by K. Sterling
“I’ll do what I can. Are you ok?”
“I’m fine, a bit tired all of a sudden,” Roman murmured as he swiped at his phone and Quinn got the impression he was avoiding Mr. Bishop. “Actually,” he said as his head swung toward Quinn. “Would you mind if we did a quick lap, found Darius’ vase then pretended to get a little carried away with each other and left early? I’m going to have to call it an early night.” He pushed his lip out and his eyes became huge and Quinn was a little dizzy as he nodded.
“No problem,” he mumbled. “I could use an early night,” he added and was a little excited about going to bed long enough before sunrise to feel rested. Not being hungover for the first part of his morning would be refreshing. He was more excited about that than the auction and Darius’ vase. “You’re sure there’s nothing wrong?”
“Nothing an early night and a little rest won’t fix,” Roman reassured him but Quinn wasn’t excited about the slight sinking feeling or the tightness in his shoulders. “Quinn?”
“Yeah?” He asked and looked down as Roman’s fingers caressed the back of his hand.
“I’m very sorry,” Roman murmured. “But I’m looking forward to tomorrow night,” he said as his hand turned around Quinn’s. Their fingers curled around each other and Roman raised Quinn’s hand and pulled it to his lips. The car stopped and Roman trapped Quinn with his eyes again as Mr. Bishop stepped out and went to Roman’s door. Quinn followed as Roman’s finger pressed against the underside of his chin and his lips were pulled closer. They kissed as Mr. Bishop opened the door and Quinn angled his head and nearly gave into the drugging slide of Roman’s tongue against his then noticed people staring into the car as they passed. He raised his head and the color drained from his face. They were in front of Sotheby’s, on Bond Street. Roman groaned in disappointment as he released him and tugged at his lapels. “I’m even more sorry,” he said then offered Quinn a drowsy grin. “I can’t wait for tomorrow night,” he added then slid him a wink before he got out. Quinn leaned and stared after him and wondered why Roman was so excited about the house party until he remembered what Roman usually did at the house party.
“Oh… Shit.”
Chapter 8
Roman stepped out of the shop’s doorway as Mr. Bishop stopped around the corner from Quinn’s building. He checked his watch as Mr. Bishop got out to get the door then thanked him as he ducked into his seat.
“Mr. Waverly should be coming down in just a moment,” Roman said then shifted so he looked more settled as Mr. Bishop turned the corner and parked. “He was listening to a recording of Goethe’s Faust as he showered and dressed,” he said as he checked his phone. “It was quite remarkable,” he added absently as he read Darius’ message. Still no sign of Dash and things were quiet around Darlington’s.
“The Faust or Mr. Waverly?” Mr. Bishop asked suggestively and Roman looked up.
“The Faust was, of course, but he was listening to it in German and commenting in German. Er spricht Deutsch,” he said then hummed in approval as Quinn stepped out onto the pavement. He wore a tuxedo quite well. He was a bit stiff and still too aware he was wearing it but he’d get over that quickly. He kept his hair just a touch wild and wavy on top but it was neatly trimmed on the sides. Roman approved. Too much product and effort would have made him look too green. Boys in rental tuxedos and bankers slicked their hair back. He’d cleaned up the edges of his five o’clock shadow and Roman’s tongue already burned in anticipation as he imagined lapping at his jaw. Mr. Bishop got out and went around to get the door for Quinn and Roman planted his elbow on the rest in the center of the seat and hummed happily as he set his chin on his palm. He was truly looking forward to the evening as the door opened and Quinn lowered into the car.
“I’m so bad at this,” Quinn said and held out his tie as Mr. Bishop pulled into traffic.
“Not a problem,” Roman said as he took it and curled his finger, gesturing for him to lean closer. Quinn turned and stretched over the armrest and Roman flipped up his collar and his fingers twisted and tugged swiftly. “There,” he said as he traced Quinn’s jaw and he tensed. Roman glanced at the road ahead. “We’ve only got about fifteen minutes but I want to go over some things.”
