by Dana Delamar
Of course, Rod would pick the moment of my embarrassing groveling to saunter into our shared bungalow. By the rolling of his eyes, it was clear he’d heard. My face heated, and I turned my back to him.
“As I was saying,” my mother began, “your cousin Arjun and his family would like to attend the wedding.”
Not knowing why I should care, I played my part and asked, “Who is cousin Arjun again?” I thought I had a good handle on all my aunts and uncles as well as their children.
“Arjun is my great uncle Ishaan’s grandson.”
“So not my cousin.”
“He is family,” she said, her tone brooking no argument.
A second cousin once removed, but whatever. “How many people are we talking about?”
“His wife, her parents, their five children, and his wife’s little sister.”
“So, ten.” Ten people I’d never met in my life. “Will they stay at the house?”
My mother laughed uproariously at that. I held the phone away from my ear until it subsided. “Dear sweet Devkinandan, the house is already full to the rafters. Cousin Arjun and his family will stay at a hotel.”
I rapidly calculated last-minute airfare for ten people, hotel accommodations, and meals for a week. The amount was staggeringly ridiculous. Why hadn’t good cousin Arjun decided on this trip earlier? At least the airfare would have been cheaper. “That’s going to cost at least thirty thousand pounds.”
Rod made a choking sound, reminding me of his presence. I turned to look at him. His lips were wrapped around the neck of a water bottle, reminding me how they’d been wrapped around my cock not even forty-eight hours earlier. My dick began to swell. The experience had been incredible, far better than anything I could have imagined.
But it had been wrong.
Guilt swamped me, and my dick went limp. I slumped back onto the pillows. With my eyes closed, I said, “Use the American Express Platinum card on my dresser. It has a fifty-thousand-pound limit. That should cover it.” As well as any other unexpected family that surfaced with a burning desire to see someone they’d never met get married.
“Thank you, Devkinandan. You are a good son.” Her tone had brightened now that she’d won.
“I try.”
“I know. I also know we will be the proudest of parents when it is you standing before the community beside your beautiful young bride. I dream of the day I hold your son in my arms.”
Words failed to me. I knew the words I was supposed to say, but as I watched Rod munch on a candy bar from the mini fridge, the words refused to leave my mouth. I couldn’t surrender to my mother’s will in front of Rod, the man who’d been by my side since we’d been but boys. Rod would never subjugate himself to another’s will the way I was about to do. He’d never understand why I had to.
“Sleep well, Mum,” I said.
“Sleep well, my darling.”
I ended the call and put my mobile on the nightstand. Now that beds and furniture had been restored to the bungalow, it was rather nice, and I was determined to make full use of it. As was Rod, apparently.
He perched against a table by the window, his eyes drilling into me.
“They’re fucking bleeding you dry, Dev. What’s the tally for the wedding now? Hundred and fifty K? Two hundred K?”
I threw my legs over the side of the bed and shrugged. “It’s only money. I’ve more than enough.”
Rod pushed off the table. The sensual movement reminded me of a panther on the prowl, and my mouth went dry. Letting him suck me had been a mistake. Touching his hot cock, so sodding hard, had been an even worse one.
I couldn’t look at him without reliving the joy I’d felt in those moments, without remembering the pleasure in those sexy blue eyes, without feeling and smelling his cum on my fingers. Without wishing I had tasted it. Without wishing for more of him, more of Sky, more of us.
Rod stepped closer. I shoved my shaking hands between my thighs to hide their trembling. “It’s not just money, mate,” he said with a frown. “They’re using you.”
“No.” I shook my head. He didn’t understand that wasn’t our way. The money I earned belonged to my family. “That’s not how it is with family. You send money to your mother too.”
Rod waved my words off. “That’s different. She never asks for it. I’m giving it to her, and she uses it to raise my younger brothers and sister, not to impress the bloody neighbors.”
I sighed. “Rod, please, leave it. It’s a cultural thing that you wouldn’t understand.”
He scoffed. “Fine. Tell yourself that.” He flopped down onto his bed, grabbed the remote, and turned on the telly.
