by Leah Blake
Trevor widened Marcus’s stance and wedged a leg between his own. He wrapped an arm around his chest and pulled his back flush to Trevor’s front, lodging his cock deep inside Marcus’s body. His other hand wrapped around Marcus’s penis, driving him insane with the overwhelming sensations. His skin burned where Trevor touched him.
“Easy, Marcus. I so enjoy watching you let go.” Trevor’s breath was obscured by the water mist splashing off Marcus’s body, but his lips caressing his earlobe wasn’t, and it felt so nice. Trevor’s timid little nips along the shell of his ear sent jolts of delight along every nerve pathway. He shivered, he trembled, he had goose bumps up and down his arms.
Trevor set himself in motion. His roughened palm and fingers left Marcus breathless as his fist moved fluidly from the hilt of his cock to the tip and back. Trevor’s thumb circled his tip each time he reached Marcus’s head and dragged along the vein on the underside of his shaft as his fist reached the wet hairs around the base.
The man kept a smooth and steady rhythm, filling his ass with the thickness of his cock and driving him mad with the tight fist jerking him off.
“Damn, boy,” Marcus gasped, shuddering against the taunting curl of Trevor’s tongue along his ear. The fiery plume expanded in his sac, consuming everything in its path. “Shit, Trev. I’m going to come.” He closed his eyes, gripping Trevor’s arm and hair with his hands. He threw his head back against the man’s shoulder. “Yes, fuck yes!”
Pleasure so intense speared up from his balls, shooting out in every direction and splitting him apart. He roared his delight, holding tight to Trevor as the man milked each fierce jet of cum from his dick propelled by each strike against his gland.
“Marcus, love.” Trevor groaned against his ear. He gave to Marcus and took from Marcus, finding his own release in the thralls of Marcus’s body-shattering orgasm.
They stumbled forward as one unit, finding support against the shower wall. Trevor encompassed Marcus, his harsh breaths hitting the side of his face. Marcus soaked in the aftermath of his release, the minor quivers that skated along his muscles that mimicked those he felt in Trevor.
“Let’s wash up,” Marcus finally said, not trusting his voice any higher than a whisper. “And get to bed.”
“Yes.” Trevor nodded against his shoulder. “Yes, where we can hold each other again.”
Chapter Nine
The unusual ring drew Trevor from the sweet dream involving Marcus. The ever-blowing warm breeze flowed over his exposed chest. He rubbed his eyes and squinted against the bright morning sun pouring through the open French doors. The white curtains swayed in an elegant dance that framed the paradise beyond.
He propped himself up on his elbows, blinking the sleep away. He spotted Marcus standing on the balcony, leaning against the far railing with a cup of coffee. His phone was tucked against his ear. He wore nothing but a pair of loose, white linen pants.
Trevor sat up, leaning to his right to get a better view of his lover without the gauzy curtain obstruction. The sparkling clear-blue waters of the Caribbean laid a peaceful backdrop, lined with the lush green foliage and thick palm fronds. Two enormous charter yachts were parked on either side of a wide dock, two smaller yachts on a separate dock.
Trevor’s fingers itched for a paintbrush to capture Marcus’s profile against the majestic backdrop. His supplies were in the bag…
“Oh shit,” he grumbled, rubbing his hands over his face. “Damn brushes will be no good.”
He had been so caught up with Marcus, he never cleaned his brushes from the night before. The bristles would surely be caked and unsalvageable. He had one backup set, a pricey set Marcus had bought for him as a housewarming gift when they moved in together.
Marcus cast a glance to the apartment, his gaze meeting Trevor. The man straightened up, that serene calm Trevor noted only moments before dissipating as he started across the balcony. He ended his call and dropped the phone on the lounge chair outside the doors.
“Good morning,” Marcus greeted. Trevor smiled, loving how bright his lover’s blue eyes were. He wore a small grin, one that hinted to his contentment without taking the mischievous edge out of his expression. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
“How was your night?” Marcus asked, heading to the kitchen. “Sleep well?”
