by Ava Drake
Stone couldn’t fault her logic.
“Or I go all in, stand with Stone—Jack—and we laugh off this whole thing as… what? A joke? A bet Jack lost and he had to kiss his aide full on the mouth?”
Christian tossed out a few suggestions for silly reasons why Jack might have had to kiss his aide. A dare, maybe. Or proving that he wasn’t homophobic.
Stone looked back and forth between the two of them desperately trying to cover for a man they both despised. Abruptly, the insanity of it all was too much for him. “Or,” he interrupted, “we could have me appear as myself and explain that I’m a security guard and am involved with Christian in my off time. We can laugh it all off as a case of mistaken identity.”
“But then you can’t appear as Jack at the casino night,” Christian objected. “Worse, they may expect you and Jack to appear together to prove that you’re two different people.”
“Maybe. But not definitely. After all, I’m a sitting senator. The onus is not on me to prove these crazy allegations by a scumbucket papparazzo.”
Christian sighed. “Sadly, the public is more inclined to believe a salacious accusation from the media than it is the word of an elected public official.”
He supposed he couldn’t blame the public on that one. “But what if I go back to looking a lot more like myself and much less like Jack?” He warmed to the idea the more he thought about it. “I haven’t shaved today. If I don’t shave tomorrow, I’ll have a good stubble going. I’ll wear my own clothes. I can get you a bunch of official photos from my military days. Wild Cards, Inc. can verify that I work for them. I’ve got an official résumé picture on file with them too.”
Jill nodded slowly as Christian murmured thoughtfully, “It could work. But it would make a casino-night appearance by you doubly risky. People would be checking to see if Jack was actually Jack or not.”
“One crisis at a time,” Stone retorted.
Tucker piped up. “If the would-be killer thinks we’ve duped him or her, that person could come after you with a vengeance. Your profilers said the stalker is volatile and prone to violent outbursts, remember? Recognition wouldn’t be your main problem at the fund-raiser. Staying alive would be the real challenge.”
Stone shrugged. “And we can deal with that when the time comes. I’m not entirely inexperienced with high-threat situations.” He continued persuasively, “At this point I don’t give a crap for Jack’s reputation—no offense, Mrs. Lacey. I’m only concerned with protecting your good name and Christian’s professional reputation. The two of you need to come out of this with a future ability to do the work you enjoy and are committed to. You just have to buy me one lousy day to get scruffy, Christian. I’ll do the rest.”
Of course the six-hundred-pound gorilla in the corner was that by him and Christian publicly admitting to being lovers, it blew any chance Christian would ever have of keeping his private life private and separate from his professional life. There was coming out and then there was coming out. A press conference on national television couldn’t get a whole lot more high profile.
Jill looked back and forth between him and Christian. “I say we do it. As much as I dislike my husband, I’m not giving up my charities if I don’t absolutely have to.”
He winced. She didn’t have any idea how abhorrent it would be to Christian to parade his personal relationship all over the media.
The brittle quality clung to Christian more than ever, but as Stone looked at him questioningly, Christian met his gaze grimly and nodded just once. “Agreed. Stone and I go public.”
He tried to catch Christian’s gaze again, to offer him silent support and sympathy, but Christian was having none of it and instead turned away to stare down at his laptop. Stone could feel Christian silently shattering into a million pieces. And something painful in his own chest ached in response, as if a few of those shards of Christian’s splintered dignity were stabbing him. And there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.
The deadline for Jill Lacey to buy the photographs from the scumbag came and went.
Ominously, the phone stayed silent. No last-minute pleas for cash came from the photographer, so they could only assume the greedy little worm was now engaged in a bidding war with the tabloids for his pictures of Christian and Senator Lacey making out on the beach.
The dinner hour approached. “Anytime now,” Christian murmured. “The phone’s going to start ringing, and it won’t stop until we put you in front of the press, Stone.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think you called it. Once this story breaks, it’ll smoke out Jack. I can absolutely see him prancing out in front of reporters with Chesty on his arm to refute accusations of being gay.”
“Oh Lord. I hadn’t even thought of that. At all costs he cannot be seen with that woman. Then Jill will have to divorce him anyway, and everything we’ve done to protect her will be for nothing.”
Fuck. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “Have you considered sending Tucker down to Barbados to meet the Wrastle Castle when it docks and stop Jack from committing career hara-kiri like that?”
“Yes, but if you have to go through with the casino fund-raiser, we’ll need Tucker here. If he’s in Barbados, you’d be even more exposed to Jack’s stalker. You heard what Tucker said earlier. The stalker’s going to be royally pissed off if he figures out that he’s been duped. I won’t leave you unprotected like that.”
An entirely unfamiliar feeling seeped into his awareness. It was… fuzzy. And warm. All cuddly and soft and…. Nauseating, dammit. Totally nauseating. Yeah, that was it. Good Lord. His machismo restored, he said sternly, “Christian. In the first place, it’s my job to take risks. But in the second place, I’m very good at what I do. I know how to stay out of an assassin’s sights.”
“You’re asking me to bet your life on it.”
“Indeed I am. Do you trust me?”
