You Were Made for Me

by Tinnean

  Quinn turned to stare at me, then shook his head and started to chuckle.

  “This isn’t funny, Mann,” Taylor snapped. “I saw him drag you into the restroom. I know what you two were doing in there!”

  That took a massive amount of intelligence.

  “And that would be?” The Ice Man regarded him with a bored expression.

  “You were fucking!”

  “You know this for a fact?”

  “Why else would two men go into a restroom?”

  “To use the facilities?”

  “But you came out smiling!”

  “Mark, did you hear that? We were smiling.”

  Taylor stood there muttering something under his breath and clenching his fists.

  We didn’t need this bullshit. “Quinn, Portia is waiting for us.”

  “Yes, Mark.” He started to turn away, but Taylor grabbed his arm.

  “I’m informing Director Rayner.”

  Quinn dropped his hand over Taylor’s. It was impossible to see what he did, but Taylor suddenly turned green and looked like he was about to toss his cookies. Quinn released his hand, and Taylor yanked it back and shook it.

  “And this should concern me how?” God, Quinn was a pleasure to watch. “I no longer work for the CIA. Or have you forgotten that?”

  “The director wants you back.” Taylor sounded like a sullen brat.

  “Well, he’s not getting him back,” I snarled.

  Taylor scowled at me. “Stay out of this, you… you fag.”

  I blinked. Was that the worst he could call me? “My feelings are hurt.”

  “Taylor, you’ve said more than enough. I suggest you leave us alone.”

  Of course Taylor didn’t have the smarts to walk away. He opened his mouth to say something else, and I knew that while it would aggravate Quinn, he’d let it pass.

  Not me. I popped Taylor one in that fucking mouth of his, and his legs flew out from under him and he landed on his ass. He cupped his mouth, although that didn’t stop the blood from seeping from his cut lip.

  “Problem here?” Airport security strode up to us.

  “This… this… person attacked me!” Taylor mumbled through the blood that dripped down onto his tie.

  “Nope,” I said at the same time.

  “Oh, Mr. Vincent. Hi. How are you?”

  “Good, thanks.” I knew the man. He’d been the partner of one of my police contacts on the DC force until he’d been injured on the job. Samuels had informed me, and I’d made sure Powell’s family was okay and that he had a job. “How are the kids?”

  “Doing well. The oldest starts college next month. Cornell,” he said proudly.

  “I’m glad to hear she was accepted.”

  “Thanks. So, what’s going on here?”

  I shrugged. “He fell down.”

  “Arrest him!” Taylor screeched.

  “Why?”

  “Why? Why? He assaulted me!”

  “I didn’t see that, but if I had, and knowing Mr. Vincent, I’d have to say you probably had it coming.”

  Taylor gaped at him, then snapped his mouth shut. “I want your name and badge number!” He squinted at Powell’s name tag. “I’m reporting you, Powell!”

  I sighed and shook my head. These idiots. “I’ll handle this, Powell.” We shook hands, and he went off to answer a call on his walkie-talkie. I leaned down, caught Taylor by his lapels, and yanked him to his feet. “You’re not doing anything, Taylor.”

  His eyes widened as I pulled him close enough so only he could hear me.

  “The WBIS is very good at making people disappear.” I could tell him about that plot of ground in Prospect Hill Cemetery, but then he might get curious and have the place dug up. The Boss would be able to tap dance his way around it, but it would be annoying, especially since certain members of this administration had a hard-on for him.

  “Are… are you threatening me?” His face had now gone pasty-white, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

  “Let’s just call this a friendly warning. Leave Powell the fuck alone. Leave Mann alone. If word gets back to me that you’ve harassed them in any way, well… you know my reputation. It was well-earned.” I brushed off his lapels, set him away from me, and turned to Quinn.

