by Clancy Nacht
Lance fisted the pillow under his head, breathing heavily. His opening clenched and opened, like a tiny mouth begging. Elliot leaned down and rolled his tongue over the tight band of muscles. In response, Lance froze, then groaned and melted against the bed.
Elliot pressed kisses around it and then licked his opening again, tasting nothing but skin and smelling Lance’s soap. Being so close to Lance’s core was intoxicating. Elliot kissed his opening, all soft lips and prying tongue, feeling Lance open for him. There was something deliciously wicked about kissing this part of Lance. It was something he’d never considered doing, yet it felt so right to be here, to feel Lance’s wanton body pushing into Elliot, so eager for more.
Elliot pulled Lance’s hips up, aware that he was likely bruising the man now, but he kissed that opening harder, pouring all of his feeling into it, eating him ravenously as Lance moaned and thrashed beneath him.
“Oh, God.” Lance buried his face in the pillow. His knees dug into the mattress, widening his stance to offer himself to Elliot. Elliot grabbed Lance’s cock, felt a smear of precum on the tip as he rubbed the shaft.
Lance’s ass was up, presented so neatly for fucking, but Elliot didn’t want to ruin this moment with his own pleasure. He wanted to see Lance come, wanted to feel him do it, for Lance to know how important he was without any confusion.
Elliot sucked on two of his fingers and then spit on Lance’s hole. He worked his wet fingers inside Lance and curled them, rubbing Lance’s prostate while his other hand milked Lance’s cock.
Lance let out a strangled moan. His thighs tightened and flexed as he rocked between Elliot’s hands. He glanced back at Elliot as if he wasn’t sure if he should wait for Elliot.
Elliot smiled. “Come for me.”
“Oh, God.” Lance looked relieved. His face was blurry with sweat, red with effort. He closed his eyes and faced the pillow. His body worked with rough determination at its goal until he seized up, flexing and spurting into Elliot’s hand, back dripping with sweat, pale and slick, ass clamped tight around Elliot’s fingers, needy like he could suck Elliot inside him.
How warm and snug that would be, a perfect fit every time. Once Lance had shuddered his last and his legs gave out, leaving him loose and boneless against the bed, Elliot slipped his fingers from him and then flopped next to him. His cock was hard, but Elliot didn’t want to fuck Lance or jerk off. He didn’t even take off his clothes but pulled the covers over the both of them as he spooned Lance.
It felt so good to be close like this. Not that it could last. Elliot still had to meet with Corey and talk over the day’s events and what it meant. He wished he could ask Lance to come with him, or better yet, to remain here with him, but that simply wasn’t the world they lived in. He could stay, just until Lance fell asleep.
After half an hour, Elliot thought surely Lance must’ve dozed off and started to slip from the bed.
“Do you know Voelker?”
Elliot froze, surprised that Lance had spoken, but then confused by what he’d asked. The name sounded familiar, but for a moment he couldn’t place it. “Isn’t that a road?”
“Hm. What about Michael Rios?” Lance turned around and scanned Elliot’s face.
What he was looking for, Elliot couldn't fathom. He felt like the name was something that Lance expected him to know, but Elliot had no clue who that was. “I’m sorry. Is that an intern? Should I know him?”
Lance cupped Elliot’s face, wearing a strange expression, and then he smiled and shook his head. “No. Just someone I thought we had in common.”
“Did he hurt you? Was he the one who…” Elliot’s rage surged anew. He could track down Michael Rios. Corey knew someone; he kept a man on retainer. Elliot had never before thought seriously of taking someone out, but for the one who grabbed Lance that way… Elliot would consider it.
“No, no. He’s dead.” Lance’s brow furrowed in consternation.
What did that mean? The emotional roller coaster left him on edge. “I’m sorry. Were you close?”
“No. Not really.” Lance exhaled and smiled at Elliot. “I should let you go.”
“Never let me go, Lance.” Elliot stroked Lance’s hair. “I can stay. We can order room service. It’s dinner time.”
“Yeah?” Lance’s smile was so sweet and open that it nearly broke Elliot’s heart.