Truth be told, he hadn’t slept so good since he was last in Marcus’s arms.
He stretching his arms over his head and leaned from one side to the other. “Wonderful.”
Trevor whipped back the satin sheet and cl out of bed, surprised by the faint soreness that touched his legs. He’d suffer through a hundred times the soreness if it meant staying with Marcus, but despite their spoken desires during their passionate interludes, Trevor knew that a life with Marcus was almost impossible. They came from two separate worlds, two completely different lives.
Don’t dwell on it now. You’ve got one more night with him.
With that in mind, Trevor washed up in the bathroom, rinsed out his mouth, and met Marcus in the kitchen. The man was back on his phone, his expression closed. He didn’t even look in Trevor’s direction, sipping his coffee, listening to the caller with barely a response. Trevor tried the lightened brew Marcus had prepared, pleased that his lover remembered how he liked his morning java.
“We’ll look over the spreadsheet first thing Monday morning,” Marcus said, looking into his coffee mug. “That’s fine. I’ll get a head start on it today. E-mail me the numbers.”
Trevor’s excitement dulled a bit. Marcus was a busy man, always had been. Partnering up with his brothers to take over their father’s exceptionally successful financial institution, and now Sinn Island on top of that, Trevor began to wonder if his lover would ever have time to dedicate to another.
Trevor left Marcus to his phone call, grabbing up his jeans from the sitting room and slipping them on. He went onto the balcony and took up a seat in one of the lounge chairs, basking in the warm rays of sunlight and the afterglow of his night with his lover.
Marcus joined him a few minutes later, taking a seat on the empty chair. “Sorry about that.”
“Business on Saturday?”
“Business every day.”
“Do you ever take time for yourself, Marc?” Trevor asked, holding the lip of the mug at his mouth. “You rarely did when we were together.”
“Rarely do now.”
Sad reality. Marcus worked hard for his privileged life, as did his brothers. They were a different breed of sickly wealthy. They partied and splurged, but didn’t take for granted what was handed to them.
“Your business owns you, Marcus.”
Marcus nodded once, leaning back in the chair. He perched a foot on the soft cushion, gazing out into the distance. “Are you returning to Oregon tomorrow?”
Trevor dismissed the sudden change of topic. “Yeah. Work on Monday.”
“Alex and Julian are at Sunrise. They’re expecting us.” Marcus reached across the space between the chairs and slipped his fingers between Trevor’s. “After breakfast, I can give you a tour of Sinn. You can paint while I take care of this fuckup at work.”
“Sounds like you’ll have your hands full for more than a few hours.”
“One of our brokers has accounts that aren’t adding up. We’ve been keeping close tabs on him for a few weeks, ever since one of his clients called in with a concern about his investments. I’ve been tracking the transactions and implemented a quiet investigation into the broker. We notified authorities so when it goes to court, Stark and Sons as a whole won’t be the bad guys. It’s not the first time some greedy bastard tries to make a few simple bucks, and certainly won’t be the last.”
Trevor watched Marcus bring his fingers to his mouth and press soft kisses to each tip. The impending situation Marcus had to handle was definitely weighing on the man’s shoulders, but he did his best to hide it from Trevor.
“Marcus?”
His lover lowered their hands and turn
ed those dark blue eyes on him. “Yes?”
“May I have the collar back and resume my role in our agreement?” Trevor watched the subtle lines of tension in the man’s handsome face relax. A smile curled at his lips. “Now that I know you were my Master.”
Marcus rolled off the chair and braced his arms on either side of Trevor’s hips. His openmouthed kiss was possessive and deep, hints of the strong island coffee and sugar filling him. He wedged a knee between Trevor’s legs, and Trevor stiffened when his hand rubbed his dick through his jeans.
Marcus pulled back, tugging at Trevor’s lower lip. A light flush touched the man’s angular cheeks, his lips moist. Trevor sank back into the chair, gripping his coffee mug with one hand, the arm of the chair with the other. He rocked against Marcus’s rough strokes.
