Aftermath

by Tricia Owens

  “Max,” Ethan groaned, so turned on he hurt. He felt red in the face. His entire body was burning up. “Hurry.”

  A flick, and he shouted as the vibrator buzzed into life. His entire body bowed tight as Max pressed the tip against his prostate.

  “Max! Shit!”

  The vibrator plunged in and out, each buzzing touch to his prostate ramping up his pleasure until he was nearly pained from it.

  “Come now,” Max commanded, authority thick in his voice. He pushed the vibrator in and held it down against Ethan’s gland. “Now.”

  Through the muffled buzzing sound, Ethan heard his own garbled cry. His body shuddered and bucked as the vibrator amplified the sensation against his swollen gland. His cock felt like a gun firing repeatedly, each shot ripping through his body, leaving him shaken.

  The intense buzzing finally stopped, granting him blessed relief. With a moan, he collapsed across Max’s lap, face buried in the sheets.

  He was only semi-coherent while Max gently withdrew the vibrator. Rustling and clicking noises preceded the cool, welcoming sensation of a wet wipe cleaning him up. He sighed in pleasure and smiled a bit dopily.

  “You were waiting for me to come home so you could do that to me,” he accused.

  Max chuckled softly and guided him to stretch out on the bed beside him. “I may have been looking forward to seeing you,” he admitted as he pulled Ethan against him.

  Ethan hummed contentedly and threw a leg across Max’s thighs. “Just because?”

  Max kissed him on the forehead. “Just because. And perhaps because I had a good day, and I wanted to express it with you.”

  Ethan opened his eyes and studied Max with interest. “What happened to make it good?”

  “Merely making positive progress on my business associations.”

  “Are you talking about Axel?”

  “I am.”

  Max felt fully relaxed beside Ethan, so he believed every word. “I’m glad, Max. I’m really, really glad.”

  “You seemed to be in an equally upbeat mood,” Max noted. He kissed Ethan’s shoulder. “Anything you care to share?”

  How does he know me so well? Ethan thought ruefully. He burrowed against Max’s chest. “There’s something, yes.”

  Max remained relaxed. Trusting. He dragged his fingers slowly up Ethan’s spine.

  “Merrick won over a client tonight. Well, it’s a verbal deal. With contingencies.” Ethan kissed the caramel-colored skin of Max’s chest. “The client is a men’s fashion line.”

  “His specialty, yes?”

  “I guess you could say that. But this is different. No underwear or swimming trunks. You’d appreciate their product, actually.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, they’re, um, high-end suits.”

  The fingers stroking up his back paused for a fraction of a second. Ethan sighed. Max was too intelligent by far. Ethan told himself he may as well come out with it and spare himself the agony.

  “Merrick pitched him a campaign centered around me. That's one of the contingencies. That I be the main model, at least to start.”

  “I see.”

  Tension was slowly creeping into Max’s body like ice gradually freezing the surface of a lake. Ethan could feel it and wished he could stop it.

  “The thing is,” he began haltingly, “the pitch is more than me in a suit. It’s me as a—as a bodyguard in a suit. It’s a power thing, I guess. Masculine power and elegance was what Merrick pushed. The, uh, buzzwords. The client loved the idea, so that’s another contingency. That I pose as a bodyguard.”

  “A media campaign drawing parallels to real life.” Max’s voice was cool, nothing like it had been mere seconds earlier. “Using your position as an agent in The Elite Poole to sell clothing.”

  “In a way, it would be creative advertising for the agency,” Ethan tried.

  Max released him and sat up. “No, it would be making a farce of the professionalism of this company."

  "Why would you think that?"

  Max studied him with thinly veiled incredulity. "Most of the agents are already cast as punch lines for being attractive. This ridiculous campaign would only exacerbate that. No, this would be worse. This would be tacitly encouraging the agency to be viewed as a joke."

  "But if Merrick does it right, he could make The Elite Poole Worldwide cool. And I know you hate that word," Ethan added quickly when Max's expression grew thunderous, "but this is business. This is publicity. The agency could become a household name, desired by the high-end clients of this fashion line."

