No Boundaries

by SE Jakes

  “You had this all planned.”

  “Totally. You can’t blame me for not wanting you in your old place. I don’t think you’re entirely comfortable there anymore. And so you’ll spend nights here with me because you don’t want to be alone there. And that’s not going to help you know whether or not you’re with me because of me…or because you need an escape.” Marcus paused. “No strings, Cole. If things go bad between us…I want you in my life. Okay?”

  Cole used the key and opened the apartment door. “I can’t fucking afford this.”

  “Yeah, you can.”

  He wanted to argue with Marcus, but, fuck, everything in his gut told him this was right. “Fine. But you’re accepting my money.”

  “I know that.”

  At least Cole’s boss had agreed to give him his old job back. He’d start tomorrow. “Fine. It’s a deal.”

  “Good. Back to bed. You’ll be agreeing to more things before I’m through,” Marcus promised.

  The next night, after work, Cole turned in his notice to his old landlord, who was pretty understanding, and then he rode his Harley over to Marcus’s. When he opened the door and took his bags from where Marcus had left them, right near the stairs leading to Marcus’s own bedroom, of course, he dumped his bags inside the apartment space as he heard Marcus coming down the stairs.

  But really, seeing this place in the fading daylight made him realize how much Marcus really did care about him.

  “Hey, things okay?” Marcus sounded concerned, probably because Cole was just standing there staring.

  Okay? It was gorgeous. A large, loftlike space that was furnished, freshly painted, with dark hardwood floors that were pristine. It was better than he’d remembered it from last night. He cleared his throat before saying, “Yeah, it’s pretty perfect.”

  “Be more perfect if you were staying with me.”

  Cole turned to him. “Marcus…”

  “I know, I know. But don’t expect not to share a bed with me, Cole. I’ve gotten too used to that.”

  Cole had too. And so he let Marcus pull him into his arms. In turn, Cole wrapped his arms around Marcus’s shoulders and stared up at him. “It’s really over with Seth, right?”

  “He’s gone, Cole. He’s never going to hurt you again,” Marcus said gently.

  Marcus had killed for him. His life—all of their lives—had been in danger…and instead of Cole having to live every day wondering if Seth was going to escape prison or defy his restraining order, Marcus had taken care of it.

  After they’d gotten Cole’s things inside, it was time for a run to the tailor, who’d agreed to have Marcus and Cole come in after closing time.

  Marcus told Cole he’d help him unpack later, although really, he planned on making sure Cole put that off for as long as possible. To that end, he’d put on a delicious-smelling stew that he knew would immediately distract Cole when they walked back into the house.

  Now, inside the expensive, exclusive men’s shop, Marcus watched Cole trying on various tuxes and coming out to look at himself in the big mirrors. He listened to the tailor, smiled when he noticed Marcus staring at him. But, in general, Cole seemed genuinely unfazed by the wealth. It wasn’t that he didn’t notice it, because he did and he surveyed it coolly as if he recognized it as a long-lost enemy, but it didn’t affect him. It didn’t make him shrink back or slump his shoulders or do anything differently. He was still simply Cole, with his rumpled hair and his well-fucked looks.

  Except these days, Marcus was the one putting those looks on his face.

  Now, Cole sat next to him as they waited for the tailor to do a few quick alterations before calling it a night.

  “How was work?” Marcus asked him.

  “It’s good to be back. Have a couple of classics to work on. But you know…I was thinking that there’s something else I want to do.”

  “Volunteer with Law?”

  “Well, yeah, that’s a given. But I want to open a gym—a boxing gym. One where I can donate a lot of time to the kids at the shelter.” He looked down at his new shoes and said, “I’ve been saving up. It’s not enough, I know, but maybe I could get a loan.”

  And it was the sweetest goddamn thing he’d ever heard, and he knew deep in his heart that Cole wasn’t asking him for the money or insinuating that at all…but still every single fucking ridiculous alarm bell in Marcus’s head went off. “That sounds like a great idea,” he said noncommittally.