“Yeah. I just need to debrief with Corey about our afternoon; that can wait.” Elliot reached over Lance for the hotel menu in the nightstand.
“How did it go?” Lance rolled onto his back and snuggled in to read the menu with Elliot.
“Missed you, but it was great, I think. You can come and hear about it after dinner if you’re up for it. It would be good to get your impressions.” Elliot flipped the menu to dinner and read the choices while Lance stroked his abdomen.
“I’d like that.”
Chapter Eight
Lance woke to the scent of coffee, confusing because he was presumably alone in his hotel room. Without him running the room’s cheap coffee maker with the prefab dry grounds, he shouldn’t have coffee. Plus, he would’ve heard the maker burbling in its sturdy, overkill way. He must not be alone.
Tensing, Lance prepared to roll over and launch an assault on the intruder.
“You have one of those difficult passwords to crack, don’t you?” Guy sounded pouty rather than angry.
Lance sighed and rolled over to see Guy sitting at his laptop frowning at the password screen. “I work in tech.”
The night before was clear to Lance; he hadn’t gotten drunk after discussing poll results with Elliot and Corey, though they’d had celebratory drinks at how well Elliot was doing personally in spite of numbers that highly disapproved of the positions he took. They’d gotten wind of the rumor that Gilbert would pull out gracefully after the South Carolina primary, and today’s task for Lance was to go through a stack of potential running mates for Elliot with an eye to optics.
Investigative and deep oppo research would be undertaken on the handful of candidates that Lance, with Jeff’s assistance, would pick out. None of that explained Guy’s presence, unless he was early to collect the names, but Lance didn’t think so.
“I feel like if I knew you better I could crack this.” Guy took a jump drive from his pocket and inserted it into the USB port. “Online, your life’s an open book. Lance Gatsby, graduate of the University of Texas. Swimming. Decent grades, nothing exceptional. Nothing that would explain why anyone would want to kidnap you or how you’d be able to defend yourself against people who aimed to. You don’t add up, Kitten.”
“And you think that someone wily enough to fake an entire presence online with a deep, dark secret life would have an easily crackable password?” Lance sat up and reached from the bed to snatch Guy’s coffee.
“That part adds up, yes.” Guy tilted his head and smirked as he held keys down to reboot Lance’s computer from the USB.
Lance raised a brow and sniffed the coffee, then sipped it. “You also believe someone with that many secrets would store them all on an easily portable electronic device?”
“You’d be surprised what overconfident people do.” Guy watched as the boot from USB failed. He frowned and tried it again.
“I mentioned working in tech, right? Surely you know about Talia and what she can do. Were I you, I’d toss that USB. Or only put it into a computer you want destroyed.” Lance took another sip of coffee. “You got my order spot on. I give you that.”
Guy exhaled, pulled the USB drive from Lance’s computer, and pocketed it. “Who are you, Lance Gatsby? Don’t tell me you’re some sort of kickboxing champion.”
“I’m not some sort of kickboxing champion.” Lance swigged the coffee and slipped from the bed. “I need a shower.”
Guy stood and blocked Lance’s progress to the bathroom. “You need to tell me what’s going on. You’re clearly in over your head, and I’m not sure you realize it.”
Lance frowned. If there was one thing
he was well aware of, it was how in over his head he was. If he thought it would help him any, he’d talk to Guy about how upset he was to be almost kidnapped by the flunkies of a man Lance thought he’d put behind him eleven years ago. “It won’t affect Elliot. You’re security for him, right? I’m outside of your purview.”
“Actually…” Guy leaned against the wall, looking louche and blocking Lance’s way. “I got a call last night from your so-called boyfriend. Seems Corey’s been sharing me around, so now I’m Elliot’s guy, and he’s worried about you and your… mugging.”
Lance closed his eyes and controlled his breathing. It was sweet Elliot was concerned, but he hated that Elliot had gotten his hands dirty. “Does he know you’re watching him?”
“Don’t know. We didn’t discuss that.”