  Quinn glanced at Taylor, who had fished a handkerchief from his pocket and was holding it to his mouth. “I’m gratified that Mark is willing to look out for me, but as just an FYI… I’m quite capable of dealing with worms like you. My family is well-to-do. In addition, we have friends in positions of power. You can attempt to make my life miserable, but I can guarantee that if you do, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish you’d never been born.”

  Taylor’s eyes had grown huge, and if his Adam’s apple had bobbed overtime before, now it looked like it was trying to come out through his mouth.

  “Now. If this conversation is completed?”

  That was my guy. Why did people think that because Quinn was a gentleman, he couldn’t be ruthless?

  He turned to me. “Are you ready for lunch?”

  “Sure.” I looked down at my hands. “I have to wash my hands. Again.”

  We went back into the men’s room, and by the time we were done washing our hands and left, Taylor was nowhere to be seen.

  Portia looked up when we joined them. She studied Quinn, then frowned. “Trouble, sweetheart?”

  “We ran into Jenner’s assistant as we came out of the men’s room. He threatened to tell tales.”

  Novotny glared at me. “And you let him?”

  Did he think I couldn’t take care of Quinn?

  Quinn must have known I wasn’t in the mood to exchange taunts, because he spoke before I could. “No, Gregor. Mark put the fear of God into him.”

  “Humph.”

  Winchester, who was seated on the other side of the table, stared wide-eyed from Novotny to Quinn to me. When he realized I was watching him, he ducked his head, reached for a celery stalk that accompanied the Buffalo wings in a couple of baskets on the table.

  He peeked up, and when he saw me still watching him, his shoulders slumped, and he leaned forward. “Sorry, sir,” he said quietly, so no one would hear him. “I just… I never thought about you with a family.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t think about it again.”

  “No, sir.” He got busy dipping the celery stalk in the bleu cheese dressing.

  Portia touched my arm. “I’ve been guarding your club soda, Mark.”

  “Thank you, Portia. Have you ordered?”

  “Just the appetizers.” An order of spinach dip was also on the table. “We thought we’d wait for you.”

  “Let’s get started, then.” I gave Novotny a glare. “Quinn’s famished.”

  Quinn rested his hand on my lower back and nodded toward a chair beside Portia’s. We sat down, picked up the menus, and began to study them.

  “What looks good, babe?” he asked.

  You do. I stared at him, not saying a word, and when he finally met my gaze and saw what was in my eyes, he blushed and bumped his shoulder against mine.

  I cleared my throat. “I think I’ll order the surf and turf burger.”

  “I believe I will also.” Quinn closed the menu and set it aside.

  Portia raised a hand, and a waiter hurried over. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “We’ll order now.”

  We gave our orders, and conversation became desultory while we waited for our meal to arrive.

  Out of sight under the table, Quinn reached for my hand.

  It had been my idea to get Quinn out of DC until things calmed down, but damn…

  It was going to be a long five weeks.

  Chapter 3: July/August 2003

  I

  IT WAS TIME for us to go through Security. Mother rested her palm against my cheek. “Take care, sweetheart. Call if you need anything.”

  I kissed her cheek, hugged Gregor, and shook hands with Jefferson and Ludovic.

  Mark step
ped into my personal space, but I knew he wouldn’t kiss me in such a public area. He gripped my shoulder. “Take it easy, get some rest, and don’t get shot or kidnapped.”

  “I won’t, Mark.”

  He gave a brisk nod and stepped back, joining Winchester, who stood there quietly. As a matter of fact, he’d been silent the entire time he’d been with us. I was certain Mark had mentioned something about him being hyper…

  Well, it didn’t matter. I entered the security line behind my uncles.

  After we got through Security, I raised my hand in a wave. Mark nodded, and I headed down to the terminal out of which we’d be flying.

  It was a quiet flight. Tony and Bryan sat beside each other, while I sat in the emergency exit row. I took out a Robert Ludlum paperback and lost myself in the events on The Road to Gandolfo.

  A LITTLE MORE than six hours later our flight landed in LAX, and we disembarked. Once we were in the terminal, I turned my phone back on.