“What are you doing?” I asked in a near panic. I’d been pissed off at Rod for staying away all night, but now the reality of having him stretched out only a few feet away from me was too much to bear.
“Having a lie down before today’s challenge.” He shot me a sidelong glance. “What do you care?”
His cocky attitude combined with my general arousal reawakened my anger. “You aren’t spending the day with your girlfriend again?”
The words were barely out of my mouth before I wished I could shove them back in my great gob.
“My girlfriend?” Rod’s brow arched.
I wanted to wipe the smirk off his bloody handsome face. I jutted my chin out instead. Yes, I was acting like a five-year-old. Yes, I knew I was in the wrong here. But I didn’t care.
I wanted to fight with him.
Rod narrowed his eyes. “Sky slept with you when we first got here, then she slept with me. And then with both of us. And then with me again. None of us set any rules. So what are you so upset about?”
“I’m not upset,” I said mulishly.
Rod sat up and turned to mimic my position. We sat face to face on the edges of our beds, our knees only a few feet apart. He stared at me for several long moments. I felt his penetrating gaze sink into my body, and my cock jumped again. Bloody hell.
I watched him back, and realized I’d matched the pace of his breathing. The knowledge quickened my pulse.
His full lips curled into a smile. “You’re jealous.”
“Yes, you sodding prat!” I exploded. “Of course, I’m bloody jealous. I tell Sky that I love her, and then she runs off with you. For the entire fucking day. And night. How the hell else should I feel?”
“So, this is just about her?” Rod’s voice was soft in contrast to his hard-edged features. “What am I in all of this? Christ.” He rose and stepped around the end of his bed, his fingers digging into the mass of his light brown hair, hair I now knew was as soft as spun silk. “This isn’t a bloody fucking episode of The Bachelor, you miserable twat.”
I hung my head. I hadn’t meant to hurt Rod, yet I clearly had, and I was about to hurt him even worse. “I love her,” I whispered.
Rod spun around. His glare hit me like a laser beam, searing my chest raw. “Why did you start touching me then, eh? You seemed to enjoy it, not to mention having your dick in my mouth. You didn’t have any complaints then, did you?”
“Rod,” I choked.
“Your words say one thing, Dev, but your actions say another.”
I could admit that I’d been playing with fire, that I’d been curious, that I’d wanted, just for a moment, to give in to the heat between us. But I refused to admit that it had been on me. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”
Rod stepped over to me. He braced his hands on the bed by my hips, his mouth inches from mine, his breath warm on my lips.
He snarled. “You sure as hell didn’t push me away. And you touched me first.”
Before I could blink, his hot palm was on the swelling between my legs, his fingers circling my rigid cock. “You’re hard,” he said, his voice suddenly low and hoarse. His nostrils flared. He wasn’t unaffected.
I sat frozen, my eyes on his, every nerve in my body on alert. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. I could only feel.
Feel his hand on me. The squeeze
of his fingers. The ache in my cock. The pre-cum spurting from my slit, wetting my shorts.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t want everything that happened. Don’t tell me you didn’t want more.”
His palm pressed down on my cock, the pressure delicious. I could give in to him now. Give in to the desire, to the energy between us. I’d been denying it for so long, and I was so damn tired. Rod was right. I’d wanted every minute of what had transpired that night. Every sigh. Every grunt. Every breathless moan. I’d wanted the heft of him in my palm, the tightness of his throat around my cock.
But I’d also wanted things that hadn’t happened: his lips on mine, the taste of him in my mouth, my cock deep inside his arse.
My brain short-circuited on that last image. “I do want more,” I said, my voice strained, choked.
His expression softened and, oh God, I wanted him so much my chest ached and my cock throbbed. But if I succumbed to my desires, I stood to lose everything, especially him.
Using every bit of willpower remaining in my dwindling supply, I pressed my palms against his chest, and pushed him away. He stumbled back, his jaw dropping open.
I stood and slowly let my hands fall. “But I can’t, Rod. I can’t want you.”