They exchanged a long look. Christian still looked doubtful, and Stone did everything he could to inject reassuring vibes into his gaze. He murmured, “I’m just trying to look out for the people I care about, here. Please let me do that.”
Christian swore under his breath. “And you say I’m good at managing people. Ha! Bastard.”
“I’ll go tell Tucker to pack a bag and jump the first flight to Barbados.”
“Impress on him how vital it is that Jack not be seen by anyone with Chesty.”
“Got it!” Stone called over his shoulder as he went in search of Tucker.
THE phone started ringing a little after 6:00 p.m. And it wouldn’t freaking stop. One call would no sooner be transferred over to voice mail than the damned thing would start ringing again. It made Christian want to scream. Every ring shouted at him of his betrayal of his employer, of his principals, of a lifetime of class and privacy.
Losing his freaking mind, he resorted to turning off the ringers of every phone in the suite. Even his cell phone was exploding. He really didn’t want to take those calls because they would be from friends. Possibly even family. Oh God. He was going to be ill.
Although burying his head in the sand wasn’t going to change a damned thing. Manning up, he forced himself to park in front of the television and turn on the evening celebrity gossip programs.
The press was all over this story like a rash on a cheap hooker. The glee was palpable as everyone made arch comments and snide jabs at the conservative, Bible-thumping senator from Texas secretly being gay. In their defense, he had to admit the hypocrisy of it was too rich for the media not to react exactly that way.
Not to mention that reporters loved nothing better than bringing down a rich and powerful public figure, particularly one who’d consistently been an asshole to them over the years. They might be going after Jack, but he was caught squarely in the crossfire whether he liked it or not.
Christian drove Tucker to the airport but didn’t get out of the SUV lest someone recognize him and shove a cell phone camera in his face. When he got back to the hotel,
he was touched to discover that Stone had arranged for hotel security guards to meet him at the loading dock, park the SUV for him, and escort him in a service elevator to the suite.
It was a bizarre sensation being the man in the media’s bull’s-eye. That had always been Jack’s job. Christian had been the invisible aide standing in the shadows, well clear of the spotlight. And then Stone had been the guy at the podium, getting all the attention. No wonder both of them had freaked out in their own ways—Jack running off with a woman, and Stone just running. He couldn’t entirely blame either one of them for needing an escape. It was a suffocating sensation to always be looking over one’s shoulder, trying to spot one’s watchers.
He made it back to the suite, and Stone wrapped him up in a hard hug as soon as the door closed behind him.
“Jill?” he managed to gasp past the rib-crushing embrace.
“Spa,” Stone muttered into the side of his neck. “God, I’ve been waiting all day to get you alone so I could apologize to you. I should have listened. You warned me the press was everywhere, but I didn’t believe you. This is all my fault.”
“What’s done is done, Stone. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You have to let go of it and move on. I’m going to need your undivided attention tomorrow. You’ll have to do exactly what I tell you—”
The doorknob rattled, and he and Stone leaped back from each other as Jill returned to the suite. He lifted a bag of complimentary beauty supplies out of Jill’s hand and hustled it back to the master bathroom. It had been decided that Stone would move back to his own room since he was supposed to be himself again. They would all pretend that Jack was spending time alone with his wife in the suite after his big scare at the gala with the helicopter crash.
When Christian returned to the living room, Stone was gone. He cursed silently. He hated every second they had to be apart. Which was to say, he had it bad for the guy.
“I like him,” Jill commented shrewdly.
“Who? Stone?”
“Of course, Stone. You’ve fallen hard for him, haven’t you?”
“What makes you say that?” he asked cautiously.
“For one thing, those pictures that got shoved under my nose. That’s as hot a kiss as I’ve seen between any two people in a long time. And my dear boy, you positively glow when you’re around him. I’ve never seen you happier.”
He didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was merely seeing the absence of misery because he wasn’t having to deal with her husband 24-7.
“Go on. Get out of here already,” she ordered him.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The story is that the two of you are lovers. So go be lovers. If you made that poor man live out your cover story and be my husband for three days, the least you owe him is to live out his cover story for a couple of days.”
A smile broke across his face, and he couldn’t stop grinning like a love-struck idiot no matter how hard he tried. “Call me if you need anything, ma’am.”
“I’m sure Jack and I will be fine in the suite by ourselves. I may need one of you to come down and eat the breakfast in bed that the two of us are going to order in the morning.”
“Call me before you do that. We’ll have Stone come down and make a brief appearance as Jack so the hotel staff can verify that Jack’s in the suite with you.”
“An excellent idea. That’s why you’re the best staffer on Capitol Hill, Christian,” she said warmly.
He ducked his head and then all but ran down the hall to Stone’s room. He slipped into the suite and into Stone’s arms with profound relief.
Stone was already looking more like Stone again. A five o’clock shadow darkened his square jaw, and the tight athletic T-shirt that clung to his prodigious biceps was pure badass. Even the close, European cut of his black jeans screamed of a soldier or security type and not a middle-aged politician.
And that fire in his eyes. Oh no. There was no sign of Jack Lacey in this man.
