousled in mouth-to-mouth combat, Zac seized my cock through my pants and squeezed, sending wild sparks of pleasure bursting upward and outward.
I pulled my head back and moaned at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. Zac took advantage of the moment and sucked on the sensitive skin of my throat, sinking his teeth in before gliding up to whisper in my ear.
“Can you please get these fucking clothes off, Nate? Fuck, sorry. Nathaniel.”
“Nah, you can call me Nate. It sounds sexy in your mouth. Plus it reminds me of school...and all the things I wanted to do to you back then.”
Zac drilled his eyes into my skull, sending hot and cold fingers of need up and down my spine. “Better late than never.”
I couldn’t wait any longer, seizing his tie and pulling him in for a kiss so hard it hurt. He pumped breath after breath into me as I drove my free hand into his pants and latched onto his cock. The searing heat of his skin was sheer perfection.
&nb
sp; “Fuck it,” I hissed. “Your belt’s too tight.”
I wrenched my hand back out, pulling his shirt up with it. With one sharp tug I tore it open, his buttons flying like bullets. The light speckling of hair on his chest and belly called to me and I slammed my open mouth against him, lapping at his skin to taste everything I could reach.
There was no time to work his belt. I tore open his zipper and dragged his cock free, driving my mouth home around him. He yanked at my hair, pulling me side to side, getting me where he needed me.
But this was my show. I snared his wrists and pushed them to the wall, digging my teeth into the rubbery hardness of his perfect cock.
“Fuck, Nate...let me do you...”
The need in his voice sliced through me, and I released his hands long enough to open my own pants. Sliding his cock out of my mouth I stood, taking hold of his hair and pushing him to his knees.
His half-assed smile came back as he worked his hand up inside my shirt, pinching at my nipple just as he took my length to the back of his throat. I slid my other hand up and into his hair, holding on, ready for the ride to come.
Zac pulled me out of his mouth and smeared the wet face of his tongue all the way down and up, turning his head to the side, then the other side. Tasting every inch of my rigid cock before gliding down to draw one ball into his mouth.
As he pulled on my sac, I squeezed my hands into fists. He sucked in a sharp breath in reaction, then swabbed his tongue all the way up my shaft. At the top, he opened wide and drew the fat head in again, tickling beneath it with his tongue. I rolled a long, slow moan out. It was the only way I could find to express the ecstasy he’d conjured inside me.
Seemingly encouraged by my voice, Zac pushed down, gliding a whole lot more cock into his mouth. The heat against my sensitive skin was a whole extra layer of pleasure, and my knees were fit to buckle any moment. Every pump of Zac's mouth sapped their strength just that little more.
“God, Zac...”
With a wet and sexy slurping sound, Zac pulled off and stood up, planting his mouth on mine again. We moaned in some kind of strange harmony as we explored the depths of each other.