  “Hmm.”

  “What is it, Quinn?”

  “I have about half a dozen calls in my voicemail.”

  “Oh?” Tony suddenly looked tired. “Don’t tell me. The Company?”

  “Yes. I recognize Bram’s number.”

  “Dammit. Are you going to listen to them?

  I nodded. It was the courteous thing to do. One after another, they all said more or less the same thing.

  “You have to come back.”

  “Please come back.”

  “We’ll give you your own department to run.”

  “You can have whoever you want working for you, and no one will interfere with how you run things.”

  “We’ll give you a raise—”

  “Seriously, Quinton? He does realize you’re well off?”

  I shrugged and played the last call.

  “Name your own conditions.”

  I shook my head. This was the last thing I needed, but I called back.

  “Quinn. Thank God you got back to me. When are you—?”

  I had no qualms in interrupting Bram. “I’m not coming back, and no amount of pleading will persuade me otherwise.”

  “But—”

  “Furthermore, I’m not interested in having my own department.” Although at one point I would have liked nothing better. “I was satisfied with the people who worked with me. I don’t need a raise. And finally… are you going to get those people to safety? Because if that isn’t on the table, then this conversation is concluded.”

  “Quinn, you have to understand—”

  “Goodbye, Rayner. Don’t call me again.” I hung up and put my phone back in my pocket.

  “I’m sorry.” Tony rubbed my arm, which surprised me. He’d never been one for public displays of affection. “Baggage claim is this way. Let’s collect our luggage.”

  ~*~

  “I RENTED A Maserati for you, Quinn,” Bryan said as we headed for the rental area. “I knew you’d need a car, and while I’d offer my Ferrari…”

  “I understand, Uncle Bryan.” That car was his baby, and he didn’t let anyone drive it.

  “I still don’t understand why you felt you needed a convertible,” Tony groused at him.

  Bryan just smiled, then turned back to me. “I would have rented a Lamborghini for you, but it only sat two. Of course your uncle could have squeezed into the back, but he would have had to suck in his gut.”

  “Or I could sit up front with you in the back.” Tony caught him around the neck and gave him a slight shake. “Just remember, you can be replaced, little brother.”

  I thought Bryan would get that closed-off expression he wore when Tony snarked at him, but his smile just broadened.

  “By a puppy? I don’t think so, big brother. Who’d make sure you took your heart medication?”

  Tony gave a snort of laughter. It was good to see them getting along so well.

  Just then, a bright red Maserati coupe pulled around the corner of the building. The driver, a woman wearing a blue one-piece uniform, pressed a button on the dash, causing the trunk to open. She stepped out of the car, examined the paperwork, and nodded to us. “Keys are in the ignition.”

  “Thank you.”

  We put our luggage in the trunk, and what didn’t fit there went into the rear seat beside Bryan. His legs weren’t quite as long as Tony’s, and although the fit was rather tight, he didn’t complain.

  It wasn’t late by LA standards when we arrived at my uncles’ home, but I was grateful Mark had suggested I take some down time.

  “Quinn, why don’t you go up and get some rest? I called Cisco before we left National and told him to stock the kitchen. We can have a snack later, reminisce about Alyona, if you like.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Tony, but if you wouldn’t mind, I think I’ll call it a day.” I also wanted to call Mark and let him know I’d arrived.

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Bryan said. They headed for the elevator, dragging their suitcases behind them, and gave identical tired grins as the doors slid shut.

  I headed toward the curving staircase with my own suitcase and went up to the room at the front of the house; I used it whenever I stayed with them. I put my suitcase on the luggage rack, removed my suit jacket, toed off my shoes, and dropped down on the bed. After drawing in a deep breath, I took out my phone and dialed Mark.

  He picked up after two rings. “Hey, babe.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Sure, why wouldn’t it be?”

  “You didn’t answer on the first ring.”

  He snorted, then chuckled. “I think I’ve spoiled you.”