  Cole cocked his head and looked at him funny. He just nodded like he’d expected a different kind of answer, or maybe a little more enthusiasm, but he just shrugged. And then the tailor called him over to try on the tux again.

  You are so fucked up, Marcus.

  “You are so fucked up, Marcus,” Clint told him an hour later, when Cole had gone to his apartment to unpack, something Marcus had desperately not wanted him to do earlier.

  And now? He was really thrown. And fucked up. Completely. “What’s wrong with me, Clint? And please be more specific,” he said now.

  He’d sought his old friend out and now he sat at his kitchen table, Skyping with Clint, and he couldn’t disagree with what Clint was saying. But that didn’t help anything.

  “So let me get this straight.” Clint pointed at him. “Cole mentions wanting to open a boxing gym to help the shelter kids. Kids who were just like he was.”

  “Not like he wants to buy clothes or a new car or a big house. He wants to open a gym to help shelter kids, and you’ve somehow interpreted that as he wants to use you for your money.” And that last part was told to Marcus by Jace, Clint’s boyfriend, who Marcus hadn’t asked to get involved but, hell, when it was laid out like that…

  “I’ve been used before” was all he said.

  “Does Cole even know you have money?” Jace asked.

  Marcus looked at Clint. “I didn’t realize he was a part of this conversation.”

  “Good luck trying to stop him. Besides that, he’s doing a damn good job of showing you what an ass you’re being,” Clint said, and Jace simply smiled.

  “Okay, no, he doesn’t know how much money I have. I mean, he knows I’ve got money but…I don’t think he’s got a real grasp of it.”

  “Did he ask you to cosign a loan?” Jace continued.

  “No,” he ground out.

  Jace threw his hands in the air as if Marcus was hopeless and walked out of the room, muttering to himself.

  “You’ve started thinking about the fucking black-ops job again,” Clint said, wagging his finger at Marcus through the screen. “It’s like your form of fucking penance. And it’s running. Stay with Cole and figure your shit out.”

  Marcus hated how right Clint was—and Jace too—and how wrong he was…and how much his past dogged him. “I will,” he said finally, and he meant it. To show Clint how serious he was, he held up his phone after blocking the guy’s number who called him about the jobs.

  “It’s a first step,” Clint told him. “Now keep moving forward.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  It was getting harder to ignore the fact that Marcus had some real money. Cole didn’t know if Marcus was self-made or if it was family money, but between the beach house, the main house with the apartment and tux shopping…well, the writing was on the wall.

  And since Cole knew that the money thing was one of Marcus’s hang-ups, he wasn’t quite sure how to deal with it. He was definitely able to go with the flow of things…to a point. But when he was walking into things completely unprepared, his defenses immediately went up.

  As they were now, as Marcus drove them to the event. Which, it turned out, according to the invitation, was some kind of gala. Which made it seem far grander than an event. And Marcus was barely talking now, just staring straight ahead, which made Cole even more uncomfortable.

  Things hadn’t been right since the fitting the night before. They’d had sex—and they were good at sex, but right afterward, even though Marcus threw his arm across Cole and fell asleep, t
hings had been off.

  Maybe it’s because we were both almost killed by a stalker. In a way, that was still hovering over them. Cole had woken up in a cold sweat about it last night, but Marcus hadn’t…and Cole hadn’t wanted to burden him.

  God, you really suck at this relationship shit.

  “We’ll be there in ten,” Marcus told him now.

  “Okay, great.” Cole shifted. “So, this money thing…” he started, and Marcus shrugged.

  “Family money. I inherited some, but I’m also good with investments. It’s the family business. Just because I chose another route for my career didn’t mean I didn’t inherit the gift for it. Is that a problem for you?”

  “Not for me. But I know you’re touchy about it.”

  “Touchy, yeah,” Marcus echoed.

  Hell, this was not the kind of conversation they should be having right before some kind of fancy gala thing. This was the kind of thing that made Cole realize that maybe they didn’t know each other at all, that maybe the past month had been built on sex and danger alone.