“About the party?” Quinn asked and snorted. “I’ve been and I watched it for weeks, I know what goes on in there,” he said and shrugged nonchalantly. Roman grinned as his hand closed on Quinn’s knee and he trembled. Roman clicked his teeth as his fingers swirled over Quinn’s kneecap and it vibrated.
“You’re still skittish and that won’t do,” he warned. “You’ve been but you were just there to score and get fucked last time. Correct?” He asked as his head rolled toward Quinn and he raised a brow. Quinn looked out the window and swallowed hard as he nodded. Roman hummed as he squeezed. “Not this time. You stepped up your game. You threw out your net and caught the prize. You’re wearing a £5,000 pound Gieves & Hawkes tuxedo that should have taken eight weeks but I had an entire wardrobe prepared for you in days. I rarely sleep with the same man twice but I’ve come back after a long absence and decided to focus all my attention and a considerable amount of my money on you,” Roman said as his hand ever so slowly trailed along the inside of Quinn’s thigh. He was still but Roman could feel the tension in the muscle beneath his fingers. “You’re going to have to prove you’re worth it. You have to show me you’re better than all the other boys. You’re going to use every trick you can to keep me ensnared and captivated,” he purred as he traced Quinn’s semi-hard erection through his pants. He was going to have to do better than that. “Use the suit, use your body, use me,” Roman stated then reached and set his hand on Quinn’s. He took it in his and raised it to his lips and kissed it before he placed Quinn’s hand on his only slightly firm cock. “And make it convincing because no one’s going to buy this,” he said and Quinn’s gaze was seeking as it held his.
“Why are you so sure you’re the prize?” He asked as he pulled his hand away and Roman sighed happily as the car came to a stop.
“I hope you’re ready for some stiff competition, Quinn,” he said as the door opened. “Good luck,” Roman added jauntily then stepped out. He waited at the steps as Quinn got out of the Bentley and people were already watching. They began to whisper as Quinn joined him and they climbed the stairs together. It was a mild night and Roman skipped an overcoat so he smiled at the footman as he stepped close to Quinn and rested his hand against his back. The footman bowed his head as they passed and necks craned and people stared as Roman steered Quinn toward the ballroom.
“Roman!” A voice called excitedly. “Roman!” He called again and Roman kept his lips straight as a young man in leather pants and a collar reached for him eagerly. Roman leaned away and gave the boy a bored look.
“Yes?” He asked as Quinn hovered over his shoulder and the boy noticed him.
“Xander!” He said as he pointed at himself and Roman rolled his eyes.
“You’re going to have to give me more,” he said as he swayed toward him. “Do you have any idea how many Xanders I used to go through in a week? Half of you are named fucking Xander,” he stated as he flailed his hand vaguely and Quinn snorted as they started to move on. Xander gave Roman a hopeful look as he stepped in front of him.
“It was last year but you said you had never…”
“I definitely have since,” Roman interrupted him. “Excuse me,” he said then followed Quinn as he found a path to the ballroom. They almost made it before a hand slid over Roman’s shoulder and a body pressed against his back.
“You said I was going to be next and then you never came back,” a warm voice complained at his ear and Quinn’s face was taut and his eyes flashed as he looked behind Roman. What’s this? He wondered then slowly turned and swallowed a laugh as another blond in a very nice tux pouted at Roman. His height and build was similar to Quinn’s and they had almost identical second day beards. He was very high quality and definitely something Roman
would have on his to-do list.
“You made me get out of bed for this, Roman. At least get me something to drink,” Quinn sighed impatiently and Roman’s brows jumped. The other blond’s face fell as he stared at Quinn and Roman shrugged as he backed away from him. He turned and slid a hand around Quinn’s back as he pressed against his side.
“Bossy! I like it!” He whispered excitedly and Quinn grinned as they slipped into the ballroom.
“You aren’t looking for another limp, dead-eyed vacuum cleaner in a suit,” he said. “You want something different,” Quinn reminded him as they made their way around waltzing couples. Hands grabbed at them as they skirted the ballroom and found their way to the bar at the far end of the room. An acquaintance from university watched Roman and Quinn as they reached the bar and waited to get the bartender’s attention. Roman accepted the acquaintance’s nod and didn’t bother remembering his name as he began to scoot his way around. He was a Tory and something boring in finance and married to a shrill princess but Roman couldn’t remember the country. Quinn caught the bartender’s eye first and waved him over.
