Tied: A Crown and Anchor Novella

by Kerri Ann

  Seeing Mr. Marshall moving tables again as he makes his way to the door, I’m pulled from my perusal of him when Fester speaks up.

  Yawning, he gazes at his watch. “It’s late, boys. I’m headin’ to bed.” Rising from the seat, he says, “Thank you again for an entertaining afternoon in the world of politics, Beauford.”

  He laughs, hard and deep. “Fester, anytime you wanna throw down, consider me a player in that game. Give me a second to say good night to these youngins and I’ll follow you out,” Bullet states, tipping his glass to finish the remainder of its contents.

  “You’re going to bed?” Fester questions the other elder governor.

  “Fuck no. I’m about to go find me a bit of entertainment, boys.” Rising, he taps me on the shoulder. “Thanks for the backup, young man.”

  “Next time though, we keep the loaded guns in the hotel room, yeah?”

  “If you’re going to disarm me that fast again, you got it.” Extending his hand for a shake, I grasp it tight. “When you get a chance to visit Texas next, we’ll go out for a hunt. I have a feeling you could best me.”

  “Your hunt, your rules.”

  “I bet.” He smirks as he walks towards the door.

  Rising on unsteady legs, Galen states, “I think it’s bedtime.”

  Reaching for him as he works for balance, I hang on to one of his arms to steady him as he teeters. “Whoa, Galen.”

  “You think you could help him up to his room, Chris?” Bullet asks.

  “Yeah. I got him.”

  “Good. ’Cause I still have some energy left in these old bones.” Clicking his neck, popping his knuckles and grinning, Bullet follows out behind Fester. “I’ll be findin’ me a filly in the bar for some fun. Have a nice night.” He winks. “See you for breakfast.”

  As the two of them saunter off, one to bed and one to gather someone for his bed, I hold Galen up. “Come on, man. Let’s get you to bed.”

  He slurs out, “Sounds good. Wife’ll murder me if took a girl to bed.”

  Leaving the room, I look one last time to see where Mr. Marshall is. Two tables away, his gaze locks on mine. My heart flutters a touch as he offers me a small smile. As usual, timing is a foe. Here I am, walking out with Galen, wanting to walk out with another. I guess I’ll have to slake my needs in either the shower alone or in the city. I’m leaning towards city antics. I’m sure there’s somewhere confidential and obscure for someone like me.

  With his rendition of the Texas two-step, we traverse the short walk from the conference room to the elevators. As the doors open, I ask, “What floor, Galen?”

  “Four forty-three.”

  Leaning him up on the wall, I select the button and venture a look at my watch. Shit, it’s early. Dammit, it’s only nine. For sure, after I get Galen settled I’ll head out. It’s been quite some time since I had freedom to roam New York without a limo, chaperone, or Carli. After taking the job, the craziness surrounding King Crown’s death at Indy, and his funeral, everything has been quite busy at the office. Losing Carli didn’t assist me any either. Now I’m left without a moment of time for myself. Heck, it’s been weeks since I’d had a man in my arms. I miss it.

  I’ve been an unsolicited celibate.

  That’s exactly what I need.

  Not wanting to think on it too much while I help Galen to his room—mainly because it would seem a tad awkward to have a hard-on while assisting a drunk straight man to his room—I curb my thoughts for the moment. After he’s settled, I’ll venture down to the front desk and ask where there is to go.

  Chris

  “You good now?” I ask as I assist Galen through the door. It took him five tries on the keycard, and the stubborn fool wouldn’t let me help.

  He peels his tie off. “You know, you’re a really big black guy.”

  “Yeah.” Not the first, and definitely not going to be the last time I’m told that.

  Wobbling around the room as he tries to get to bed, popping buttons at the same time, Galen turns until his butt hits the mattress. “The women must lay at your feet.”

  Bending over to reach his shoes, he falls flat on his face. The floor of the room vibrates as he growls out, “That hurt.”

  Oh my God. Really?

  “You sure you’re okay, Galen?”

