A Matter of Time 07 - Parting Shot (MM) (21 page)

I had created doubt and fear. It was all on me. I was so stupid sometimes.

Moving fast, I tackled him, pile driving him down under me onto the floor of the car, my hand behind his head so he wouldn’t bump it.

“What are you—”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, bending to press my forehead to his, closing my eyes at the same time.

He was very close to hyperventilating.

I inhaled and exhaled slowly, my hand moving between us, over his heart, just there, pressing gently, letting him feel the weight as I breathed.

He trembled violently, almost jerking under me as if an electric current had passed through his spine.

“Forgive me,” I said, my voice hoarse and low, as I lifted my head and stared down into his eyes.

His hands were suddenly in my hair, buried there, holding on.

“I know why you want us to have sex.”

He said nothing, but his eyes were riveted on mine.

“You make me stupid with wanting you,” I confessed.

He gently massaged the back of my neck. “When we’re together, you agree with me. You’re not scared, and you commit to everything and anything I want.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?” I asked dryly.

He laughed lightly and lifted his leg to rub his thigh over my hip. “You really like fucking me.”

I settled over him, and he wrapped both legs around my hips, as I burrowed my face into the side of his neck. “I do like it—love it actually—but that ain’t all.”

“No?”

I lifted my head so I could see his face. “Not hardly.”

My words soothed him, and I watched the softness return to his eyes.

“Aaron—”

“Stop. Just listen to me,” he said gruffly. “We’re going into that resort together, and we’re coming out together. The whole time we’re there, you stay right by me.”

“You know that might not be possible,” I began gently.

“No,” he whispered against my temple. “I know it’s not a vacation. If it was, I’d have you sequestered away on some private beach.”

I made a rumbling noise into the hollow of his throat, and he arched up off the floor, rubbing against me, moaning softly as he clutched at my back.

“You like it when I do that,” I said, pleased because these were little things I could build on, private things between us.

“It drives me crazy,” he confessed before he caught my gaze. “But seriously, you’re going to love being on the yacht with me, but there’s always, always going to be other people. Miguel is a constant because he’s not just my driver, right? He keeps me safe. But there are housekeepers, butlers, cooks—these people are part of my life, and we’ve been together a long time. I have surrounded myself with an amazing group, and you’ll find that out. But seeing me with you, that’s part of the gig. It’s part of having ironclad confidentiality agreements, and you need to get comfortable with that part of your life.”

Yes, I did.

“The people who work for me are not just anybody.”

“I get it,” I insisted, shifting over him, pressing my hard groin to his.

“Are you hearing it? Are you listening? They’re my staff, I trust them, and they trust me. Are you getting it?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Yeah?” he asked, bending his knees and lifting slightly so my cock slid along his crease. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then enough of this bullshit,” he rasped, grinding against me. “Enough of you pulling away from me! I don’t ever want you to pull away from me!” He sounded scared and pissed and frustrated all together.

And I felt like such an asshole. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”

“I do mean it,” I said huskily.

“Then no more of you even thinking about being out of this,” he barked, toeing off his black penny loafers.

And he was right because that’s where my brain had gone.

He put a hand on my chest and pushed back. “Help me.”

Once he had his belt unbuckled and his pants unbuttoned, I grabbed the cuffs and shucked them down and off his long, muscular legs. I smiled when I saw what was underneath. “A thong?”

“I like them. They’re not constrictive,” he teased.

“No, they’re not,” I agreed, peeling down the black microfiber underwear. When I bent to lick the pearly drop of precome from the flared head of his cock, he choked out my name.

My lips closed around the crown, and he whimpered low and sweet before I dipped my head and began slowly sucking him down my throat, inch by inch.

“In my bag,” he directed, even as he wriggled beneath me, one hand fisted in my thick hair. “There’s lube. It’s there, right there.”

I just wanted to suck him dry.

“Duncan.” He tugged urgently, trying to get me off him.

Lifting my head, letting his hot, wet cock slip from my lips, I heard his painful groan. “Get the bag!”

Turning, I saw what he wanted, grabbed the strap, and yanked it from where it was on the floor over to him.

He tossed open the flap and shoved a small bottle at me.

“You just carry that around?”

His eyes met mine. “Never know when you’ll decide you actually want me.”

“That’s crap.”

“Prove it,” he flared, putting his feet on my thighs as I sat back above him. “Because all I’ve heard so far today is ‘no’.”

His bright eyes were locked on me, but they were heavy-lidded with need. Curling over him, I took brutal possession of his plump, shapely lips, grinding my mouth down over his, invading and tasting, sucking on his tongue.

He squirmed under me as he got my belt undone, trouser stays open, and briefs shoved down enough to let my cock bob free.

“Before we go into the resort,” he said, panting, “I need you.”

I slicked myself fast and pressed against his entrance as I lifted my eyes back to his.

“Please,” he begged.

Slowly, I sank down into the welcoming heat of his body.

“You have to belong to me.”

I lifted his legs to my shoulders and we moved together with the fluidity of years between us instead of merely days. Plunging deep and hard, I felt his muscles clenching around me. I pulled out, only to slam back inside.

“Don’t stop!” he gasped, and I could hear unshed tears in his voice.

“You want promises, but you’re scared to ask for them.” It was a statement.

“Yes,” he cried, and I knew it hurt to answer because it was true.

“Because everybody leaves you,” I uttered his fear.

“Yes.”

“Not anymore.”

“Duncan… you have to want me, need me, have me… you have to stay…,” he whined, his voice cracking as I pounded into him, driving to his core. “Please.”

