Marshall: Mayfair Model Series

by Castle, Claire

  I was frozen in place and surprised to say the least. This time, it was me glancing around to see if we’d been noticed.

  He shook his head. “Stuart, it’s okay. Truly.”

  I let out a sigh of relief that I hadn’t realized I was holding. “What’s going on here? Have the tables turned, and now you’re the reassuring one?” I took a gulp of my drink yet didn’t let my other hand part from his. “I kinda like it.”

  He grinned a cheeky smile. “Hey, now, don’t get ahead of yourself, it’s probably a once a year thing.

  “A decade’s more like it, I was thinking.” We both laughed, and Marshall seemed relaxed and happy. We chatted into the night but eventually had to leave. “They’ll kick us out. It’s closing time. Want to head home?”

  He nodded so I grabbed his hand and weaved through the edge of the crowd and out to hail a cab. He kept his hand in mine the whole time.

  Marshall pulled me close and kissed me, and I experienced a mixture of emotions. I wanted to get him home and have him naked. It was so good to have him back, but more importantly, that I’d gotten to spend a fun evening with him.

  I was completely caught up in the kiss when a throat cleared. I jumped back from him as if scalded by hot water. In the darkness, with just the streetlights shining in, I realized it was the cab driver. Shit, we were home already.

  I shoved some money at him, and Marshall and I crowded each other going up the stairs. Inside, he pushed me against the door as my breathing came in broken gasps. Then he undid my jeans and pulled them down. I was staring down at him, and when he looked up and met my gaze, I got to witness more than his professional look—more than the look he gave on the runways or at photoshoots. He didn’t have his guard up, just pure lust and something more.

  I bit my lip and enjoyed the moment, letting my head fall back at his ministrations. My cock bounced out as he pulled down my jeans and boxers. It felt hard as a steel rod. I must have been waiting desperately for this the whole night without even realizing it. “That’s it. Suck me now, Marshall,” I instructed.

  He devoured me in one go, and I could feel his nose nudging my pubic hair. “More,” I panted. I pushed my hands through his hair, not even knowing what I was asking for more of. He grabbed my balls, one at a time, rolling them in the palm of his hand.

  I squeezed my ass, feeling like I was about to come. “Oh …” And then he lifted off of me. “Damn you, Marshall.” He blew lightly on my cock, making a shiver run through me. “Oh. My. God,” I said in punctuated words.

  “Yes, and hurry. I’m about to come.” A few rapid sucks and I was doing just that down his throat. “Oh fuck, yes, Marshall.” My words echoed in the quiet flat. I glanced down to see him licking his lips. So fucking hot.

  21

  MARSHALL

  My phone had beeped at some insane hour when I was at the cottage with Stu. I answered gruffly, listening to Brenna tell me that I needed to get on the first flight to New York the next morning and that she’d already booked it. I’d grumbled out some reply of agreement.

  Standing in line at the airport, all I could think of was Stu’s eyes as I’d left. Imploring. Sure, I could blame it on him and say he didn’t understand this type of career, one where you dropped everything when you’re told to. That’s all I’d ever done and hadn’t ever thought twice about it. But as I stood there, I was becoming increasingly antsy, and so I thought, fuck it. Screw the consequences and I walked out of the airport. I was allowed to have two full days off, after all.

  I’d gone back to the cottage first, then to Stu’s flat to surprise him. With no sign of him, I took a chance and texted Jamieson. I wanted it to be a surprise. He said they were all at the club but had given me a veiled warning when he asked if I really wanted to come or not. Great, so he’d told his friends what an asshole I was.

  Now, here I was, after the most wonderful night out with Stuart, having just swallowed him whole and wanting, needing, and craving some more. He tasted delicious. All my thoughts were focused on making him come undone, on his happiness.

  He pulled me through to his bedroom and said “My turn” as he manhandled me, shoving me over the bed. And I loved every second of it. “Fuck,” I moaned into the bed. He ripped down my jeans and massaged my lower back.

  Nothing mattered but his touch, the tang of him still strong on my lips. I waited in anxious anticipation. I could sense his movements around the room but didn’t know what he was doing. I clenched my ass as it felt cold with my jeans at my ankles.