And once again, I left the man who consumed me, body and soul.
SKY
Bubbling with excitement, I approached the makeshift podium where the King’s Cross roadies had assembled a mic and a speaker so everyone could hear me.
Today was a big day for me and the band. A day, I hoped, that would help bring Dev and Rod closer together, maybe all the way together. If this worked, then I’d do as I had promised Daniel, and I would tell Dev and Rod about my arrangement with TI and tell Dev about the bonus. They’d be pissed, and they’d likely hate me for what I’d done, but at least they would be together, and King’s Cross would go on. I couldn’t live with myself if I lost them and they lost each other.
A love that lasting had to win.
I stepped up to the podium and tapped the mic to make sure it was turned on. There was a thump and a squeal of feedback. Half of those gathered around, TI staff, King’s Cross’s crew, some resort staff, and, of course, the band, covered their ears and laughed.
When the sound guy adjusted some knobs on the soundboard and gave me a thumbs-up, I started. “Welcome everyone, to the last event of our mini Olympics. The guys have been great sports so far. Well, some more so than others.” I glanced toward Dev and Rod, who’d been teamed together but had barely spoken a word to each other all day. Dev, in particular, practically vibrated with tension. Rod’s constant mocking had done little to help.
“The standings after the six-legged crab race, the electric eel swim, the monkey swing, the slip and slide, and the seashell scramble are: Damon and Mick with three points.”
Loud hooting and wolf whistles interrupted me.
“Tommy and Jules with two points.”
“You got it, lads,” someone shouted.
“And Rod and Dev with zero points,” I finished. This announcement was met with a round of cheers and jeers, which Rod took in stride with his usual arrogant style. Dev, on the other hand, looked murderous. His dark scowl landed on some of the louder men, silencing them immediately.
“For our last event, I’ve instructed our athletes to wear jeans.” I turned to the crowd and winked. “And the tighter the better.”
The ladies, and some of the men, clapped. Rod held his arms out and made a slow circle. He’d definitely taken my advice to heart. There was a loud whistle. My eyes scanned the crowd until I found its source. Sharon, of course.
Too bad, lady. He’s mine.
The thought came quicker than I could stop it, and a lump formed in my throat. Rod wasn’t really mine, and after I told him and Dev the truth about my reasons for being here, he probably never would be.
Not to be outdone by Rod, Damon turned his back to the crowd and started twerking. Mick cupped his hands to his mouth and began to beatbox, the others egging Damon on. I laughed. It was impossible not to. We’d only been together eleven days, but each and every one of these men would forever have a place in my heart.
“Okay, okay, guys,” I said to get their attention back. Damon bowed, and everyone clapped. “Thank you for the impromptu demonstration, Damon,” I joked. “Who wants to know why they’re wearing such scandalously tight jeans?”
The crowd shouted.
I smiled. My eyes went to the guys. “Before I answer, I’m going to ask you to remove your shirts.”
That was a bit of grumbling from some of the men, but soon their T-shirts were in a pile in the sand.
“Thank you. Our next event will consist of two rounds of…” I paused, letting the anticipation mount. Then I picked up two bottles of olive oil and held them up. “Turkish oil wrestling!”
Damon, Rod, and Tommy cracked up. Mick, Jules, and Dev looked uncomfortable. I might even have heard a “fuck” and a “bloody hell.” Our audience, on the other hand, was ecstatic.
“I will need a few volunteers to oil the men up.”
I handed the bottles to Vanessa. She winked. “You’re my hero, Sky.”
I smiled wickedly. “You’re welcome.”
While the men were being oiled up, I explained how things would proceed. “The goal of Turkish oil wrestling is to exert control over your opponent by getting a firm hold of their pants… um… jeans, thus preventing them from moving. Regular wrestling moves are allowed, but let’s not hurt anyone, okay? This is supposed to be fun.”
I waited for the now slicked-up men to nod. “The first round will be Dev against Jules, Damon against Tommy, and Rod against Mick. The names of the winners will be put in a bag, and I’ll pick two. Those two will wrestle for the championship. If you win the first round you get one point. If you win the second round, you get three points. Any questions?”
