“You’re beautiful.”
Russel hunched his shoulders and shook his head. “I’m fucking gorgeous once I’ve put foundation on with a trowel, but without it… I know I’m no one’s idea of beautiful.”
“You’re my idea of beautiful.” Mac brushed his lips and nose over Russel’s jaw and cheeks.
“You don’t need to lie.”
“I’m not.”
Russel felt tears welling up in his eyes. “I got teased enough as a kid to know that no one finds my scars attractive.”
“Hey.” Mac pressed his hands to Russel’s cheeks. “You’re more than what you look like. You’re funny, intelligent, and fucking sexy. A few scars can’t detract from that. And honestly, I think you see them with different eyes than I do.” He turned Russel around to face the mirror. “They’re really not that bad.”
As far as Russel was concerned, they were. When he looked at his face without make-up on, the tiny little indents in his skin were all he could see.
“Your eyes are the first thing I see,” Mac said. “And then your lips.” He leant round to kiss Russel. “And then your smile.” He kissed Russel again. “And then your heart.” He pressed his hand over Russel’s chest. “Those scars are the last thing I see.”
Russel released the sob he’d furiously been trying to hold. He turned into Mac’s arms and buried his face against the big guy’s chest. “No one’s ever said that before.”
“Then it looks like you’ve had some shitty partners in the past.”
Russel chuckled. “Look at you: throwing my words back at me. Again.”
“What can I say? You talk a lot of sense.” Mac pressed a kiss to the top of Russel’s head. “If wearing make-up gives you confidence, then you should wear it. But don’t put it on because you’re afraid of what I’ll think.”
Russel nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
“I’m going to go back to bed,” Mac said. “Join me?”
“I’ll be there soon.” As much as he wanted to believe Mac’s words, Russel needed the protective armour that make-up gave him. “Oh, shit. What time is it?”
“Around seven. When do you have to be at work?”
“Around nine.”
“That gives us plenty of time, then.”
Russel looked up. “For what?”
“For me to suck you so hard you collapse again. That was fucking hot, by the way.”
Russel laughed. “If I collapse again, there’s no way I’m getting to work on time.”
Mac pouted, which was possibly the most adorable thing ever.
“I’d like to snuggle, though.” Russel looked up at Mac hopefully.
Mac made a murmur of approval in his throat. “Sounds good.”
He stepped around Russel to leave the bathroom, baring his taut arse to him. Russel bit his lip and, unable to resist, smacked his hand across Mac’s left butt cheek, hard enough to leave a white mark on the taut fake-tanned skin.
Mac did an adorable hop and jump before rubbing at his arse. “I thought you just wanted to snuggle?”
Russel shrugged. “I do, but that doesn’t stop me imagining what else I might want to do with you.” He rocked his weight onto his left leg, angling his hips. “But we probably need to have a little chat about that kind of stuff. I’m not into anything too kinky.”
Mac laughed. “Are you worried you might scare me off?”
“Maybe.” Russel wrapped his arms around his skinny body. “Honestly, I’m not even sure what’s going on here. Are we friends with benefits? Or…” His voice trailed off as he dipped his eyes, not really sure what he was hoping for.
“Can’t we just have fun and see what happens?”
Russel nodded. “Of course. Great idea.” He hoped his smile and bright voice masked his disappointment. He pointed to the door. “Now, go get your sexy arse back into bed.”
Mac grinned and saluted, knocking his heels together as he stood to attention. “Yes, Sir.”
And damn, if that didn’t melt Russel’s heart. He kept his smile fixed on Mac’s face until he’d hightailed it out the room. Russel knocked the door shut with his foot and then leant on the sink, staring at his face in the mirror.
“Don’t fall for him. Don’t fall for him. Don’t fall for him.” Maybe if he said it often enough, he’d listen to himself. “You’re not on the same page or even in the same fucking novel.”