  And he let those thoughts freak him the fuck out, enough so that he hadn’t noticed Marcus had pulled over right outside the gates of a massive-looking mansion with grand grounds and luxury cars and limos pulling into the long driveway.

  Oh fuck me. “Is this what you didn’t want to tell me?” Cole asked, unable to stop his eyes from widening in surprise and slight horror at the venue. “Because your family’s name’s on the side of the goddamned building.”

  Marcus gripped the wheel tightly and nodded. “Like I said, my family’s got some money.”

  Cole’s neck snapped toward him. “Ya think? And you didn’t think it was important to tell me until right this minute?”

  “Cole—”

  “There’s still no trust there.”

  “Look, in my experience, people always want something, whether it’s money, reputation or power. Most people who want that don’t deserve it. I didn’t earn my family’s money, which was why I went out and worked for a living. I put my inherited money in trust and gave a lot of it to charities. So I don’t have money to hand out. I don’t bankroll projects, okay?”

  “What the fuck—did you memorize that speech? Do you give it on second dates?” Cole asked. “And what projects are you talking about?”

  Marcus turned to him. “I just want to make it clear…the gym you were talking about…”

  “You’re fucking kidding me, aren’t you?” Cole demanded. “I didn’t ask you for shit. I didn’t even think…fuck, but you did. That’s the first thing you thought of. The first thing you’re always going to think of whenever I mention anything like that. Christ, we can survive almost being killed together but your money issues will tear us apart.”

  “Money makes people do weird things, Cole,” Marcus told him, an edge to his voice. “Everyone always has something to gain.”

  “Like you didn’t gain anything from your family’s money?” Cole challenged. “You know what I gained from my family? Pretty much life, and that’s it, Marcus, so the next time you’re going to accuse me of shit, get your facts straight. Because I turned down money. A hell of a lot of it too. You think guys didn’t want to buy me full time? I had plenty of sugar daddies lined up—all I had to do was say the word.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “Never.”

  Marcus sat stiffly. “This was a bad idea.”

  “Yeah, I’m guessing so.”

  “Not bringing you, Cole. Nothing about you.”

  Cole definitely didn’t believe him. “You should’ve told me about this ahead of time. You can’t throw this shit on me.”

  And then he opened the door and got out, all the while wanting to hear Marcus call for him, wanting Marcus to stop him…

  All the while knowing that wouldn’t happen. And when he got the courage to finally turn, he saw that Marcus’s car was gone from the curb, no doubt swallowed up in the line for the gala.

  He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets and kept going in the opposite direction.

  As he walked along, he thought about Law. What Law would do in this case. But he realized that the only thing that mattered is what he himself wanted to do. What he was going to do. And he realized that he didn’t have to wonder. Instead of guessing, he pulled out his phone, and he dialed.

  “You’ve already made up your mind” was one of the first things Law said after Cole told him the story.

  Marcus had only watched Cole’s back in the rearview mirror for a few long moments before he’d pulled away and into the valet line for the party.

  He didn’t want to be back here, mentally or physically. Dammit. He thought Cole could heal him—and fuck it all, he had. Marcus guessed he hadn’t done the same for Cole.

  Yeah, I’m totally fucked up. And I just let the best thing that ever happened to me walk away.

  But he steeled himself, and he went inside and he began the serious business of bullshitting and air kissing. Shaking hands, pasting on a smile and pretending all was right with the world.

  “Marcus, I was hoping you’d be here.” Claude, his ex, was standing in front of him, holding two glasses of champagne, one of which he handed to Marcus.

  “Thanks.” Marcus accepted the glass and took a small sip, then a larger one. He’d take a cab home if he had to.

  “You look great.”

  “You too.” Marcus had long ago grown indifferent to the man who’d once sliced out his heart. Claude dated many of the wealthy men in his community, although he got away with it because of his good looks and his ability to reflect well on whomever he was dating. Really, it had been Marcus’s fault—he’d assumed far too much for a first-time love. But that didn’t mean that the ache inside of him wasn’t cavern-sized now, thanks to Cole.