“You resumed your role in our agreement last night,” Marcus said, his voice husky and rich. “As for the collar, I’ll have it waiting for you this afternoon at Breakers.”
Marcus gave Trevor’s dick a firm squeeze. He winked and cl to his feet. Trevor groaned, the hot ache in his pants burning through every tissue buffer he had. Christ, was Marcus really going to leave him like this?
“Time to go. Breakfast is waiting.”
“Really?” Trevor sat up, the pulse in his cock echoing in his ears. “Just like that?”
“Don’t relieve yourself, pet. I want you so fucking hard later that it breaks you.” Marcus adjusted his own cock. At least Trevor wasn’t going to suffer alone. Marcus leaned close to his ear and whispered, “And this won’t be the only time I play with your dick today. It’ll be hard until I give you permission to do something about it.”
Chapter Ten
“Received a call from Diaz. They have a warrant for Johnson’s arrest,” Julian said, settling down in the chair adjacent to Marcus. His sharp blue eyes flew over the pages Marcus laid out for both Julian and Alex to see.
“When do they plan to move in?” Marcus asked.
“They want him in custody tonight.”
Marcus glanced at his watch. It was closing in on four thirty Eastern time, one thirty Pacific. He groaned, running his fingers through his hair and grasping it in fists at the nape of his neck. The Feds couldn’t wait until Monday? They had to make an arrest today?
You wanted this guy behind bars ASAP on Thursday, Marc. Business first.
Damn his fucking conscience and all that fucking logic. He wanted to stay here, enjoy his last night with Trevor and see what tomorrow would bring.
His cell phone jingled. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as he answered the call and brought the phone to his ear. “Marcus speaking.”
“Mr. Stark, my apologies for bothering you. I spoke with Julian a short time ago. I’m going to need to meet with you this evening in regards to Mr. Johnson,” FBI agent Robert Diaz said solemnly. “We have warrant in hand and we’ll be bringing him in as soon as I get my team together.”
Marcus bit his tongue, and his desire to ask if tomorrow could work. Damn, he couldn’t jeopardize this case. He was the lead internal informant. He wanted Johnson out of the company. He wanted the prick to be humiliated and pay for the bad business he conducted. As it was, Marcus and his brothers have already filled in the financial gaps in Johnson’s clients’ portfolios, mounting up to almost ninety thousand dollars.
One thing he and his brothers thrived on was honesty, and no one would allow Stark and Son’s customers to suffer at the hands of a bad broker.
“The earliest I can get to your headquarters is nine this evening, give or take with delays,” Marcus said. Julian arched a brow and sipped his whiskey. Sure, his voice was heavy with disappointment. He did well to hide his frustration. “I have a few things to tie up here and I can leave shortly after. In the meantime, I’m going to e-mail you with the latest reports generated on Johnson’s accounts that I received this morning.”
“That will be appreciated. I can have a car waiting for your arrival.”
“I’ll call you when we’re descending into San Francisco Airport.”
“In the meantime, I’ll be waiting for your e-mail.”
Marcus ended the call and fell back into the chair. Fuck me. How the hell was he going to tell Trevor that he had to leave? Only this morning did Trevor point out the blatant fact that his business owned him. The truth stung, sure, but this was his life. He and his brothers were handed down a multibillion-dollar company. For five years, Marcus knew little outside of working hard and the occasional party hard evening that stoked the tabloid’s appetite for gossip.
“Would you like me to tell Trevor?” Julian asked.
“No.” Marcus sighed, his eyes landing on the empty chair where Alex would be sitting shortly. “I’m perfectly capable of telling him myself.” After another long silence, Marcus flipped open his laptop and pulled up his email account. Time to get the ball rolling. “Not sure he’ll understand.”
“Well, if you ask me, he might very well understand. After all, he left you without the courtesy of an explanation.” Ice clinked in Julian’s glass as he took another sip of whiskey. Marcus fought to keep his eyes on the computer screen and his fingers rushed over the keyboard to deliver the documents to Diaz. He didn’t need his older brother reminding him of his failed relationship. “Would you like to take Alex with you? I can manage Sinn for one night.”