It was the best advice he could give himself in that moment. He and Mac were worlds apart, and a couple of satisfying blow jobs did not mean they could make any kind of relationship work. Russel rolled his eyes, realising he was getting ahead of himself. They hadn’t made any kind of commitment to each other, except agreeing to go on pretending to be a couple. Mac had actively avoided the topic of what was happening between them. So yeah, he needed to listen to himself and not fall for the big, hunky guy with wonderful lips and swoon-worthy strong arms, who was lying in his bed. Waiting for him. He let out a long, mournful sigh, knowing it was probably already too late to follow his own advice.
13 Mac
Mac had not been looking forward to spending time with Remy again, but he was determined not to let Russel down. When they arrived, they were shown straight into a lavish dining room, with a huge table with three place settings. Remy was already waiting for them, sitting at the head of the table like the pretentious jerk he was. The other two place settings were on either side of him, putting Mac and Russel opposite each other.
“We’re not late, are we?” Russel pulled a small notebook and pen out of his jacket pocket, right before the butler whisked the jacket away from him.
Mac was sure they hadn’t actually discussed a time to arrive by. This was probably another one of Remy’s games.
“Not at all.” Remy motioned for them both to sit. “You said you had questions ready to ask me?”
“Oh, yes!” Russel opened the notebook and opened his mouth. He shut it again when Remy held his hand out.
“Why don’t you give them to me? I’ll read them over and make sure they’re suitable.”
“Make sure—” Russel’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Of course.”
Remy took the notebook and handed it to the butler. “Take this to my office so I can read them later?”
The butler nodded and left the room with it.
Mac’s gut twisted as he watched Russel stare after the butler. “You are going to let Russel interview you this evening, aren’t you?”
“We might need to arrange another time.” Remy’s voice was unapologetic. “So I have time to approve the questions first.”
Mac curled his hands into fists in his lap. “Russel had the questions on Sunday. You could have asked for them then.”
“It’s fine, babe.” Russel smiled tightly at him.
It was anything but fine, but Mac gritted his teeth and remained silent.
“You’re very protective, aren’t you, Mac?” Remy asked.
Mac narrowed his eyes at the question. He didn’t think he was being protective. He was pissed off at being jerked around by Remy. Once more, he felt like some kind of plaything. It was weird how he’d wanted Russel to order him around, but when Remy played his controlling games, it made his skin crawl. Then again, Russel showed him respect. He’d kept things slow, even when Mac wanted to charge right into being cuffed. He shivered, hoping there would be an opportunity for Russel to chain him up in the very near future. In the meantime, he knew he needed to stay grounded in the present; it would be all kinds of inappropriate if he ended up with a hard-on at the dinner table. He had to stay focused and make sure they left with the interview so they never needed to see Remy again.
To that end, he forced a smile to his lips. “Just looking out for my boyfriend.”
“Isn’t he cute?” Russel interjected.
Remy’s lips pursed into a thoughtful smirk. “Yes, he is.” He paused as the butler returned and began pouring them all red wine, starting with Remy. “After dinner, why don’t I show you t
he clothes Sebastian designed for me?”
Russel’s eyes popped wide. “Really? That would be amazing. Thank you.”
Mac bit back a response to Remy’s generous offer. It was yet another game, and right now, Mac didn’t have much choice but to play along.
“You two must have a lot in common,” Remy said as three servants walked in and served their food simultaneously.
Mac wasn’t impressed by the show of wealth. He didn’t give a fuck how much money Remy had. It sure as hell didn’t make him a nice person. After grunting a semi-polite thank you to the person who served him, Mac turned his thoughts to the question Remy had thrown out. An answer should have come easily to him and Russel, except they weren’t that well prepared.
“Actually, we don’t.” Mac looked Russel squarely in the eyes. Russel’s eyes had widened in panic. “But you know what they say: opposites attract.” Mac beamed at Russel. “Isn’t that right, darling?”
Russel smiled and reached his hand across the table. “That’s right, babe. We’re like chalk and cheese, but we still fit together perfectly.”