He breathed, “I need you to be the soldier tonight. No civilization. No nice manners. I don’t want there to be any confusion as to who I’m in bed with. Erase all memory of Jack Lacey from my mind.”
“Jack who?”
They traded grins.
Chapter Thirteen
STONE woke up slowly, splayed out on his belly, a little hungover. There’d been a fair bit of Jack Daniels involved with last night’s delicious depravity. He’d fantasized about letting loose with Christian, but he’d never dreamed the man would actually revel in it. They were both fit enough and strong enough that they couldn’t really hurt each other if they turned their bodies loose on each other with complete abandon.
As it was, he was stiff and sore in places he wasn’t accustomed to feeling discomfort. And it felt fantastic.
“You awake?” Christian murmured in a deep voice over his back.
“No,” he replied. “I think I’m still a little drunk.”
“Good. You up for a little more?”
“I can’t move.”
“I don’t need you to move. I need you to relax and do what I tell you to.”
That moved him considerably farther along the scale to full consciousness. “What do you have in mind?”
“Does it matter?”
A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Fair point, well made. I’m up for anything you can imagine.”
“Including bottoming for me?”
“For you, anything.” Particularly when it included those big strong hands kneading at his shoulders and then working their way slowly down his back, massaging out every last kink and knot, leaving him a boneless mass half melted into the mattress.
Christian had him lift his hips and slid a pile of pillows under them. He nudged Stone’s thighs apart and knelt between them. Stone’s languor dissipated sharply as he realized Christian was serious about taking him this way. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bottomed. Tension claimed him, but then the lingering alcohol and the druggingly wonderful massage Christian resumed combined to lull him back into a state of deep relaxation.
Something warm and slippery circled his ass, and he moaned with pleasure.
“Like that?” Christian’s smooth voice murmured.
He groaned as Christian dipped a finger inside him in time with another finger sensually tracing the underside of his penis. He tensed, but Christian’s teasing fingers retreated and he went back to massaging him, this time focusing on his thighs and gluts.
“Stay half asleep. That’s how I want you. All relaxed and mellow.”
“Done,” he sighed. It was the strangest feeling to just relax and let Christian do whatever he wanted to him. Equally strange was the realization that he trusted Christian completely, totally, and without reservation.
Christian gave him a full body massage that taught him a few things about himself. Like the fact that he had a bigger hedonistic streak than he’d realized. And that a good foot massage was the next best thing to sex. And that he had a few ticklish spots he’d been heretofore unaware of. But as soon as Christian discovered those, he was quick to soothe him back into a semisomnolent state.
And then Christian rose up over him. “Ready for this?” he murmured.
“Yeah, sure. Anything you want. I’m yours.” Huh. He meant it too.
And then Christian was spreading him and filling him with smooth assurance. The cascade of sensations was startling, and Stone tensed beneath him.
“Relax, big guy,” Christian murmured, soothing his hands up and down Stone’s back. “You’re mine, remember? Just sit back and let me do the work.”
Maybe he was still more drunk than he’d realized because that sounded like the best idea he’d heard in a long damned time. Or maybe it was because Christian had so thoroughly lowered his barriers to trust that he genuinely was good with bottoming for the man.
Christian was no less endowed than him, and his body stretched to the point of discomfort around the invading heat. Very slightly, Christian flexed
his hips. Stone tensed but then told his body to relax. Christian patiently moved a tiny bit again. He had to give the guy credit for being a considerate and self-disciplined lover. Eventually he was able to stay fully relaxed and open beneath Christian.
Sensing it, Christian withdrew more fully and filled him with a little more strength.
Mmm. That was nice. “Do that again,” he mumbled into the pillow.
“Like this?”
“Uh-huh.”
By slow degrees Christian increased the pace and intensity, and Stone’s breathing accelerated to match. It was becoming a struggle to lie passively beneath Christian and not rock his own hips. But every time he started to move, Christian froze and waited for him to still.
It became an act of enormous mental discipline to hold himself still and open for Christian. As he gradually got the hang of it and released the need to react to his raging lust, something changed. Not only was he holding his body relaxed and open for Christian, but also his mind. Hell, his soul.
The entire moment became an act of emotional submission. And Christian insisted that Stone give it freely and completely. He finally understood what Christian was asking for. Everything.
And I want to give it.
“Take me, Christian,” he gasped. “I’m yours. Fuck me until I can’t walk. Split me in two. Make me whole. I surrender.”
With a groan, Christian drove into him with all the power Stone could have hoped for. He reached over his head and pressed his hands against the headboard, pushing back so he could be filled even more deeply and fully. Christian grabbed his hips to increase his purchase and took him without mercy then. And it was, bar none, the most amazing thing he’d ever experienced in his life. Never, ever, had he given himself fully to another human being like this.
His orgasm, when it came, was so emotional it felt as if his heart exploded. His entire being turned inside out. “My God, I love this. I love you,” he groaned.
Christian drove into him one last time and then came deep, deep inside him with a shuddering shout of his own. It was as intimate as hell. Christian collapsed on top of him, their bodies spooning together perfectly.
