Santori Reborn (The Santori Trilogy Book 2)

by Maris Black

  I opened my mouth to retort and ended up closing again. Dammit, the guy was right. Again. What good was a piece designed to get media attention if we didn’t stick to the theme? It only made sense to have at least one nude. Otherwise the title was just clickbait.

  “Okay, you’re right. I love the idea. I’m just not used to photographing naked men, so I freaked out a little.”

  “I get it. It’s not that easy taking my clothes off for you, either, but I figure we need to go big or go home.”

  I didn’t believe for a minute that getting naked in front of me was any kind of hardship for him. He’d already shown me everything he had except his dick, and I suspected that before it was all over I’d be seeing that, too. And if his dick was anything like his ego, he was hung like a horse.

  I had another moment of panic, because what the hell was I doing? I wasn’t a porn photographer. I was an MMA blogger.

  An MMA blogger who’s taking naked photos of his boyfriend’s opponent.

  But then I thought of Kage breaking up with me, and that was all it took for me to embrace the stupidity. I settled in behind my camera and shot a series of photos that would undoubtedly end up in spank banks all over the world.

  “Let’s take a pic of us together.” He rolled halfway onto his side, bending his knee so that it was the only thing protecting me from a gratuitous eyeful of dick. “That would be cool, right? The interviewer and the interviewee.” He grinned.

  I came out from behind my camera and glared at the smug fucker. How dare he suggest something like that? I wondered if what he was doing could be considered sexual harassment. It was certainly making me feel uncomfortable. “I’m not taking a picture with you naked and me fully clothed. That would be wildly inappropriate. Besides, it would end up on some fetish site somewhere.”

  He laughed. “I didn’t mean like that. I meant with both of us decent. Keep it professional, Jamie. I’m not that easy.” He winked.

  Great. Now it seemed like I was harassing him.

  “Sorry. I feel like an ass.”

  “Give me a minute to get dressed, and we’ll get a professional picture of us.” He pushed up easily off the bed, and…

  Yep, there it was. The dick shot I knew was coming. I looked away and busied myself with checking my phone. Tons of social media notifications. Three texts from Steve. No texts from Kage. I sighed and slid my phone back into my pocket without reading any of it.

  When Anthony was finally presentable in a T-shirt and shorts, I set up a shot of the two of us sitting on the sofa looking at each other with serious expressions, as if we were in the middle of the interview rather than tying up loose ends afterward. And in fact, this hadn’t felt much like an interview at all. It had felt like plotting.

  “You know, you should start doing video interviews,” Anthony suggested.

  “I would need a small crew for that. I plan to hire some people soon, but for now written interviews with photos is about all I can handle.”

  “Let me know when you do, and we’ll get together again. Or hell, even before then. You have my number.”

  “I do.” I waggled my cell phone at him.

  “Oh, hey, that reminds me,” he said, retrieving his phone from the bedside table. “You’ve got all kinds of pictures, but I have none. Let me get a selfie of us.”

  I hesitated, considering his request, but I couldn’t think of any reason not to do it. “Sure. Come on.” I patted the seat beside me, and he plopped down nearly on top of me. His hip was jammed against mine, and when he threw an arm around my shoulders, our entire sides were mashed together, and I was stuck in his armpit. I was grateful that at least he wasn’t naked anymore.

  “Smile,” he said. We leaned our heads together in the requisite selfie pose, and he clicked the button. “Now stick your tongue out.”

  “What are we, in high school?”

  He frowned into the camera. “Just do it.”

  “Fine.” We both hung our tongues out, and he took the picture.

  “Now show me that pretty smile.”

  “Pretty smile? Are you trying to take a picture or ask me to the prom?”

  His eyebrows flew up. “You know, you’re a terrible selfie partner. At least pretend you don’t hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “Then smile.”

  After Anthony tortured me through another few selfies, I packed up and made my escape. Back in my room, I flung myself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Now that I didn’t have anything to occupy my mind, my thoughts went to Kage again. I wondered what he was doing. Was he working in the Alcazar? Training with Marco? Plotting bad guy stuff with Theo? Was he missing me at all?