Remy cut into the dark pink flesh of his rare steak. “A little early to be sure of that, isn’t it? You’ve only been together a few months, and you haven’t moved in with each other yet.”
Russel nudged his steak, his lips turning down a little. “We spend a lot of time together.”
“But you can never really tell, can you?” Remy popped the small square of steak into his mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully.
Mac took a gulp of red wine. “We’re happy together. Right now, that’s all that matters.” He leant forward so he could graze his fingertips against Russel’s outstretched hand.
“How cute.”
Mac glared at Remy. “You seem quite jaded. Can’t keep a boyfriend?” Oh fuck, he shouldn’t have said that. As much as he hated sucking up to the slimy man, he had to keep in Remy’s good books. For the interview. For Russel.
Remy chuckled. “Oh, believe me, I can have whomever I want, for as long as I want.” He nodded towards Russel’s untouched food. “Don’t you like the steak?”
Mac hadn’t touched his either, so it pissed him off that Remy had singled Russel out.
To his credit, Russel smiled brightly. “I’m just not very hungry. I didn’t realise we were having dinner, so I grabbed a bite to eat before meeting Mac.”
“Ah. My mistake.” Remy dabbed at his lips with a cloth napkin. “Shall we go look at those clothes?” He pushed his chair back and stood.
Russel’s eyebrows shot up, and his jaw went slack. “I didn’t mean—” He gestured for Remy to sit. “You should eat. I’m happy to wait.”
Beneath the table, Mac pressed his fist into his thigh. There were a dozen things he wanted to say to Remy—none of them nice—but he had to bite his tongue for Russel’s sake. The sooner Remy stopped fucking about and did the interview with Russel, the sooner they could get away from him for good. And potentially each other. The thought left a gaping hole in his chest. They were only spending time together for the sake of this interview. Once Russel had it, they’d probably go back to being strangers.
Remy sat and took his time eating. The only mercy was that he stopped talking while he ate. But then, he’d already humiliated Russel, so Mac guessed Remy was chalking the first part of the evening up as a win.
Mac was actually amazed when, after the plates had been cleared, Remy led them upstairs into what could only be described as a gigantic dressing room. There seemed to be two sections to it: an area to sit with a chaise longue and the wardrobe and changing room. The two areas were separated by a dividing wall and a curtain, but no door. Even though Mac didn’t give a toss about designer clothes, he followed Remy and Russel into the wardrobe area.
“All the clothes Sebastian designed for me are in here,” Remy said, opening one wardrobe.
The delight on Russel’s face sent a thrill snaking down Mac’s spine.
“Oh, these are gorgeous!” Russel pulled out a royal purple frock coat, which was made out of some kind of textured material that Mac couldn’t name. “You are so lucky.”
Remy smiled. “Why don’t you take a good look and try your favourite outfit on?”
“What? Seriously?”
Remy nodded. “We’re not so different in size. You’re a little smaller than me, so everything should fit.”
Russel clapped his hands together. “Thank you!”
“Of course.” Remy slid his arm through Mac’s. “Mac and I will wait out here. I can’t wait to see what outfit you pick.”
Russel gave Mac a wary look.
“Something wrong?” Remy asked.
“No,” Mac said. “Take your time, darling.”
Russel smiled thinly, his excitement clearly tempered by concern. His doubts about Remy obviously hadn’t been eclipsed by the thought of getting to try on exclusively designed clothes.
“It’s fine,” Mac reiterated. “Enjoy yourself.”
He didn’t want to leave Russel. More accurately, he didn’t want to be alone with Remy, but there was no way of getting out of it. For now, they had to play into Remy’s hands in the hopes that he’d actually come through and give Russel the interview.
He allowed himself to be led to the sitting area, where Remy sat on the chaise longue, patting the cushion beside him.
“Sit with me?”
Mac smiled tightly but did so.
“Your boyfriend is very… sweet.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
Remy’s gaze trailed slowly over Mac. “I can understand why he’d want such a big, strong man.”