  "Yes, a household name known for as an agency full of models, not security professionals.”

  "Maybe it would change the narrative," Ethan said hesitantly. "You know, so people talk about the campaign and not about...you know. You and me."

  "Thank you for reminding me," Max said coldly.

  Ethan quickly sat up, sensing he was sliding into quicksand. “Max, Merrick wouldn’t frame this badly. He knows how much The Elite Poole means to me.”

  “Tell him no,” Max ordered, staring hard at him.

  Ethan swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. But I can’t.”

  Chapter Seven

  Maxmillian couldn’t be shocked by Ethan’s refusal to obey. This was Ethan, after all, who took nearly as much pleasure in defying Max as in paying for that defiance in bed. True, when it came to their day to day lives they were mostly in sync thanks to Ethan’s willingness to yield. But that wasn’t a guarantee. Occasionally, a spark of resistance made its presence known and though it often excited Max to see a hint of fire in his husband, at times it was a problem because when Ethan chose to be stubborn, he could be stubborn.

  This appeared to be one of those times. Ethan refused to let down his friend and former lover. That attitude wasn’t something to inspire anger or jealousy. Max was grateful to have such a kind-hearted and selfless husband. But that didn’t mean Max couldn’t find fault with this plan. Generosity and loyalty weren’t enough to shield Ethan from making a bad mistake and standing by it. Perhaps it was arrogant to assume that Max alone appreciated the possible repercussions of Merrick Felix’s demands, but Max doubted Ethan fully realized them. Ethan wanted to trust because that was how he had been raised. That trust was something Max valued a great deal since it allowed them to explore power dynamics in the bedroom and strengthened their overall relationship. But it had its downsides. The trick would be in convincing Ethan of them without sounding as though Max doubted his judgment.

  Ethan’s mouth, which only minutes earlier had been slack with pleasure, was now a firm line of determination. His green eyes weren’t quite hard, but they were no longer glazed and dreamy from pleasure. He was clearly prepared for a fight.

  However, a fight wasn’t what Max wanted at all.

  “Join me for a shower,” he said abruptly and swung his legs out of bed. When Ethan didn’t move or react except to stare up at him, apparently perplexed, Max reached for his hand and tugged him. “Come. We’ll discuss this while we wash.”

  Once in their luxurious bathroom, he let go of Ethan’s hand to turn on the multiple shower heads to warm up the water. When the temperature felt right, he stepped inside the large enclosure and closed his eyes as the water cascaded down his throat and chest. Though he gave the appearance of being focused on his washing, he listened for Ethan’s tentative footsteps on the wet tile. He relaxed once he heard the change in tenor as the water hit Ethan’s body and pattered to the floor.

  “I apologize if I gave you the impression that I’m angry with your or disappointed with you,” Max said as he put his back to the horizontal shower heads. He opened his eyes to the vision of a mostly wet Ethan standing motionless and uncertain just at the edge of the waterfall spray head. Max curved a hand behind his hip and urged him closer. “We’re not fighting, Ethan, but we need to talk this over.”

  Ethan sighed, his eyes closing briefly. His hands found their way to Max’s wet chest. “I don’t want to fight either, M
ax. I apologize for blindsiding you with this.”

  “To be fair, I didn’t give you much time for conversation when you arrived home.”

  Ethan smiled slightly. “You’re forgiven for that.” His smile faded. “Bottom line, Max, I honestly don’t think this campaign is going to hurt us or The Elite Poole. This could be a way to turn what Axel did to us to our advantage.”

  Max caressed his flank. “More exposure seems counterintuitive, wouldn’t you agree? Axel agreed to no longer share personal details about us. Our story will fade from the public’s memory if we do nothing to remind them of it. So why remind them?”

  “Nothing’s ever forgotten, Max. Every time you and I go out to dinner together we’re at risk of being photographed and igniting the rumors all over again. It’s impossible to act as though it never happened.”

  “There is also no need to blatantly encourage speculation by acting provocatively.”

