Saying Goodbye (12 page)

Jack heard the echoes of laughter and men’s voices from down the hall. As he approached the indoor spa, w
it
h its heated pool, hot tub, weight room, sauna and steam room, he could see the men enjoying themselves.

“’Bout time, Larsen.” Hunter raised a fluted glass which appeared to have champagne and orange juice in it.

“So,” Jack said, looking down at all the nude men in the pools. “We’re all stuck here.”

“Oy!” Ewan, who appeared tipsy, said, “Stuck? You don’t know stuck until you’ve been
in Carlisle, mate.”

Josh tackled Ewan to the tiled floor and the two of them wrestled naked, laughing as if they had both had too much to drink. And it wasn’t even
noon
yet.

“Are you coming in?” Pete asked, sitting in the hot tub between the twins.

“Gonna work out. I’ll join you after.” Jack thumbed in the direction of the weight room. Then he asked, “It’s still there, right?”

Jason nodded. “Still there.”

Colt and Ashton were in the pool, relaxing with their arms on the ledge. “You hear from Mark?”

Jack shook his head and kept walking, taking off his shirt and hanging it on a hook on the wall. He was wearing his jeans, but sat on the incline bench facing the mirrored wall and did curls.

Would I go to Rome if Alex asked?

Jack watched his chest
swell
and biceps curl as he did an easy work out.

Yes.

Mark hadn’t slept well.

He stayed up late and didn’t take a sleeping pill since he thought he would be hazy from it when he woke up.
H
e ate a little and had a long run on his and Steven’s usual route, trying to get his body ready for his next shooting schedule.

Most of the night he spent staring into space, thinking and trying not to think. Naked, in the king-sized bed alone, in his and Steve’s Bel Air house, Mark realized it was the first time he was on his own, truly alone
for twenty-four hours
.

He had gone from his parents’ home, constantly under the watchful eye of his nannies
and painful scrutiny of his bastard of a father
, to
sharing
an apartment near the college
with Jack
, to living
with
Jack in his home, then marrying Steve.
Mark had never been on his own
.

He rolled over to see the clock. Even though he had set the alarm for
seven
he was awake well before it had gone off. He shut it
off
, climbed off the bed and stepped into the shower.

Taking extra time, Mark scrubbed himself clean,
including inside as well,
as if he were going on a date with someone he intended to screw.
But his date was going to be with his favorite dildo.

After shampooing his hair he ran his hand down his chest and felt slight nubs, in need of a waxing before his upcoming shoot. The cologne and car companies didn’t want him to have chest hair. Mark thought it was absurd, since he was a man, not a boy, but who was he to decide? He shut up
, did as they asked,
and got paid
large sums of money
.

Smearing shaving cream on his chest, Mark rid the nubs and rinsed off, shutting the water and staring down at himself. His muscles showed through his smooth skin. Every sinewy ripple of his chest and abdomen was visible. That’s what starving did, it made him appear cut.

Mark stepped out of the tub and stood before the mirror, drying himself, and inspecting his body.

He combed out his wet hair, which was getting long, almost to his nipples. He needed to trim it. But after he dried it, the soft waves merely brushed over his shoulders.

Mark moisturized his entire body
in coco
a
butter
, and then rolled on deodorant. He took a brush and blow dryer to his hair and styled it as he blew it dry. When it was full like a woman’s thick mane, he turned off the blow dryer and stared at his eyes.

The green color was slightly golden from the
gilded
light
fixture
in the bathroom. Mark opened the cabinet above the sink and removed eyeliner.

He never wore it. Or rarely. On occasion the cologne makeup crew would touch his eyes up, making him appear slightly androgynous. Again, Mark wondered if that was absurd
.
P
erhaps Alex could get away with it at twenty-four. A forty-
two-year-
old man pretending to be young and vital?

Sad.

Mark used just a touch, lining his long dark lashes only at the far ends of his eyelids. He blinked and had a look, shaking his hair so it covered his forehead.

He put the liner away and took his brand
of
cologne out of the same cabinet. He sniffed it,
and
then sprayed it on his low abdomen only.

Mark inhaled the musky aroma, which settled down once it was on his warm skin and seemed to arouse those who smelled it.
He replaced the bottle and took another look at himself, shooting himself a sultry glare.

Mark rolled his eyes and left the bathroom.
I look like an old tart.

He stood in the walk-in closet and chose a pair of tight
,
black slacks, one with a slight sheen to them. He slid into them, tucking his cock to one side and zipped up,
and
then wove a belt through the loops s
ince his weight loss
made his pants loose at the top. He buckled it
and
then looked through his
shirts
.

Black. He felt as if he had to wear black since the men he was going to be admiring were all going to be dressed in dark uniforms. Mark picked out a V-neck top, one that was soft and silky to the touch. He put it on and shook his hai
r out, allowing the shirt to lie
outside his slacks. He tugged the sleeves down and then looked at his watch.

Mark
inspected
himself in the
full-
length mirror.
Whatever.

He sat down to put
on a pair of black socks and
shoes
;
ones that appeared to be boots but only came to his ankle.

He shut the light and
descend
ed the stairs. His cell phone was left on the kitchen counter. Mark peered at it and noticed several missed calls and text messages. Ignoring it for now, Mark made a cup of coffee for himself and as the coffee
d
ripped he opened cupboards, knowing he had not eaten
more than a salad
in nearly twenty-four hours. The last thing he wanted to do was pass out.

Mark reached
into
the refrigerator and
pulled out a container
of yogurt. He leaned against the counter and ate the
fat-
free food, then tossed the
empty yogurt
container
into
the
recycling
bin
and filled a mug with coffee. Just enough almond milk to lighten the
strong
taste, Mark sipped the coffee and stared out of the window. It was bright blue and sunny. Not a cloud appeared in the Southern California sky.