  Pushing out a heavy breath, I step into the room. “Hang on,” I snicker, pulling on his shoulders to flip him to his ass again.

  With a sick, silly laugh, he says, “Shit, man. I fell.”

  “Yeah, buddy. You did.” Lifting him off the floor with my arms around his thick weight, he rises.

  “Thanks so much, Chris. You really helped me out tonight.”

  Making sure he won’t fall off again, I lay him back on the bed, then remove his scuffed black Oxfords. Placing them beside the bed, I pull the cover over him when he groans.

  “The pillows here are so soft, honey,” he murmurs into the pillow, curling up around it.

  “Night, Galen.”

  As I step close to the door, he calls out, “Chris?”

  I turn the knob, letting the light from the hall in. “Yeah?”

  “You know, Bullet was wrong.”

  Confused about what he means, I ask, “Wrong about what, Galen?”

  But he never answers.

  As I’m closing the door, a loud snore erupts from the room.

  Chris

  Entering the busy lobby, there’s a line at the customer service area—three wide per line. I don’t have the patience for that tonight, not after everything. Starting for the door, hoping I can find something to do in the area, I’m almost out when I hear, “Did you need something, Mr. Rock?”

  Turning, I find a staff member greeting me with a brilliant smile, bright face, and gorgeous blue eyes. Je-sus!

  “Yeah. It’s been a rough day in the conference.” I grimace. “I need to get out of here for some fun.”

  “And what would be listed in that?” He’s not sarcastic about his question, and it’s not said with anything other than helpful intentions.

  “A club.”

  A light, almost giddy look crosses his face as he asks, “What kind of club? Dance? Book? A social club?” Giggling in a manly way, he adds, “How about a five iron?”

  Funny.

  “No. Not a golf club.” I blow out an exasperated breath. “An adult club.”

  “Strippers?”

  “No. Decidedly not.”

  He grins. “So, you need a woman to slake a bad mood?”

  Looking at him, unsure of how to state what I want without saying it out loud, I say quietly, “Decidedly not.”

  “Well then, I know the perfect place.” Moving towards the door, he raises his hand over his shoulder, motioning me with a finger wiggle to follow.

  Fine.

  Stepping up behind him, I check out the view. Other than those piercing eyes, his body is contained and lovely. His pants are tight in just the right places, showing his shapely legs that beautifully end at an ass that could hold a quarter as he walks. His hips are made for gripping.

  I train my eyes to the floor. “Too much to drink tonight…too much to drink,” I grumble as I step up to the revolving door that leads outside.

  It seems I mumble a lot when I’ve been drinking.

  Hailing a cab with a quick whistle, I pop out of the tight space. Revolving doors and I are not best friends, it’s a sardine like fit. Stepping out, waiting for the advancing cab on the curb, the man leading turns from me to take a call. “One second, Mr. Rock.”

  I find it rude for him to ask me to follow him then take a call, but he’s offered to find me something to do so I’ll wait as asked.

  Hanging up his short-lived call, he walks back over with a mile wide grin, not to mention the dimples I could eat. “I have the perfect place for you to go. Would you mind if a friend of mine joined you? It’s by invite only, and he’ll be able to get you in without any issues.”

  I find myself interested and scared at the same time.
He has me going someplace, and he’s sending me with a ‘friend.’

  Why am I even considering this? Oh, I know. I need arms around me and a cock pounding into me for a few hours of bliss.

  “How long until your friend is here?” I ask.

  Turning around, the gentleman smiles. “He’s here. Hey, Tyler.”

  I have a bad feeling I know who Tyler is. Looking over my shoulder at the door, it’s the very same Tyler Marshall from today’s conference.

  “Hey, Troy.” Greeting his friend with a double kiss on the cheek, I watch the interaction, slightly jealous.

  “This is Governor Chris Rock. Mr. Rock, this is my friend, Tyler Marshall. I believe you might have met today.” He directs his question at his friend. “Would you mind taking him to Dangereux?”