  “Soon, my man, soon.” It was as if he could read my mind. Then his tongue licked up my crease and across my hole.

  “Ohhh …” I let out a strangled cry. Spreading my ass cheeks, his tongue darted in and out and then he blew across my hole. My whole body shivered and the sound of my breathing deafened me. I let out a gasp as I heard a click and something cold entered me. “Fuck … Stuart. Wha-what?”

  He scissored his fingers in a way that made me almost lose my mind. All my senses were elevated in that moment. I couldn’t even think, and instead I let myself become entranced in the moment, all thoughts leaving me.

  “That’s it.” He echoed my thought as he slapped my ass. “Do not move.”

  My dick twitched on its own accord as I felt a shiver go through me.

  “Was that movement I saw?” he questioned, his voice sounding suspiciously close to a laugh. I was about to turn my head but knew I would be screwed even more. Instead I stayed completely still, even though my cock had other ideas.

  There was rustling in the background and my sense of perception was on high alert. I couldn’t quite tell what was going on, but then he was back and nudging his cock at my hole.

  “We have to talk. You do know that, right?” he asked, his tone serious.

  I didn’t dare move. This was a trick, right? Some cheeky test on his part.

  “Well?” I could almost sense him tilting his hips, hand on one of them.

  “Ah, you said not to move. So pretend my lips aren’t,” I said gruffly. I hoped he wouldn’t notice me not exactly answering his question. I was so in the zone, though, I probably would have agreed to anything. “Fuck, come on, Stu,” I said, twisting my head around.

  Then he met my gaze with lust-filled eyes and pushed me back down between my shoulder blades. I breathed in his scent on the pillow, waiting in anxious anticipation. He tapped my hole and then entered excruciatingly slowly. All I could hear was his breathing.

  He pushed in and then pulled fully out. My cock felt harder below me, if that was even possible. I sucked in a deep breath, waiting.

  “You want it? Tell me what you want, Marshall,” I heard above me. I’d never done this, never dreamed I could, but with Stuart I could vocalize anything I wanted—anything I was feeling. I fucking loved it.

  “Fuck me. Hard and fast. None of this making me wait.”

  Without warning, he pummelled into me at a relentless pace. I grunted and growled, barely noticing the noises I was making, or anything else outside of the two of us. “Stu, fucking give … more,” I rasped out incoherently.

  Gripping my hips, he pushed in further, and then stayed seated inside me. “Oh fuck, you’re so hot. Dammit, Marshall, I can feel you gripping me tight.” He pushed his legs out, seeming to balance on his toes and managed to enter me at a different, hot-as-fuck angle. I cried out and panted, unable to control myself.

  He grasped my cock when I was right on the edge. “No, don’t come yet.”

  “Fuck, I need to.” Then he loosened his grip and took one pull, making me come all over my cock, his hand, and the covers. It was so erotic and sexy, and I could still feel him inside of me. I managed to squeeze around him one more time, and then he thrust a few more times before he emptied inside me.

  He pulled out of me then, and I noticed the loss right away. Tying up the condom, he went to the garbage bin in the corner, and then out of the room. I panicked thinking he was leaving. Fuck, he couldn’t. What was he doing? I breathed a
sigh of relief as he made his way back holding a warm cloth; he wiped me down and then himself.

  God, I was such an asshole. Of course, he hadn’t left. I rolled on my back and pulled the cover up over my waist. I suddenly felt exposed and I wasn’t sure I liked being in this vulnerable state. I tried to push those thoughts aside, for now.

  Cracking open an eye, I said, “Come up here, Stu” and placed him in the crook of my shoulder. Rubbing a finger on his back, we lay in silence in the dark room.

  He sat up. “I don’t do everything you tell me to.” He smirked, letting me know he was teasing me. “I can’t decide if you really have no idea or are a self-centred jerk.”

  Though he couldn’t see me, I shrugged, half-heartedly. “Maybe a bit of both,” I mumbled.

  Then Stuart stood up and stomped over to the corner seat, gloriously naked. He seemed pissed off, but we’d just had mind-blowing sex not moments before.