Mark quickly sipped the coffee,
wash
ed the mug, and then trotted up the stairs to brush his teeth. He checked his appearance as he did, and rinsed his mouth
to rid the coffee taste
.

His
image in the reflection did nothing for him. He turned away from it and made sure the lights were shut off, and even made the bed quickly. Mark returned to the lower floor, chose a
buttery
soft black leather jacket which had been made in Italy, from the coat closet, and put it on. He stood at the counter, inhaled a deep breath and scanned the missed messages.

Steve, Jack, Adam, Alex
…
the usual suspects. None from Billy, so Mark assumed this
SWAT session was still a go.

He pocketed the phone without listening to any of the voicemail messages or reading the texts.
You can all do without me for one bloody day.

Mark reached into the pocket of his jacket to stuff his phone in when he felt something inside one. He removed a condom. Mark blinked in surprise.
He couldn’t recall the last rubber
he had used, since his love making had become exclusive to
Steve,
Jack, and Adam.

About to toss it away, Mark stopped and stared at it. He tucked it back into the pocket. Maybe it was a sign
he was going to get lucky
?

Giving the room a quick visual sweep, Mark made sure he had his wallet and keys,
and
then stepped out of the house to stand outside. Five minutes later, the punctual Captain Billy Sharpe’s macho
,
white pickup truck, pulled in front of Mark’s house.

Putting on his sunglasses, Mark smiled, feeli
ng slightly predatory, and made his way
towards the truck.

~

Billy, wearing a pair of worn out blue jeans, an LAPD T-shirt and an older
,
brown leather jacket, looked at the man approaching his truck.
Holy shit
.

Mark’s hair blew in the breeze and he was dressed as if he were going to
strut
a catwalk, not witness a training exercise. What did Billy expect
? Mark to be in a sloppy T-shirt and sweatpants?

The man was the Nation’s Top Male Model.

Mark climbed into the passenger’s side and shut the door. “Hullo, Captain.”

The scent of Mark’s cologne immediately hit Billy and made his cock move in his jeans. “Hi.” Billy put the truck in gear and began driving, wondering what the guys on the department were going to think now. Billy assumed Mark would dress casually, but Mark could not be predicted.

“Have you heard from Alexander?” Mark fastened his seatbelt.

Billy slowed for a stop sign and then continued on. “I got a voicemail from him yelling at me for not being available.”

“Oh?”

“It was while I was out running. Then I tried to call him and he didn’t pick up. I’m not sure if it
’
s bad timing or spite.” Billy glanced over at Mark’s profile and
it almost distracted him enough to not see a car had slowed in front of him. He hit the brake and Mark touched the dashboard to brace himself.

“Sorry.” Billy felt flustered and nervous suddenly.

Mark didn’t comment on the driving. “Yes, well, Alex is most likely going mad missing you.”

Billy glanced down at Mark’s left hand, seeing the wedding ring on his finger and his perfectly manicured nails. He couldn’t keep his attention on the road, staring at Mark’s tight black slacks and his gorgeous profile.

“Maybe,” Billy said, clearing his throat. “I tried to be available all night, and he never called.”

“Hmm.” Mark leaned his elbow on the door rest.

“You
…
uh, you didn’t have to get all dolled up. I mean, the exercise is pretty dirty. The training area is a dust bowl.”

Mark glanced at him through the sunglasses. “Dolled up? I’m not dolled up. This is how I dress.”

Billy felt his face go warm. “I mean, I guess I should have told you to wear jeans.”

“Oh? Am I going to participate, Captain?”

Billy noticed Mark
’s wry smile. “No.
” Billy laughed. “But that doesn’t mean everything out on the training field isn’t dirty.”

“I like it dirty.”

Billy glanced at Mark again. Mark was looking out of the front windshield.
Christ, you are unbelievable
. The urge Billy had to reach into his jeans and adjust his cock was becoming annoying. But he
didn’t want to let on Mark was exciting him
.

Just the scent of this man was getting to Billy. And Alex wasn’t the only one missing a daily fuck-a-thon.

Silence grew heavy as they drove, so Billy asked, “What’s going on with the rest of the guys? When’s Steve coming back from Paradise?”

“I don’t know.
I assume late this evening.
”

“You don’t know?” Billy became confused. He stopped at a traffic signal. “Are things okay with you guys?”

Mark didn’t answer right away.

“Mark?” Billy touched Mark’s thigh.

Mark instantly looked down at the contact. Billy withdrew his hand and placed it on the gear shift.

“Steven and I have had a slight falling out.”

“Oh? Over?” Billy shifted into first and kept driving to the training course.

Mark ran his hand through his hair,
fidget
ing in the seat.

“Never mind.” Billy wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

The sound of a buzz from a mobile phone text made Billy glance over again.

Mark took
the
phone out of his pocket, and appeared to shut off the phone and stuff it back in.

“Are you okay?” Billy
didn’t know
what was going on. First Mark comes back early from a weekend away, without Steve and his other two minders in tow, and now Mark seemed distant and preoccupied. “Did you eat yet?”

Mark gave Billy a glare that he read even through the sunglasses. He held up his hand in defense. “Okay, I’m not your mother.”

“No. Not by a bloody long shot.” Mark interlaced his fingers on his lap.

Billy
adjust
ed his position on the truck’s bench seat
to settle his cock down
, trying to think of something other than the gorgeous model sitting beside him.

For the first time since he and Mark had met, years ago through Mark’s son and Oliver Loveday’s relationship, at UCLA’s drama school, he and Mark Antonious Richfield, were alone.

Billy didn’t know why that made him a mass of nerves suddenly. But it did.