  “You’re not seeing anyone?” Claude asked.

  Marcus opened his mouth, then realized he had no fucking idea what to say, because any of it would make him sound pathetic.

  It was then that Cole slid a hand through his arm and across his lower back. “Sorry I’m late—what did I miss?”

  Marcus stared at him. Blinked. Cole gave him a small smile—part fierce pride, part apology for his role in the fight…and hell, Cole had nothing to apologize for. Marcus’s hand went up to give an unmistakably intimate rub to the back of Cole’s neck. “Need a drink?”

  Cole looked at the one in Marcus’s hand and said “I’ll be driving later” so suggestively that Claude choked on his own drink.

  Until then, Marcus had forgotten Claude. Now his ex was standing there gaping at them. “Oh sorry—Cole, this is Claude.”

  “Hey.” Cole stuck out a hand and Marcus watched, bemused. “Gonna steal him away.”

  Cole coughed and Marcus sighed internally, and right then and there, he knew it was all over for him…and that he’d never really stood a chance against Cole.

  Cole was smaller, but he could fight. He was tough. That alone made Marcus’s cock hard. Marcus had always known how protective he was, but hell, Cole was actually a little…growly. And as handsome as he was, an angry Cole was a little goddamned scary.

  And hot. And he told Cole that.

  “Shut up, Marcus.” Cole shoved him playfully. “Do you need me to take you to the bathroom to shut you up?”

  “Probably, yes.”

  Cole nodded—no smile breaking through. But Marcus’s hard cock was telling him everything he needed to know. “Want me to kick Claude’s ass?”

  “I told you I don’t care about him. I only care about you.”

  Cole’s expression softened a bit. “I still want to kick his ass though.”

  “I don’t blame you.” And when Marcus walked Cole away from the main crowd into a more private space, he said, “You’re fucking moving in with me. Fuck the other apartment, okay? You’re moving in with me and you’re marrying me. That’s it, I’m done.”

  Cole’s eyes widened. “You’re so motherfucking romantic.”

  “I’ll try t
o keep it toned down.”

  Cole swallowed noticeably hard. “I love you, Marcus. Better than that, I trust you.”

  “That’s a yes then?”

  “Definitely.”

  Marcus smiled. “I suppose it’s time for you to meet the family you’re marrying into.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Cole asked. He had no doubts about being with Marcus—not anymore, but meeting the family…

  “Very. Come on.”

  But as he walked in next to Marcus and eyes turned in his direction, he knew that it wasn’t going to go well. He’d worked parties like this, so he knew the deal.

  Marcus’s family greeted him with what could only be called light disdain. At best.

  “Cole, lovely to meet you.” Marcus’s mom’s voice dripped with a haughty accent that told everyone she believed exactly the opposite of what she said. “How did you meet Marcus?”

  “At work.”

  “You’re a PI, then?”

  “No, an auto mechanic. I work on Harleys too.”

  “Really. So you don’t have much in common with him then?”

  He was about to say “not beyond cock” when Marcus stepped in. “Mother, really?”

  “It’s a fact, Marcus.” She fluffed the back of her hair with a perfectly manicured hand. “If that was the only issue, I could ignore it. But he’s a baby.”

  “He’s standing right here, sweetheart.” Cole smiled innocently.

  “Come on, let’s mingle.” Marcus tugged his arm while Cole was mentally patting himself on the back for rendering Marcus’s mother speechless.

  He was sure it wouldn’t last long though. “I want to get out of here.”

  “I understand. I really do. But I’m here for a specific purpose. Trust me, this isn’t my regular scene,” Marcus assured him.

  Just then, there was an announcement booming through the room that asked for Marcus, the head of the Give Back charity, to please come to the podium.

  Marcus glanced at Cole as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out what Cole assumed was a speech.