  I dreaded going home, but at the same time, it’s all I wanted to do. Kage and I needed to work things out properly because this state of relationship limbo he had me floating in wasn’t going to cut it. Either we were going to be together, or we weren’t. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him, but the not knowing was even worse. It made me feel like a chump. Like he was just stringing me along. If we were committed to each other, then maybe I could give in and do what he wanted. We had been apart before. If he could promise me beyond a shadow of a doubt that we would be together when the two years were up and he could finally sell the properties he had inherited, then I could wait for him. I loved him that much. I could immerse myself in work and build my business up.

  But going without sex for eighteen months or so would be a challenge for both of us. I was less worried about me than Kage. I knew I could last if I had him to look forward to at the end, but what about him? I liked to think that he was strong and that love would prevail, but what if he couldn’t make it? And it wasn’t just about sex. It was about love and connection. What if he fell for someone else? What if I waited all that time and then found out at the end that he wasn’t mine anymore?

  I sat up and growled into the silent hotel room. I had planned to attend the fight in the evening and then catch my flight out in the morning, but I couldn’t wait that long. I was angry and frustrated, and all I wanted to do was find Kage and work things out. All that blustering I had done before I left meant nothing now. I made the decision to do whatever he wanted because he was mine, and I couldn’t imagine a future with anyone else.

  I called the airline and changed my flight to the earliest one I could get. I was going home.

  CHAPTER 11

  KAGE

  It was Saturday evening, and I was sweating bullets waiting for Theo to show up at my place. I’d given Steve instructions to have a temporary key card waiting for Theo that he could use on the elevator to unlock the penthouse floor. I’d spent the afternoon playing with my guns, standing in front of the mirror and practicing holstering and unholstering smoothly. Truth be told, I was also practicing my gun face, because I was just vain enough to want to look good while I was gunning somebody down.

  When Theo arrived, I answered the door in a T-shirt and sweats, the holster and gun firmly secured beneath my waistband and hidden by my shirt. I said a silent prayer to no one in particular to please not make me have to use it. I wasn’t even close to good enough yet.

  When Theo looked at me, being strapped didn’t make me feel powerful in the least. It made me feel vulnerable and exposed. What would he think if he discovered my little secret? I had already prepared the excuse that if I was going to be playing with the big boys, I needed to know how to use a gun. But the excuse wouldn’t be of much use if he didn’t give me a chance to explain.

  “Michael,” he said, drawing my name out like Santori always did. It made me wonder how much the two of them had talked about me in the past.

  “Welcome to my castle,” I said, realizing too late how cheesy that sounded. “Can I get you a drink? I didn’t know what you like other than the Macallan, so I ordered a bunch of different stuff delivered. Beer, whiskey, wine… Hell, I don’t even know what all is in there. I just told them to bring an assortment of their best stuff.”

&nbs
p; Theo brought his hands out from behind his back and showed me the bottle of Macallan. “I figured we’d have at least a glass of this to get things going.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “Let me grab some glasses.”

  We sat on the sofa and shared our first drink, and the conversation was actually easy for a change. Theo could be downright charming and normal when he wanted to be. We discussed the hotels, a little politics, fighting, and our favorite restaurants. Regular stuff. I was so relieved. If I could get through this night with him thinking I was cool, maybe he would soon trust me with the secrets of his business. I wasn’t naïve enough to think it would happen quickly, but maybe over the course of a couple of months. That wasn’t too long. I could handle that.

  After we drained our glasses of Macallan, we went into the kitchen and chose our next drinks. I wanted to try a little of everything we had, so I started at one end of the counter, planning to sample my way to the other end over the course of the evening. One small drink of each should have me feeling good, but not so drunk I couldn’t function. The idea was to get Theo loose enough to open up more to me, and I couldn’t expect him to get wasted while I watched. I had to lead by example and make a big show of having a good time.