Mac swallowed but didn’t dignify Remy’s comment with a response.
“Do you know where I like men like you the most?”
“On your staff?”
Remy laughed. “You’re funny, Mac. I like that.”
Mac cleared his throat. “Look, I don’t know what your game is, but I’m taken.”
Remy held his hands up. “I think you’ve misunderstood.”
“I’m pretty sure I haven’t.”
Remy pursed his lips. “Russel means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“This interview means a lot to him.”
Mac’s throat felt tight as Remy edged a little closer on the chaise longue.
“So it must be important to you too.” Remy’s words felt like a demand rather than a statement of fact.
Mac stood and moved to lean against the wall. There was no fucking way he wanted Russel to come out of the changing area to see Remy sitting so goddamned close to him.
“You might want to think about how important it is to you,” Remy said quietly. “What would you do to make sure your boyfriend gets this scoop? I imagine it will make his career.”
Mac tugged at the neckline of his T-shirt. He was pretty sure the temperature had just gone up by several degrees because he’d started to sweat. “I’m not sure Russel would be happy to hear you talking like that.” He kept his voice low.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Remy said innocently.
Mac coughed. “Sounds like you’re asking me to sleep with you, in return for that interview.” Okay, so Remy hadn’t said that in so many words, but Mac was capable of reading between the lines.
“I’ll deny it.”
“And who do you think he’ll believe?”
Remy shrugged. “I think that depends on what’s more important to him: you or the interview that could give him the career he really wants.” He flicked a speck of dust off his trousers. “I’ve done a little digging. I know Russel isn’t really a reporter. Not yet. Maybe never.”
“You’re a—” Mac snapped his mouth shut as Russel pulled back the curtain.
“How do I look?” Russel struck a pose.
Mac was left speechless as he stared at the slim man. He’d dismissed Remy’s entire wardrobe as being ostentatious crap, but damn, Russel had picked out the one tasteful outfit in the whole wardrobe. He was we
aring a white shirt, tucked into red chinos, with the top three buttons undone and a pale plaid scarf tucked into it. The scarf had enough of a touch of red to complement the trousers, but also a touch of grey to match the casual jacket Russel wore over the shirt. As far as Mac could tell, there wasn’t anything special about the outfit that necessitated it being designed exclusively for Remy. But then, he freely admitted fashion wasn’t his thing, and he was too wrapped up in how fucking gorgeous Russel looked.
Remy looked Russel up and down. “It wouldn’t have been my choice for you, but it’s nice.”
Russel’s lips tugged down.
Mac pushed away from the wall, standing up straight. “You look hot.”
Russel managed a small smile as his cheeks became flushed. “Thanks.”
“Makes me want to take you home and ravage you,” Mac said. Or rather, he wanted to go back to Russel’s place and get down on his knees so he could worship the gorgeous man before him.
Russel pressed his hands to his face. “You’re not supposed to say things like that in front of other people.”
“It’s the truth.” And Mac wanted Remy to know it.
Remy stood, his features stoic and stiff. “Then you two had better get home. I’ll take a look at those questions, Russel. I’ll be in touch if I want to go ahead with the interview.”
Mac’s stomach flip-flopped. He wanted to get the hell out of there and never look back, but he knew how much the interview meant to Russel. If they left now, there was no way it would ever happen. The disappointment on Russel’s face indicated he knew it too. Fuck! Mac had screwed things up royally.
“Thank you.” Russel’s voice was tight. He pointed to the curtain. “I’ll go get changed.”
Remy nodded smartly.
As soon as they were alone, Mac strode over to the chaise longue and leant onto it, staring Remy directly in the eyes. “You’ve got no intention of ever doing an interview with Russel, do you?”
Remy smiled coldly. “I did. But you’ve made it quite clear that you don’t want to cooperate.”
“What is it you want from me? Sex?” Even saying the word left a bitter taste in Mac’s mouth.
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