“Isn’t that much to take on? Watching us both?”
“Considering how much time you spend together, not really.”
Lance eyed Guy, scanning his face for the bitterness evident in Guy’s tone. He seemed better at keeping his expression neutral than his voice. “Did you tell him that you saw it happen?”
Guy folded his arms. “That would’ve been difficult to explain.”
That was a relief, at least. Elliot was already so alarmed about Lance getting mugged. If he knew it had been an attempted kidnapping… Lance couldn’t imagine the fuss that Elliot would kick up, not to mention that he’d lose focus. “It was a one-time situation. It’s under control.”
“Under control? What is going on, Lance?” Guy grabbed Lance by the shoulders and got in his face. “You need to trust me.”
Lance brushed Guy’s hands away with a quick twitch of his shoulders and a swing of his arm. “Trust you? I don’t even know your name, Guy.”
“You don’t need to know my name. It doesn’t mean anything.” Guy grabbed Lance’s arm, and in one smooth motion he’d twisted it behind Lance’s back and pressed him facefirst against the wall. His breath was heavy on Lance’s cheek. “I could force the truth out of you.”
“You could try.” Lance clenched his teeth, hating himself for snapping back so thoughtlessly. “You don’t need to know what that was about. It doesn’t mean anything to you or to this campaign.”
“But it might have something to do with Michael Rios. Remember him? You cared so much about him and his life.”
Lance pressed his cheek hard against the wall and considered their positions. Guy wasn’t new, and he was a professional. He wouldn’t be as easy to throw off balance as a regular person who believed they had leverage this way. Not to mention that if Lance did pull off such a neat trick it would only make Guy more suspicious.
Though it was against Lance’s nature and training, he allowed his body to surrender.
The truth was, he’d spent hours the day before going over whether that man who’d sent the kidnappers could have had anything to do with Rios’s murder. Lance couldn’t imagine why he would. It wasn’t as if That Man had ever concerned himself with Lance’s personal affairs before, especially not of the one-night variety. However, he did have the connections and resources to pull off a murder and cover up.
But he’d never do that without a reason, and as Lance couldn’t imagine one, he’d put it out of his mind.
“It’s not connected.”
“How do you know?” Guy released Lance.
“Because that… attack… was gambling debts.” Lance made a mental note to get Talia to work up some past gambling issues, something that could be easily concealed later.
“Gambling.” Guy staggered back against the wall, his expression for once unguarded. Disbelieving. “Gambling? No. You were vetted.”
“I told you: I work in tech. I kept it hidden.” Lance steeled himself to speak with conviction, though he was pretty sure Guy wasn’t buying it.
He was tempted to tell Guy everything, to break down and confess how afraid he was, but most people like Guy knew That Man and worked for him at least on some level. To confess would risk exposure. All Lance could hope for was that if Guy figured out the connection and Lance had a bounty, maybe Guy liked him enough not to sell him out.
Given that Guy didn’t feel enough for Lance to even share his real name, Lance wasn’t counting on it.
He cursed himself for his hubris. His name change and staying out of shark infested waters had kept him from That Man all this time. He’d gritted his teeth at the scandal, hoping the picture was grainy enough, that That Man didn’t pay attention to political news… That it had been long enough he wouldn’t care about Lance anymore.
Now Lance was stuck, uncertain if he should go more public—so that he’d be harder to disappear—or if he should start over again, a new name, a new city. Talia would help.
But Elliot.
And a little part of Lance wondered if he’d see Guy again.
No. He needed to stamp that out. People like Guy weren’t to be trusted. If Lance went to so much trouble to lose himself and Guy were to show up, it would portend nothing good.
Guy gazed at him, his eyes intense, like he was reading Lance’s thoughts. His jaw was tight, and when his hands came up, Lance fully expected to be throttled, but Guy cupped Lance’s cheeks and pressed their foreheads together. “Please don’t lie to me, Kitten. Not to me. You’re not a gambler.”
Lance inhaled suddenly at the closeness of their contact, at the warmth of Guy’s body against his. Here they were again, on the verge of connecting.