  He stormed out of the room for the second time. I sighed and checked my phone. My flight was rescheduled for three hours from now. I wondered absently if I should I have just stayed and waited it out at the airport. No, we’d had the best few hours together, no matter the outcome. Sitting up and letting the cover drop, I sat cross-legged, and rubbed my hands over my face. I flopped back, waiting. The calm before storm so to speak.

  When Stuart re-entered, in the soft light, I saw a tear roll down his cheek. Fuck. I was completely out of my element here.

  He cleared his throat. “Ah, Jess is okay. Asleep and safe and sound.” Proving once more what a shit I was. I didn’t even think twice about Jess once we’d entered his bedroom.

  “Thanks,” I twisted my hand in the cover. “Have you, are you crying?”

  “What, no.” He rubbed his hand across his face. “Just splashed water on my face. That’s all.” He came closer to me. “Don’t think that. Don’t doubt our wonderful hours together, okay?”

  I didn’t quite nod but listened for what was next. I took a deep breath. “It was wonderful ... And I won’t”—I tapped his nose—“as long as you don’t either.”

  “Well, no guarantees. I mean I’m trying to be the boyfriend to Mr. Grumpy.” He clapped his hands together. “Hey, maybe I should trademark that.”

  I pulled him into me and we got cozy under the covers. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Though I’d fucked everything up, and surely would some more, I could go on my trip rest assured that we were okay. “Look, I know I think about myself a lot. That’s all I’ve ever had to do. And … then when I hurriedly left the airport, I thought I’d have time to come back and see you before I had to go again. But I do have to leave again shortly.”

  We cuddled closer and in the dark night he said, “I’m glad you delayed it.”

  The time to go to the airport arrived far too quickly. “Babe, I’ll have to go,” I said in a sleepy voice and Stuart moved to get up. “No, no, don’t get up. I want to envision you just like this. Then I got changed and left the apartment. It was chilly, probably four in the morning after all. I’d called a cab to come and as it pulled up, I heard movement behind me. Stuart was there, plodding up behind me in only a thin t-shirt, jogging pants, and slippers. Taking my face in both hands, he kissed me passionately, his smooth skin against my beard—perfection.

  Back at the airport, I was smiling as I ordered coffee. When had that ever happened. Some fans wanted an autograph and a photo. I obliged and even took one with my own phone. Adding some text, which I’d learned to do when playing on my phone on flights or between photo obligations, I texted a photo to Stu of me smiling and a young girl—with the caption: SEE, I CAN BE GOOD!

  I sat reading the paper, reassured that we were okay. I’d never wanted anything so much in my life. Not even any elusive modelling contract. As I flipped a few pages, I saw my mother in one of the society pages, talking about the next gala she would host, and how there would be exclusive guests at exclusive tables. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

  I was waiting for Stuart to reply, but I had the party on my mind now.

  Me: Will you come to the gala with me?

  Stu: What will people say?

  Me: I don’t care. Ah, we can go in a group. You, me, Jamieson, and Carter.

  The text bubble lit up as if he was writing, then stopped. And lit up again. Christ, I couldn’t take this. It was just a fucking text message, and I was having heart palpitations. Even walking the catwalk in the biggest European designers’ clothes didn’t do this to me.

  Stu: I’ll think about it.

  Then not a moment later …

  Stu: Joking. Of course, Mr. Grumpy

  Me: Hey!

  I looked at the time and still had an hour before I’d board. I remembered Stu telling me his favourite treat was liquorice allsorts, so a few internet searches later, and I’d ordered a huge box to be delivered to him. I added the gift note—“Read in the gossip magazines that these are your faves.” I knew he’d get a kick out of that note and it made me happy just thinking how he’d react when he received it.

  The flight to Milan was rather uneventful, and when we landed, I checked my phone, but nothing from Stuart. Well, it had only been a couple of hours.

  I found the address Brenna had given me and advised the cab driver. I leaned back and shut my eyes for a few moments, remembering the feel of Stuart, of his touch and my reactions, and how he knew what to do to set me on fire.

  I had a quick shower and went into makeup. They plucked and smoothed and tugged at my hair. It was a pyjama line that myself and another model whom I was familiar with would be showcasing.