  About halfway down the countertop of alcohol, I realized that I may have been putting on too much a big show, because I really was having a good time. Theo was recounting a story about him and Peter getting drunk and peeing on a sidewalk when I noticed my head was spinning.

  “They hauled us in for indecent exposure,” he was saying. “Pete was mortified, but I thought it was fucking hilarious. I don’t think he ever forgave me for that.” He glanced at me, and the smile faded from his lips. “Kage, are you feeling okay?”

  “The room is starting to go a little sideways. I think maybe I overdid it. I’m not used to drinking this much alcohol.”

  “Hey, don’t flake out on me now. We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” He pulled a thin gold case from his pocket and grinned evilly at me. “You ever do cocaine?”

  I swallowed, my mouth suddenly feeling very dry. “Tried it a couple of times. I can’t do that, though. Gotta fight soon.”

  “You said it was a couple of months away. Coke only stays in your system for a few days. It’ll be fine.”

  “Nah, man. Really, I can’t do that. I—”

  Dammit, I was supposed to be making Theo think I was cool. Would refusing to do coke with him ruin my chances of gaining his trust? Even as drunk as I was, I knew it was a really bad idea. But I had enjoyed the couple of small lines I’d had before, and if it wouldn’t stay in my system longer than a few days, what was the harm in doing one line?

  Theo pulled the coffee table closer to the sofa and set his little gold case on it. Then he opened a vial, dumped white powder onto the mirrored glass inside the case, and used a credit card to cut two lines, one long and thick, one thin and short. He scooted closer to me.

  “What’s your currency?” he asked, holding both hands out to me palm up. One held a rolled up hundred dollar bill, the other a small gold straw that matched the case.

  I took the hundred.

  “A cash man,” he said. “Personally, I prefer gold.” He made quick work of the larger of the two lines, zipping it into his nostril with practiced ease. “Your turn.” He pushed the case in front of me and sniffed, rubbing his nose to clear the residue that lightly powdered the edge of his nostril.

  Fuck it, I thought. I bent down and snorted the tiny line, relieved that Theo had the decency and the sense to at least go easy on me.

  After that, everything was a blur of rushing and snorting. Time passed between the lines, but I didn’t feel it. All I knew was that he kept pushing lines in front of me, and I kept snorting them up. After the first line, he hadn’t even had to ask again. I got up and turned some music on, cranking the volume louder than I normally did. The music took on a life of its own, and I even did a little solo dancing, which I never would have done sober. Theo was a rapt audience.

  Between everything was the intermittent volley of the coke tray. Slide and snort, slide and snort. It seemed like every time I turned around Theo was sliding it in front of me again, though in retrospect it couldn’t have been nearly as many times as I’d thought.

  Even though there were only two of us, it started to feel like a real party. At some point, Theo got a phone call. He stepped out of the room to take it while I wallowed on the sofa, lost to the music and the distinctive bitter taste of cocaine draining down the back of my throat.

  I was barely aware of Theo returning to the room, all glittery-eyed and nervous from the coke. Had I missed him? It felt like I’d missed him.

  He patted his pockets and pulled out his temporary key card. “I’ll be right back. Don’t you go anywhere.”

  I nodded, only vaguely curious about where he was going. When it seemed like he had been gone forever, I took over his job and slid the tray to myself. With trembling hands, I tried to cut a line in the powder Theo had left in the case, but all I ended up doing was fumbling the case onto the rug face down.

  “Fuck!” I yelled, the word lost in the pounding music. I dropped to my knees and tried to do damage control, but the powder was clumped on the carpet. Thank goodness I could still see it. With no other option, I grabbed my hundred-dollar straw and snorted frantically at the scattered coke, feeling and tasting it as it filled my nostril.

  I pulled myself back up onto the sofa and sank into the cushions. This was some good shit. I didn’t ever want to stop. How had I not been doing this every fucking day?

  My door swung open, and Theo was there again. I had no idea how long it had been. A minute? A year? It was all the same to me.