Jules raised his hand. “What’s the prize for this again?”
“The first and second place teams will spend the night at the Marlon Brando Island resort.”
Cheers and hoots rose from the audience, and I could see the band members doing quick calculations. Dev and Rod still had a chance, if they each won their matches and one of them won the second round.
Rod nudged Dev with his shoulder. “We can do this, mate.”
Dev scowled at him and stepped away.
The hurt in Rod’s eyes dug into my heart like claws. I wanted this for him so badly. After the day we’d spent together, I had a new understanding of the man. I only wished Dev could see him the way I did. I swallowed against the tightness in my throat. “Men, please take your places.”
The opponents squared off in half-crouched positions. I allowed a pregnant pause before proclaiming, “Begin!” I started the timer on my phone. I’d let them go until one of them won, or I’d call a draw after ten minutes.
I stepped down from the podium to stand beside Vanessa and the other TI staff. Daniel crossed his arms. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Me too,” I said.
Vanessa squeezed my arm. “This is amazing, girl.”
Another woman I recognized but didn’t know the name of high-fived me. “Fucking awesome idea.”
I blushed and returned my attention to the men wrestling on the beach in sunny Moorea. Wow. It had been a fucking brilliant idea. Rod’s muscles gleamed and rippled with each move he made. He looked good. Really good. A lot healthier than when he’d first arrived, despite some peeling skin on his shoulders.
Tommy’s outraged shout rent the air. “You aren’t supposed to grab my bollocks.”
“I’m not?” Damon said, his voice and face dancing with humor. “I thought that was the point.”
“Oh God,” I said, laughing.
Not far away, Dev grunted as he heaved Jules into the sand. It stuck to their skin. I winced. Man, that had to be uncomfortable. In the videos I’d watched, the wrestling had always taken place on grass. Now I understood why.
Dev grabb
ed the back of Jules’s jeans and twisted until he had a handful of denim. Jules squealed like a pig to the amusement of everyone watching. “Let me go, you bloody tosser. My wife wants another kid. If you castrate me before I can get the job done, she’ll bloody murder you.”
Even Dev cracked a smile at that. “Hold still, then, you stonking whinger.” He threw a leg over Jules’s, and that was it.
I blew the whistle and declared Dev the winner. This spurred the others on, and soon all three matches were over.
I returned to the podium. “Whew!” I said, wiping my brow. “Was that hot or what?”
“Yes!” everyone shouted.
“Dev, Damon, and Rod have won their matches, so the standings are now Damon and Mick with four points, Tommy and Jules with two points, and Dev and Rod also with two points.”
Jules and Tommy were out of the running for first place, but could still tie for second if Rod and Dev lost. On the other hand, if Dev or Rod won this match, they would win the challenge. If Damon won, he and Mick would win the challenge. The audience was antsy with excitement. Dev seemed a little more centered, less jumpy, but every time he looked at Rod, a scowl formed between his brows.
I made a show of putting three pieces of paper with each of the men’s names into a bag I’d brought along. “I’m going to pick two names for the final match.”
There was a fifty-eight percent chance I’d pick both Dev’s and Rod’s names. But if I picked Damon’s, would I lie? I hadn’t decided yet. Either way, Damon and Mick would still go to the resort. But I’d potentially be punishing Tommy and Jules.
Vanessa extended the bag toward me. I held my breath and stuck my hand inside, praying for luck to be on my side. I read the first name. “Dev.”
Time for the second name. I had a fifty percent chance of picking Rod’s name. Please, please, please, I begged the universe.
I pulled out a second piece of paper and slowly unfolded it. Rod. Thank God. My breath came out in a rush, and I smiled. “Rod. Dev and Rod, you will face off for the final round. Please assume the position.”
Dev threw down the bottle of water he’d been drinking. His face darkened, and he glared at me. I widened my eyes in surprise. He no doubt thought I’d arranged this, all to get him and Rod together. He wasn’t entirely wrong, and the guilty pangs in my stomach attested to that.