  The man gives him a deflated look. “I wasn’t planning on going in tonight, Troy. Why don’t you just call Rush? He’d get him added.”

  “Rush is training tonight. Cami is at the bar, but she didn’t answer my text. Please?” he pleads sweetly, flashing those deep set of dimples again.

  I feel I’m being intrusive, so I say, “You know, I can just go someplace else—”

  Waving it off, he cuts in. “No, it’s the right place for you. It’s very discreet. You won’t have any publicity issues. Trust me, Governor.” He opens the door to the taxi. “Tyler has no other plans tonight, do you, Tyler?”

  With a forced smile, he replies, “No. I guess I don’t.”

  Troy claps his hands together. “Perfect. Have a nice time, Governor. Tyler, I’ll see you for brunch, yeah?”

  “You’re paying, Troy,” he states as he steps into the taxi.

  Troy snorts. “Fine, that’s fair.” Motioning for me to enter the proffered car, he winks and says, “Have a great time, you two,” as I move to the door hesitantly.

  Taking a seat and closing the door, I ride off to a club with the man that has captured my attention for the past six hours. I hope this place is worth it, or I’ll be heading back for a long, unsatisfying shower.

  Tyler

  As the taxi heads away from the curb, I think of all the ways I’m about to hate my friend.

  Making my way around the room at the conference, the one table I hadn’t talked to, was the one filled with pistols. Okay, it wasn’t my only reason for avoiding it, but I told myself it was a damn good one.

  After telling the driver where we’re heading, I decide to break the silence. Pulling up my ‘big girl sparkly pants,’ as my friend Julia calls them, I extend a hand. “Hi. I’m, Tyler.”

  “Chris,” he states, reaching for my hand to shake it. His grip is firm, tight, and soft. He moisturizes. For sure, he isn’t a manual labor kind of guy.

  He takes his hand back. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier that your presentation was very informative. And to apologize for the armament kerfuffle.”

  “It was fine. Not the first time I’ve had to deal with antics. Plus, if you think my friend Troy is pushy, he has nothing on his brother and sister-in-law. They can be…” He pauses, then says, “Stressful.”

  “I have one of those too. Carli is a good friend to me, but sassy. She reminded me a few days ago that I needed to “suck up my tiny man balls” and come to this conference.” He air quotes with a grin. “Still not sure if I should thank or hate her for this trip. Guns and political warfare wasn’t on the conference agenda as far as the pamphlet stated.”

  I laugh at his quip. “I think it was slotted between lunch and mid-morning break. They just delayed it slightly.” Trying to not look directly at Chris’s face, I avoid direct contact.

  Troy is such an asshole. The grin on his face when I walked out of the hotel, standing beside the man I’ve watched all day, I felt blindsided. He knew it. The only one oblivious to the hookup is Governor Chris Rock, the man beside me. Thinking of ways to keep the conversation about anything and everything, except for how badly I want to blurt out that he’s beautiful, I talk about our common enemies. The girls. “I have the feeling that your Carli and our Julia would hit it off magically.”

  “Does she tell you the same then?”

  “In a more flamboyant way, yes. But once you’ve seen her strapped nake--” stopping abruptly, I think better on it. Pursing my lips, I know he’ll find out soon enough if she’s at the club tonight. “Never mind that. So, are you going home tomorrow after the morning session like so many others? Or staying until the closeouts Monday?”

  “Not sure. I guess it depends on the needs of the state. If something crazy pops up, I guess I’ll have to leave early. For now though, I had intentions of listening to the speaker tomorrow on infusions and carbon leaching.”

  “Chaz Markson is very well-versed. He’ll be a great speaker.” I don’t want to tell him that Chaz is an arrogant prick that will only care about dollars and cents of the states in his symposium, and that Chris will be ignored. Indiana isn’t nearly large enough to gain his attention. Instead of voicing my opinion, I give him another option. “If you have the chance, check out Stewart Harper’s standardization of landfill burning systems. That’s worth it.”