  “I spilled it,” I said, my voice extremely slow and slurred despite my racing mind. “I spilled it, but don’t worry. I snorted it up. Snorted it up. Like a Hoover.” I laughed.

  “Did somebody say Hoover?” A tiny dark-haired twink pushed into the room from behind Theo. Another, slightly taller dark-haired twink was close on his heels, carrying what looked like a box under his arm. They looked almost like twins, with high cheekbones, perfect noses, and glossy pink lips.

  “Get out of here with your cheap-ass Hoover,” Twink #2 said. “Haven’t you heard a Dyson never loses suction?”

  “Hey, I didn’t say it. He said it.” Twink #1 gestured toward me.

  “Michael…” Theo said, interrupting their animated exchange.

  “Call me Kage.”

  “Okay, Kage.” He smiled, and if he liked the idea, and pointed at the shorter of the two boys. “This is Noah.” Then he gestured toward the taller one with a dramatic flourish of his hand, a grand presentation. “And this one is Felix.”

  The two boys waved at me. “Hiii,” they said in unison. Noah smiled cordially, while Felix shot me a megawatt grin and eyed my body like a starving man at a buffet table.

  God, were they even legal?

  “Nice place,” Noah said. “But it’s too bright in here.” He set about dimming lights without bothering to ask if I minded. I didn’t. At the moment I didn’t mind much of anything.

  “Are these friends of yours?” I asked Theo, feeling a bit confused as to how they even ended up here.

  “Very good friends. I think you’ll like them.” He came over to the sofa and grabbed the tray. After he added more coke and cut lines into it, he snorted one and offered the straw to Felix, who took him up on it without a second’s hesitation. Noah was still busy messing with the lighting in the apartment, which was now almost completely dark. Suddenly a bright blue light started pulsing on and off, making everything look jerky and out of sync.

  “What the hell,” I said.

  Felix pulled his head up from snorting his line and waved a hand dismissively. “He carries that strobe light everywhere he goes. It would be annoying if it weren’t so cute.” He made a kissy face at Noah, who flipped him the bird.

  I thought nothing had ever looked as cool as Noah flipping his fri
end off in the strobing light. Everything had gone dreamlike and surreal, like a scene in an Andy Warhol movie, and I liked it. It occurred to me that I shouldn’t have company here, and especially not a couple of twinks who were obviously looking to have a good time. But it was just so cool, and Theo was obviously enjoying himself. In my apartment. As if we were friends.

  He held the straw out to Noah without a word. Noah made his way over to the sofa and took it, snorting a line loudly and rubbing his nose afterward. Now that they both had some coke in them, Felix and Noah started dancing in the middle of the floor, looking uber-cool and edgy in the strobing light. When their dance turned into a grope session, it took me a few minutes to realize what the hell I was watching, and I looked away in shame. Toward Theo.

  He was watching me watch them, and it was a little disconcerting.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “About what?” I bounced my knee nervously, not wanting to acknowledge the truth of the situation.

  Theo inclined his head toward my makeshift dance floor. “The boys. Felix and Noah. Which one do you like?”

  I blinked. “They both seem nice.”

  “Nice, huh?” He chuckled and passed me the coke. “Noah is my particular favorite. He understands me.”

  I ignored his comment and snorted the baby line on the tray. That was really all I cared about.

  Sometime later, we were all dancing. Well, Theo wasn’t so much dancing as he was feeling Noah up, but Noah wasn’t complaining. Felix came close and put a hand on my shoulder, shaking his head from side to side as he looked at the floor, lost in the music. Then he looked up at me and smiled, and I had a moment of clarity about what was going on here. Every move the boys made said they were down to fuck, especially now that the coke had kicked in. Shit. Was it time for another line yet?

  Keeping a firm grip on my shoulder, Felix flattened his other hand against my chest and moved it slowly down my body, fingers trailing over my abs. Then he froze and swallowed before snatching my T-shirt up. “You’re packing heat?” It sounded like a cheesy line from a cop show.