  Ethan’s fingers curled against his collarbones. “I’d be modeling, Max. Not ‘acting provocatively.’ What does that even mean? I know it can’t mean what it sounds like.”

  Max brushed water-darkened hair away from Ethan’s eyes. “A careless choice of words on my part.” He pressed a kiss to Ethan’s forehead. “You have always been a consummate professional in everything you do.”

  “But you think me wearing a suit—an outfit I wear every day to work—is somehow sexy or gay or whatever and will reflect badly on you and The Elite Poole.”

  “You said Merrick wouldn’t ‘frame’ this in a way that would hurt us. Those are your words. Yet how do you anticipate him framing these shots of you? You don’t think they’ll present you as alluring to both sexes? You don’t think he hopes to fire up the audience’s imagination?”

  Ethan averted his gaze. “No one can control what other people think.”

  “But your friend will make the attempt. That’s his job—to inspire imagination, and in this case, he’s looking to inspire fantasies of you. The audience will be comprised of as many men as women, all thinking the same of you: what are you like in bed? What do you enjoy? And now that the world knows that you share your bed with me, they’ll be wondering what I am like in bed and what techniques I use on you.”

  Ethan sighed loudly. “That’s not—”

  “It is,” Max interrupted him quietly but firmly. “Merrick knows this and is counting on you to not consider this angle. For you, the situation is simple: pose in clothes to help your friend’s career. But this is more than that. This is inviting strangers to climb into bed with us. I can’t allow that. I refuse to share you with anyone.”

  “I don’t want to share you with anyone, either, but I don’t believe that this ad campaign will be as big a deal as you’re making it out to be. It’s not as though this will be a weekly mailer to every household in America. It’s a high-end line with a clientele that will be—”

  “Completely lacking in physical desire or imagination?”

  “I’m not that hot,” Ethan said, glaring at Max. He didn’t seem to understand the preposterousness of his claim. “And these shoots won’t be sexual in nature. Merrick gave me his word on that.”

  “His word.”

  “Yes, Max. He did. And I believe him. So, if someone gets the wrong idea about me or us, they would have done so on their own.”

  “I can’t say that I agree with you.”

  Ethan opened his mouth and then shut it. He shook his head as if chastising himself for what he’d been about to say. He backed up, breaking Max’s loose hold on his hip and reached to the dispenser attached to the wall. He filled his palm with body wash and unhooked the sponge hanging beneath it. He lathered up the sponge.

  “There are photos of us, individually, on the internet already,” he said. He stepped up to Max again and began soaping his chest and shoulders. Whether it was a seduction attempt or fulfilling their basic purpose here, Max didn’t mind either way.

  “Remember when the fans of that singer—Moira Gray—began writing sex stories about the two of you just because the paparazzi took photos of you opening doors for her?”

  “How could I forget?” Max asked dryly. “I sometimes think I suffer from PTSD because of them.”

  Ethan grinned as he dragged the sponge over each of Max’s arms and then beneath them. “Those stories were crazy and based on absolutely nothing. You were acting as professionally as possible during that job and that’s my point. We can’t hide from the world’s opinion of us. People will think what they want, regardless of how we behave. This campaign won’t be any more risqué or suggestive than the photos that are taken of Elite Poole agents on the job every day of the week. But let’s say you’re right. Let’s say no matter what we intend, photos of us will inspire sexual fantasies. Why make that a negative? Why not use that exposure to our benefit?”

  Max shivered pleasantly as Ethan moved his attention to his groin, gently soaping his flaccid cock.

  “You’ve already been manipulating the public for years,” Ethan said in a lowered voice as he squeezed the sponge around Max’s cock and pulled from root to tip, lighting up every nerve ending along the way. “Every photo of an agent with a high-profile client is an advertisement. That’s part of the reason you hire only attractive agents. You know that people will pay attention to us and that will lead to business.”

  “Drawing attention to the agent’s presence while on the job is different from asking them to pose for a calendar,” Max murmured. “Elite Poole agents are selling the job and the company.”

  “Does it really bother you that I’d be selling suits?”