  “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

  This is not a conversation I thought I’d have. To be honest, I’d avoided any reason to go near his table after the sexy as fuck display earlier. Watching him disarm the other man, and disemboweling that gun in seconds was inspiring. It was hot.

  Talking to everyone and going everywhere but their table, I would glance over every few minutes whether I wanted to or not. I couldn’t avoid him. His name may be like that of the funny man from the Carolina’s, but he’s built like Dwayne Johnson.

  Beautiful.

  I have a soft spot for beautiful, strong arms, tight corded, tense, neck muscles, and thick forearms. Chris has that all wrapped up in erotic dark skin, in an equally decorative tattooed package.

  Except for that—a wedding ring.

  That’s a killer for me. Shifting slightly on the seat, moving towards the window, further from the center, I enact an invisible barrier. I’ve had my share of bad relationships with cheaters, and I consider that ring a showstopper.

  “What’s your wife’s name?” I ask.

  Spinning the ring, but not removing it, he tenses. “Elaine. She’s in Peru at a conference with her daughter.”

  Deciding to see where the conversation goes, I ask, “Not your daughter?”

  Licking his lips, he bites the lower one with a painful twist. “No. My wife and I are in a marriage of arrangement.”

  “Sorry. Not my place to pry.”

  Cracking his knuckles, he shifts nervously. “Don’t worry, you’re not.” Looking over my way, his electric gaze locks on mine as he says, “It’s an appearance life.”

  “Hmm,” is all I can think to utter. I’m unsure what else to say to a revelation like that. How do you say, ‘So you and your wife don’t have sex? And neither of you love each other? Are you into men?’

  Major mood killer for a straight guy. I guess I’ll just have to watch at the club to see if my gaydar is on par. It’s normally broken. I can pick out more men that are straight than the openly available at pride parades. A quick way to have my ass kicked is to falsely ask the orientation of such a pinnacle example of manliness. I wouldn’t fair well if he decided to defend his manhood. Governor Rock may not be able to go toe-to-toe with my friend Rush, but I’m sure he’d get a few good licks in. That means me, a scrawny, never-fought-a-day-in-his-life gentle giant, won’t be able to walk away without scars to my dignity.

  He can obviously hold his own, or at least he knows how to disarm a situation quickly. The way he took that gun apart tells me he’s probably ex-Military of some sort.

  Which just makes him sexier than fuck.

  Still out of range, but hot. Unfortunately, that little ring sitting on his hand makes him unattainable. I’ve promised myself after various failed relationships where my heart was trampled, my ass beat, my soul crushed, and my decision-making paradigm in jeopardy, I’
m now uber selective in my partners. So I avoid that ‘are you gay’ conversation altogether.

  As silence wins out for the next two blocks, and with the traffic finally moving, the taxi closes in on the club.

  As it pulls up to the curb, Chris pulls out the cash faster than I can blink.

  “You weren’t expected to pay after taking me out, were you?” he says with a smile.

  Slightly shocked by the blatant hit-on comment, I respond with, “I’m not taking you out. Troy felt you could appreciate the club and that you needed an in. I can quite easily leave you on the street to head in on my own. Or go home and forget you, Mr. Rock.”

  “Chris. It’s Chris, Tyler.” Taking the change from the driver, he pops the door open with an electric grin.

  “Well, thank you. But I could’ve paid my own way.”

  Stepping out and walking straight to the door with my spine straight and an air of fuck you, I head straight to the bouncer.

  “Charlie,” I greet. “They in tonight?”

  “Came in not long ago, Ty. He took his spar partner to the mat. He’s on a high.” Looking over my shoulder, Charlie narrows his eyes on the man behind me.

  “He with you?”

  Slumping slightly, I have an overwhelming urge to say no. Taking a deep breath, narrowing my gaze and sucking up those tiny man balls of mine, I look behind me. Instantly, I’m shocked by what I see. Grinning, wide—Cheshire wide—showcasing his perfect teeth with a smile that reaches every corner of his face, the Governor steps up to Charlie. “Hi, I’m Chris. Nice to meet you. Tyler was nice enough to direct me here.”