“We’d like champagne and he’d like a bottle sent to his tent,” he said as he reached for Roman. Quinn leaned back, with his elbow resting on the edge of the counter and pulled Roman to him. “I assume we’ll end up there,” Quinn said so enough people could hear him and Roman purred in anticipation as he stepped into him and brushed his lips against his cheek.
“We may end up there much sooner than we planned. Nobody’s ever tried getting pushy with me, it’s really good,” he murmured against his ear and Quinn hummed in agreement as his arm slid around Roman.
“You’ll have better luck out here, no one can see us in there,” he said.
“We still have to make it convincing,” Roman replied and Quinn tilted his head away lazily, inviting Roman to explore his neck. He couldn’t resist and his teeth dug into Quinn’s throat before he sucked and licked.
“I haven’t seen you in a while, Roman,” the boring Tory said and Roman sighed as he let go of Quinn and turned.
“I took a little time off and reevaluated my interests,” he replied dryly as he reached for his drink.
“Where did you find that? I would have noticed him,” the acquaintance asked as he pointed at Quinn.
“He is quite interesting,” Roman bragged and offered him a large wink.
“Send him my way, when you’re through with him. If he’s that interesting, I’ll take him with me to Milan next month.”
“I’m not sure if I’ll be ready to let him go by then,” Roman speculated then rocked forward conspiratorially. “Hung like a horse and can ride for hours. Speaks German,” he said suggestively and Quinn laughed. It was natural and warm and incredibly alluring.
“Really?” The acquaintance asked as he pulled a card from his pocket then held it out to Roman. Quite properly. It would have been disrespectful to hand it to Quinn directly. “Make sure he calls me first when you’re done,” he said then gave Quinn another lingering look before he patted Roman on the back and moved on. He watched Quinn closely as he held the card out with two fingers. Quinn’s brows pulled together and he looked like he smelled something rotten.
“What am I going to do with that?” He asked then waved it away and took a sip of his champagne. Roman let it drop then slid his arm around his waist. Quinn swayed against him and it was familiar and casual as he offered his lips. Roman groaned as he nibbled.
“You could do very well for yourself. You should consider making this a career,” Roman said. He was thinking very seriously about something longterm himself. He’d have to word any offer very carefully, Quinn was quite proud and had morals and things.
“No thanks. I’m not selling myself or that,” he said. See? Pride and morals. Roman made a dismissive sound as he gave in and rubbed his lips along his jaw.
“We all have sex, Quinn. What’s wrong with getting something out of it, if you’re going to do it anyways?”
“I already get a lot out of sex, especially when I want it. I think selling it would take all the enjoyment out of it,” Quinn said lowly and it wafted against Roman’s ear, making him ache. It was so novel, the idea of having sex with someone who wanted it for the right reasons. Sex was always fun for Roman but would it be more fun if his partner was into it, just because he wanted it? He was a little sad because he realized he’d never truly know with Quinn, as long as his brother was in the picture. Or out of it, rather. Quinn wouldn’t be touching Roman, if he wasn’t in it for his brother. Could he make Quinn want to touch him and be touched by him? Could he make Quinn enjoy it? He watched as Quinn drained his glass then took it from him.
“You might want to reconsider. He’s married to a princess. A good one, I think,” he said as he towed Quinn toward the current of bodies as they revolved around the room to Strauss II.
“I’m not a very strong dancer,” Quinn warned but his arms immediately went to the proper positions and he followed easily as Roman eased them into the flow of dancers.
“Nonsense.You’re doing brilliantly,” Roman said as his hand slid and spread possessively across Quinn’s back.
“I heard there was waltzing so I learned and practiced,” Quinn said under his breath as he relaxed in Roman’s arms and let him pull him through a turn.