That piqued Marcus’s curiosity. He sent the e-mail, all documents attached, to Diaz, folded his lap top, and looked at Jules.
“You seem quite blasé about staying here solo.”
Julian shrugged. “I’m giving you an option that might soothe the sting of your abrupt parting with Trevor.”
“How is that?”
“Taking your brother, and business partner, with you.” Julian rested the crystal glass on a marble coaster and steepled his fingers under his chin. “Besides, Alex has been contributing to the Johnson case.”
“I’ve been the one tracking the accounts and moving money from Stark into our clients’ portfolios to keep business steady while he was investigated.” Marcus shook his head. “No. I’ll go alone but will keep you informed.”
Marcus pushed to his feet, gathered the papers and his laptop, and nodded in a mock bow.
“Brother, next weekend will be far less stressful,” Julian said. Marcus swallowed back a scowl. For Trevor, there will be no next weekend. Marcus already contacted their accountant to make sure Trevor was reimbursed for his expenses to Sinn. He would have to pull Trevor’s address from the registration files and hopefully—please God—Trevor could forgive him for his last minute abandonment.
“Next weekend is four workdays away, Jules. Plenty of time to complicate matters.” Marcus left the office, and Breakers, and immediately headed back to his apartment.
The last place he would’ve looked for Trevor was the first place he stopped. The man sat on the balcony with a large sketchpad and an array of pencils. Keeping quiet, Marcus crossed the room and hovered by the open French doors, admiring the shaded piece of art that Trevor brought closer to life with each stroke. His hair ruffled in the breeze, the waves glowing beneath the golden sunlight. Marcus never wanted this weekend to end. Standing here, observing the peace and serenity Trevor basked in, he heard the silent mocking of this entire situation.
Trevor came searching for him, and this time, Marcus would be the one leaving. Would another five years pass before one of them searched out the other in hopes of rekindling their repeatedly failed attempts at a relationship?
Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.
Marcus knocked on the glass pane to announce his presence. Trevor jerked, yanking the pencil from the sketchpad and twisting around. He flashed Marcus a huge, white-tooth smile that warmed his heart and just as quickly tore it to shreds.
Trevor must have sensed his turmoil. The man’s smile waned and he lowered the sketchpad to the seat beside him.
“Everything okay?” he asked, standing up and meeting Marcus at the door. Marcus cupped t
he back of Trevor’s hand as his lover molded his palm and fingers against the side of his face. “Did something happen with that guy you were talking about this morning?”
“Yes.”
“Shit. Bad?”
Marcus turned his gaze to Trevor’s. “Depends on what angle you look at it.” With a sigh, Marcus eased Trevor’s hand away. “I have to leave. The Feds are taking in the broker and the lead agent is asking to meet with me.”
Trevor stared at him, unblinking. His lips remained closed, his expression unreadable. Marcus lifted his chin and tried to save himself from as much suffering as possible.
“I’ve arranged for you to remain in my apartment until you depart tomorrow. My private yacht will bring you to the airstrip on the main island. Jules and Alex will accompany you back to your home on our jet.”
Trevor nodded slowly, a faint crease forming over his right brow. He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and turned, crossing the balcony to the railing. “When are you leaving?”
“As soon as I pack.”
Marcus felt the sting of pain that radiated off Trevor. He couldn’t blame him. He was feeling that same hurt and disappointment. He was hoping to make their last night on Sinn their most memorable.
Well, he was sure making it fucking memorable. You fucking bastard, Johnson.
“Why do they need to meet with you tonight?” Trevor asked, his voice drifting on the breeze.
“I have all the documentation at my office. They’ll need full access to it, and I don’t intend on withholding evidence. I’ve helped them get this guy. I don’t want his dishonest practice to sully the business my brothers and I have built up.” Marcus regretted the edge in his voice, but his time was limited. The longer he stood here looking at Trevor’s back, the more he wanted to call him over and throw him into the bed. Clearing his throat, he added, “I’ll be in touch with you, if that’s all right.”