  “You’re my guy, aren’t you?”

  “Damn straight, I am. How was your flight?”

  “Good. A little turbulent, but nothing to write home about. I had a number of calls from Rayner.”

  “Shit. He’s not taking no for an answer?”

  “He will now. I told him in no uncertain terms not to call me again.” Abruptly, I found myself yawning. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Get some rest. And forget about that asshole. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  “Quinn?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks for calling.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  We were both silent for a beat.

  “I’m not gonna send kissy noises over the phone, Quinn.”

  I burst out laughing, then went ahead and made a kissy noise.

  “Ass.” Mark laughed as well.

  “I love you, Mark.”

  “Back atcha, babe. ’Night.”

  “Good night.” I turned off my phone and set it on the night table, then pushed off from the bed and unpacked. Under the suits and shirts I’d worn for the past few days was a surprise from Mark. I couldn’t help smiling as I set it aside.

  I contemplated the suits and dress shirts, setting aside the shirts that would need to be laundered. For the most part, what I’d brought would be too much for the casual atmosphere of California. I’d go shopping in the morning and pick up clothes that would be more suitable. I’d see if Bryan wanted to go with me. He’d know the most likely shops.

  I stripped down to my boxers and slid my thumbs in the waistband, but before I lowered them, I paused. Without Mark in bed with me, there was no reason to be naked.

  I recalled the brief interlude in the restroom at National and gave my cock a leisurely rub. Finally I pulled back the covers and climbed into bed.

  It felt empty. I missed Mark. He’d shared this bed with me the last time he’d been here, and I drew the pillow he’d laid his head on into my arms. Of course there was no hint of the Irish Spring he showered with or the shampoo he used, but I had a good scent memory. I was able to imagine I held him as I drifted off to sleep.

  ~*~

  WHEN I WOKE the next morning, I turned my head to kiss my lover, only to find myself alone. This should have been a honeymoon period for us. Instead, I was here in LA, while Mark was back in DC.

&nb
sp; I sighed, reached into my shorts, and fondled my cock. It was pleasant, but it wasn’t Mark’s hand on me. Once again it felt like those days before I’d met him, when there had been no wild desire for sex, when I could take it or leave it, and I had no trouble in leaving it at all.

  Tonight, I thought. I’d be more rested when I called Mark, and just the sound of his voice in my ear would be enough to get me hard and ready to spread my legs and raise my ass. He wouldn’t be here to fuck me, but I’d found the present he’d somehow slipped into my suitcase, as well as the stimulation gel. I stroked the glass dildo I’d found there. It was about eight inches long, with a flared base that would only allow an entry of six inches. I hadn’t packed it, and I had no idea how or when Mark had, but I’d shivered and hardened when I first found it. It wasn’t Mark, but I’d make do.

  I gave it some thought as I continued to stroke the blue rings that ran the length of the dildo. I couldn’t chill it in my uncles’ freezer, but I’d fill the bathroom sink with cold water, then slick up the cool glass and use it to penetrate myself. I’d read about it and was interested in seeing how it would feel. I had no doubt it would warm up quickly to body temperature. Once it did, I would imagine it was Mark fucking me.

  The mental image was… well, as Mark would say, it was fucking hot. The corner of my mouth tipped up at how Mark had successfully thawed the Ice Man. I’d put my phone on speaker, take the cool dildo from its water bath, tease my hole with its slicked tip, and listen while Mark whispered hoarse words of lust until we both climaxed.

  I shivered and squeezed the base of my cock. I’d wait until this evening when I’d have more than my imagination to keep me company.

  I showered and shaved—I’d grown tired of the goatee and hadn’t kept it very long—tidied the bed, dressed in what Mark liked to refer to as Mann casual, and went downstairs to see about breakfast.

  ~*~

  TONY AND BRYAN weren’t up yet, but I was familiar enough with their kitchen to start a pot of coffee brewing, make an omelet, and toast some whole wheat bread.