What was it about bad boys? And not just an ordinary bad boy, but the worst. A murderer, a professional traitor.
Yet, Lance couldn’t help himself. He brought up his hands and pressed his fingers against Guy’s carotid artery to feel Guy’s pulse racing just as fast as Lance’s was. Maybe Guy was faking the affection, but he wasn’t faking this.
Parting his lips, Lance pressed in to find Guy’s open mouth, welcoming, searching like a lover’s. Lance whimpered into the kiss and pulled him closer. His mind rebelled against his actions, reminding him of Elliot, how sweet he’d been last night, how he wasn’t to blame for what happened to Michael. But something about Guy felt inevitable.
Guy boosted Lance up the wall and pulled his legs tight around Guy’s waist. His hands roamed over Lance’s mostly naked body, teasing around the lines of his underwear as their bodies rubbed together.
Lance combed his fingers through Guy’s silky hair, gasping for breath at the assault on his senses. He couldn’t remember now what they’d been talking about. He wanted to feel more of Guy, to lose himself in this passion, to forget himself, forget the campaign and Elliot and the insane direction that his life was taking.
As Guy grabbed Lance’s ass and turned toward the bed, there was a knock at the door.
The spell was broken. Lance looked into Guy’s wide, dark eyes. He looked just as surprised to find himself in this position as Lance was. They breathed heavily against each other’s faces as the knock came again.
Lance desperately wanted to ignore it, to continue with Guy, but already Guy was disengaging, gently letting Lance down as he scanned the room, for what Lance had no idea. Maybe where they’d both left their sanity.
With his feet on the floor, Lance was better able to gather his wits about him. He eyed the door and groaned as he realized. “Jeff.”
Guy nodded and ruffled Lance’s hair. “You slept in.”
Lance rubbed his lips, pretty sure they were bright red and swollen. That was going to be difficult to explain, not to mention a whole other human being standing there. “And you’re a guy from Grindr?”
“I’m not here.” Guy herded Lance into the bathroom. “Brush your teeth. You didn’t hear the door.”
“What about you?” Lance looked at his reflection. His lips weren’t that bad. He was very flushed, though, and his erection distended his underwear.
“Closet. I’ll get out when I can.”
At Lance’s dubious expression, Guy smirked. “Sneaking around is kind of my thing, Kitten.”
In th
e mirror, Guy scanned Lance’s body, then grabbed the bathrobe and helped Lance into it. “Probably don’t want to greet Jeff with your morning glory. He’ll get ideas he’s not ready to deal with.”
Lance rolled his eyes as he grabbed his toothbrush. “You worried you’ll wind up with company in that closet?”
Guy’s grin widened briefly as he shook his head. “You are so much trouble. I should run.”
“I was thinking the same thing about you.” Lance gazed at Guy, tempted in that moment to tell him everything, to spill his guts like he had about Rios. It would feel so good to unburden himself to someone, but then he remembered the absolute power that would give Guy over him. All Lance really knew about Guy was that he was a good kisser and a freelance bad guy.
The persistent knock on the door followed up with the phone buzzing in the other room. Lance came back to reality. Guy kissed his cheek and slipped away. Fuck.
Lance brushed his teeth quickly and answered the door before Jeff could cause any more of a ruckus. All Lance needed was for Jeff to call Elliot and have security show up.
“Sorry, Jeff. I overslept.” Lance tightened his robe after he’d opened the door because Jeff was already leering at what little of his chest was revealed.
Jeff shrugged. “I was a little early, but then I thought maybe plans changed and you were meeting with the senator or something.”
Lance stepped aside to let Jeff in, then remembered that he’d had the coffee cup, which would be difficult to explain if Lance had been in the room all morning with no one around. But as he scanned the room, he saw that Guy must have also realized it and done away with it. Lance exhaled, releasing some of the tension. Guy was as good as advertised.
“No, no change. Just running late.”
“Go ahead and grab a shower. I’ll get set up.” Jeff shifted his laptop bag in front of him as he gazed around the room, probably wondering where to sit.