“And you learned to follow, instead of lead,” Roman pointed out. “Very smart,” he said and Quinn’s grin was drowsy and teasing as he rested his forehead on Roman’s.
“Different,” Quinn stated then pressed his lips to Roman’s for a clinging kiss and it took his breath away. He was different and remarkable and Roman wanted to make him his and make him laugh but he was afraid their search for Jayce would change him. He didn’t want Quinn to change. Much. His wardrobe… Roman stifled a shiver as his eyes swept the room. He wanted everyone to see them and they were all watching. They were buying it because Quinn was being himself and Roman couldn’t keep his hands off him.
“How do you manage to laugh, even when you’re scared and your heart is breaking?” Roman asked and Quinn smiled. It was easy and a bit like holding a ray of sunlight in his arms as Roman watched a memory drift across Quinn’s eyes.
“Have you ever noticed you don’t feel pain or sadness when you’re laughing?” Quinn asked and Roman nodded but his heart beat heavier as he waited. “If you can find a way to laugh when it hurts the worst, once you’re done laughing, it’s not as bad as it was before and things feel a little lighter. Jayce always says I’m his light, he can always find his way back because he has me so I have to keep laughing.” He winced and shook his head. “And I have to be able to laugh at this or else it would just be kind of terrible,” he added and Roman gasped.
“It’s not all bad and we get to have a lot of fun,” he pointed out.
“My idea of fun is…” Quinn stopped and Roman’s brows rose as he struggled to find an answer. He didn’t know because he could always find something to laugh about but he never had time for fun. Quinn shook his head. “Your idea of fun involves me being penetrated,” he muttered and Roman wished he’d picked a different word as he saw the vibrator in Quinn’s bedside table.
“Would it be so terrible if you enjoyed this? If we sat down to dinner, would you only pretend to eat or would you try to enjoy the meal?”
“I’d eat but that’s not going to make it feel like a real date,” Quinn argued.
“No but the wine could still be very good and the dessert would still taste sweet.”
“Wouldn’t it be just a little sweeter if it was real, though?”
“Some things are sweet no matter what, Quinn.” Roman wound their fingers together then led him off the dance floor, toward the French doors and the terrace. Roman enjoyed the ballroom, it reminded him of the old society balls as men twirled and laughed and discussed the markets and politics. The gardens were a very different matter. The grounds of the property were hidden behind high walls and trees and the neighbor
s politely endured what they assumed were exclusive charity events for the very elite. Men in various costumes and states of undress tangled together in pairs and threesomes along the terrace and on the chairs. Quinn and Roman ignored them as they took the steps to the lower terrace and made their way around a smaller dance floor. There were a few dozen bodies and they were twisting and grinding in a tight cluster as pulsing, electronic music filled the garden.
“I don’t want to go in there,” Quinn said as he clung to Roman’s back.
“I never do but I like to watch for a while,” Roman said then glanced at the bar by the fountain and nodded when the bartender looked at him. He swung his head toward the large ornately carved sofa by the dance floor then pulled Quinn to him so he could waltz him around the dancers. He locked their hips together and swayed but it was harder and faster as he moved with the music. He spun Quinn and released him as a silver champagne bucket was placed on the table in front of the sofa then waved for Quinn to take a seat. Quinn turned and looked at the terraces and the house then around at the gardens as men tackled each other and rolled in the grass and fucked in the trees. Eight private tents dotted the grounds and gondolas drifted across the river at the end of the lawn.
“This is very…exposed.” There was a flash of concern as Quinn glanced at Roman. The sofa was in the center of the action and they would be the center of attention.
“Have a seat,” Roman ordered gently as he filled their glasses. “This is a good place to wait and be seen,” he said and Quinn looked toward Roman’s box. For a brief second he looked almost wary. Roman’s box was closest to the bar and the dance floor and the most coveted. It was reserved in Roman’s name indefinitely but he had a feeling it might be time to let it go. He’d only used it a handful of times in the last several months and he was losing his interest in the parties. An arrangement with Quinn made much more sense. He handed Quinn his glass then scanned the terrace and the garden before he lowered and reclined.