  She smiled at me from the chair across the room and I smiled back. The look of shock I’d gotten in return surprised me, but then I realized, my usual response was a tight-lipped glare.

  As we posed under the light, I was dying to check my phone. Had Stuart gotten the gift. Was he excited? I felt like a silly school boy. Not that I’d had the chance to experience any feelings like that back then either. To hell with it.

  I cleared my throat. “Ah, can we take a break? Little boy’s room,” I said, motioning down towards the bathrooms. I grabbed my phone and went back, locking myself in.

  There was a text message. I let out a breath. Yes. Then I opened it and saw it was just my mother asking me to confirm the names of my guests for the event and to do so soon because she needed numbers for the tables. I hit my head on the wall, not hard, and let out a sigh.

  Looking in the mirror, I made sure the makeup wasn’t ruined and took a deep breath. I needed to focus. I flushed the toilet, even though I hadn’t used it, and washed my hands. Making sure my hair was in place, I did what I was known for. Walking out in a professional manner, I got the job done.

  Brenna called me and asked how it went. “Oh good. The usual. No problems.”

  “Okay, great. So, tomorrow is the menswear line. Get there early so they can tailor your suits if needed.”

  “Yes, Mum,” I retorted, on impulse. Then I cleared my throat. “I mean, thanks Bren.” In some kind of strange parallel universe—well that’s all I could think it was—I needed to discuss it with someone. Stuart. Being with him and everything it involved. But … “Ah, Bren, did you, do you have someone in your personal life. I-I’ve never asked, but …” I trailed off. Fuck no, I couldn’t do this.

  “What’s going on, Marshall. Are you dying? ’Cos all this introspection and caring lately is freaking me out a bit. Go back to grumpy you, okay? And quick.”

  “Well …” I wanted to continue, but when I looked, she’d ended the call already. Dammit. I could get a cab back to the hotel, but instead I chose to walk the few blocks back. I pulled my jacket in closer as I went outside because it was getting a bit cooler.

  I tried to take in the scenery—the buildings and the landscape—but all I could think of was Stuart. I wanted to hear his voice. I needed to. But he should be the one to make the next move, right? I had no fucking clue. It was driving me crazy. I could ask him again about the gal
a. How lame an idea was that. Even me, who had no idea what I was doing, saw the stupidity in that move.

  Back at the room, I ordered room service, stripped out of my clothes, and changed into some jogging pants. I should go to the hotel gym but couldn’t face it. I pressed my finger into my abs and laughed. One day wouldn’t hurt.

  After the food was delivered, I started to eat and put on some mindless television. A game show host filled the screen, discussing who knows what. On impulse, I called Carter. “Hey, man. What are you doing? Long time, no talk.”

  “Hey,” he said, sounding out of breath, “Marshall? Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, are you busy?” I heard a moan and then rustling. Fuck, how awkward.

  “No, not at all, what’s up?”

  “Oh, well, you know my mother has that fancy gala coming up, so I was wondering if you wanna come? Stu’s coming, his roommate is, too, so we can make a night of it. Whatd’ya think? It’s next Saturday in London.”

  “Oh yes, totally. I can’t wait. Awesome. I’ll mark it down right now, so definitely count me in.”

  I let out a huge sigh of relief. Wow, I was really going to do it. Bring who I wanted to one of my mum’s events, not following her rules. Who woulda guessed I was in my thirties. No female arm candy. My hand started shaking on its own accord. Fuck. No, I wanted this. Screw the consequences.

  “Okay, well enjoy the rest of your night. See you later.” I checked my phone for about the millionth time and then took the bull by the horns and phoned my mother. Wow, I really was desperate.

  “Hi, Mum. Yes, so there’ll be four of us—me plus three at the party, okay?” She didn’t say anything for so long, I was sure she’d hung up.

  “Three women,” she said, and the tone of her voice emphasized the word women.

  “No …”—I bit my lip and then let out on a breath—“men.” There, I’d said it. I waited. I needed Stuart. Why wasn’t he here? Why hadn’t he called? Well, that’d have to wait til later.