He was so tight and hot, and the way his hands clawed at me to keep me close, keep me buried inside him, all that was sexy. But his eyes were the true revelation. Whatever pride had been there was gone. I could see clearly what I was being offered, and his beautiful body was only part of it.

“Stay with me.”

I had no intention of going anywhere.

“Promise me.”

I shoved in, slid partway out, over and over, like I owned him, and he writhed beneath me, wanting more of my swollen cock and the savage pounding.

“I want the words.”

I was so close to giving up and giving in.

“Baby.”

“I promise,” I said, and we both knew what I meant.

I would stay. I would be patient. I would be strong and swear to keep the secret of what the man looked like when he completely came apart and offered his heart up for the taking.

“Duncan!”

“I won’t leave you.”

And all the worry and fighting flooded out of him because from that second on, he would stand secure of his place in my heart.

“I want to feel your words.”

Grabbing his hips, I lifted him up and rolled to my back, impaling him as I felt the desire licking up my spine.

“Make a mess all over me,” I goaded him. “I’m yours.”

He rode my cock hard, pressing down, shoving me inside impossibly deep, and I learned right then that the pistoning was not what got him off, but the stretch and the push. His muscles milked my length, the pleasure edged with pain, taking me inside, the intimacy and the dominance: that was what flipped his switch and made him spurt hot and thick over my abdomen.

My orgasm ripped through me as I thrust up into him, loving the feel of the aftershocks that consumed him, his ass spasming around my cock and his head thrown back on his shoulders in absolute surrender.

He was a vision.

I gathered him close and held him tight until he went boneless in my arms. I couldn’t move that much, my dress pants only pushed to my knees, but enough so he could lift up and have my cock slide from his slick, wet hole.

Fluid ran out of him and onto me, and since there was no bathroom, no way to clean up before we had to get out of the car, I sacrificed my undershirt to the cause and wiped us both off.

“Duncan,” he began, and I saw that my sweet man needed me.

Rolling forward and taking his face in my hands, I kissed his forehead and his eyebrows, nose, eyes, cheeks, and then took his mouth, inhaling him, kissing him until he had to pull away to breathe.

“You’re not getting away from me,” he panted.

“Don’t want to. I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”

I didn’t know his eyes could get that big.

“We’re in this.”

“I thought we were in it before?”

“I will punch you in the head,” I warned him.

His smile was radiant before he was all over me.

“You realize we have to get out of the car that smells like sweat and jizz, right?”

“Try to get me to care.”

We moved apart, each of us surveying the state our passion had left us in. My pants couldn’t be salvaged, my dress shirt had buttons missing, and I had semen sticking to my abdomen.

“This is such a bad idea,” I assured him after retaking my seat.

“What?” He had flopped into his, sprawled out, looking completely debauched.

“Us getting out of the car.”

“No,” he said, scrambling forward, closing the short distance between us, and climbing back into my lap. “We’re going to see this through. We’re going to do our jobs here and then go back to Chicago because I really want to take you home.”

“Why?”

“I’m ready for my life to start.”

He had a way of knowing the right thing to say.

T
HE
instructions were: drive up to the main gate of the resort, get out, and punch a code into the box. Once the code was transmitted to the front desk, a car would be dispatched with security personnel. The guests would have their passports or other ID ready to show when they were asked for it, and then they would be wanded with handheld metal detectors. All electronic devices, including cell phones, tablets, and the like, would be left in a secured, climate-controlled locker near the front gate. The guest would place items in the locker and get one key, and security would have the other key, much like a safety deposit box at the bank. The building where the lockers were housed had twenty-four-hour video surveillance, as well as its own security guards, to insure the safekeeping of all surrendered technology. Once all steps had been completed, IDs verified, and items relinquished and stowed, then a Jeep would show up to drive the guests the rest of the way, a mile and a half, to the main building.

Sitting there beside Aaron in the back of the nicest tricked-out, custom-leather-seat Jeep I had ever been in, I was able to take a breath.

“I hope you enjoy your visit here with us at Buona Sera,” the driver said, smiling into the rearview mirror.

I opened my mouth to answer him, just to exchange pleasantries, but Aaron squeezed my knee and spoke instead. “Thank you so much.”

I turned to look at him, and he gave the slightest shake of his head.

Not sure what was going on, I stayed quiet anyway, enjoying Aaron leaning against me, the last moments of it being just us before we were on stage.

A bellhop met us where we were let off and carried the two duffel bags inside the main building, where we crossed a wooden footbridge over a stream complete with river rock. The way it was done, it seemed to be floating, and already I was impressed.

The reception area was an enormous open atrium, beautifully landscaped, complete with a waterfall. But the bigger surprise came when I saw a man leading a stunning blond woman around on a leash.

Aaron’s hand on the small of my back propelled me forward, and at the desk, the clerk, an attractive woman, smiled and said our stay would be taken care of by the owner of the resort, Mr. Wells.

“Oh. That’s very kind of him.” Aaron gave the woman his killer smile, and I watched her swallow her tongue. “But please take my card for incidentals, as I plan to be ordering many.”

She shook her head. “No, Mr. Sutter. He said that he knew you would insist, but no.”

“Well, that’s so generous and unexpected. Are you able to tell me, will we be seated at his table this evening?”

“Yes, you will be, Mr. Sutter. Cocktails are at nine in the Red Room.”

“Excellent.”

She furrowed her brow delicately. “I don’t mean to in any way overstep, sir, but does your boy have his collar?”