  “No,” Max admitted. “The problem is that it won’t be all that you’re selling.”

  He’d become hard beneath Ethan’s attention and it sharpened his awareness of Ethan’s handsomeness. Max questioned if he wasn’t mostly infected by jealousy that the world would get to ogle his husband. Anyone who picked up the magazine containing this ad would get to own a piece of Ethan, would have the opportunity to pull him into whatever depraved fantasy they wished to create. Even though Ethan had modeled for years before coming to Las Vegas, Max hadn’t been around to be disturbed by it. Now, though, he was.

  Ethan slowly lowered himself to his knees, dragging the soapy sponge with him down the inside of Max’s left thigh. Max’s cock pointed at his face and Ethan eyed it with a small smirk, but he began washing down Max’s legs as though he wasn’t aware of his state of excitement.

  “I think, Max, that you’re coming at this from the wrong angle. You’re thinking of this in terms of loss. Me in an ad is diminishing returns for whatever reason. But I’ve never met another man better at seizing control and turning situations to his advantage. Think of this as a competition. How can you beat Merrick at his own game—because I know there’s an element of competition in this, Max. I’m not stupid.”

  “I never suggested you are.” Max cupped the back of Ethan’s head and applied light pressure.

  Ethan laughed but gave in to the guidance, leaning forward to touch his lips to the very tip of Max’s cock. He held still there, looking up at Max from beneath wetted eyelashes as he said, “Beat Merrick at his own game. Prove you’re the better man. I already know this, but it doesn’t hurt to remind me.”

  “Shameless manipulation,” Max murmured, but lacking any disapproval. Ethan closed his lips around his tip and gently sucked. The urge was strong to grab a fistful of wet hair and thrust through that soft ring of flesh. But he’d already used Ethan in the bedroom. This was only play, and Max admittedly was intrigued by this scheming side of his lover.

  “You’ve already thought of a way to win this,” Ethan breathed against his tip. “Haven’t you?”

  Ethan was too clever by far. Not only was he using sex to try to get what he wanted, he was appealing to Max’s ego.

  At any rate, he wasn’t wrong. Max knew where Ethan was going with this. Max had seen and read about famous celebrities who’d used their fame as a platform to shine light on causes that wer
e important to them. Either they’d promoted the causes directly or made sure they were photographed purchasing or physically supporting the products and movements they believed in. Max had admired this simple solution to the vexing issue of invasion of privacy, but applying it to his own life didn’t sound nearly as admirable or appealing. He had a business to run. Time was money.

  But if the onus shifted to Ethan...

  When in Vegas, pick up the dice, Max thought wryly.

  “Stand up,” he ordered. Once the other man was on his feet, Max pointedly turned his back on him. Soon, he felt the soothing, slippery sensation of soapy bubbles gliding down his shoulders and back.

  "I am...considering what you've said," he admitted.

  Ethan combed his fingers through the short hairs at Max’s nape. “Isn’t there a saying about surviving a strong wind by bending with it rather than resisting it? Let’s bend, Max. Let’s make lemonade from these lemons.”

  “Too many proverbs for my comfort,” Max complained, but he kept his tone light. He was rapidly concluding that Determined Ethan had come to play and was gaining the edge. To defeat him and get his way, Max would have to pull out the big guns.

  He wasn’t certain it was worth it.

  He relaxed beneath Ethan’s attentions, giving a playful warning growl when Ethan dragged slippery fingers up his crease before laughing softly and continuing with his cleaning efforts. When Ethan had finished soaping him and had succumbed to caressing him, Max moved forward into the spray and rinsed himself off. He could feel Ethan’s eyes on him, so he played it up slightly, flexing his arms and earning him a muffled groan of appreciation. Smug, Max cleared the water from his eyes and then took the sponge from Ethan.

  “My turn,” he said. “Fingers laced behind your neck.”

  Ethan flushed in reaction to the request. The pose was submissive and showy and not something they used often. Ethan didn’t hesitate, however, and even spread his feet to give Max complete access to all parts of his body.