by Cindy Dees
“Oh, that wasn’t anywhere close to how bad combat gets. No one had any body parts blown off, and nobody died in my arms. There were no lakes of blood, and the only screaming was from scared people, not half-gutted people. Like I said before—it was a good night.”
Stone’s words conjured up all of Christian’s fear for Stone’s life from earlier. A shudder passed through his entire body.
He stood up and moved toward Stone slowly, his legs feeling a hundred years old all of a sudden. He said raggedly, “My first thought when the helicopter started to come down was of you. I was terrified for your safety. And I was scared shitless that you might die before we got to figure out what’s going on between us.”
“What is going on between us?” Stone asked seriously.
“It’s more than I’ve wanted to admit to myself is going on, that’s for darn sure.”
That drew a short laugh of commiseration out of Stone.
By mutual unspoken consent, they moved into the bedroom. Christian wrapped his arms around Stone and hung on for a long time, again, absorbing the strength of Stone’s embrace. Eventually, the shock and relief wore off a bit, leaving just the two of them behind.
Stone muttered, “When I heard that firework blow so close, I thought someone had shot me. And my first thought was how pissed off I was going to be if I had to die without ever telling you how goddamn crazy about you I am.”
Christian’s entire being froze. Stone felt the same way about him? Something opened up around him, not exactly unicorns farting hearts and rainbows, but possibility. Hope.
In his entire life, he’d never seriously believed he might find a man like Stone, who was his equal in intelligence, focus, and drive, and who actually might be able and willing to love him back.
By being gay, the dating pool was already vastly reduced in size, and then his impossibly high personal standards eliminated most of the rest. As if that weren’t bad enough, within that tiny pool of possible life mates who met his high standards for ethics, intelligence, and general hotness, one would have to exist who would put up with his OCD tendencies, his high-powered job, his high-stress life, his need to control his world but also his need to relinquish that control in the bedroom, his sarcasm, his arrogance, and all his other many imperfections. And then to top all that off, he would have to actually find that person.
Had lightning truly struck?
Stone was kissing him, and all of a sudden he was kissing Stone back passionately, desperately. The adrenaline rushing through his blood turned to molten desire, and insatiable need to have this man was slowly driving him half-mad.
Stone seemed to be similarly affected, and they tore each other’s clothes off, wool and starched cotton, silk ties, socks and underwear pooling on the floor around them.
And then it was just the two of them, chest to chest, belly to belly, heart to heart. Their lovemaking was frantic at first, but then, as their bodies joined and became one, they slowed, savoring this moment, languidly exploring the boundaries of pleasure with each other.
Stone seemed to understand that tonight Christian needed to be made love to tenderly in the same way Christian instinctively knew that tonight Stone needed the human connection with him more than he needed to breathe.
Face-to-face, gripping each other’s cocks firmly, they stared into each other’s eyes as their pleasure grew and grew, and then grew some more.
His craving for Stone knew no boundaries. He hung on with all his strength and rode the wave of building ecstasy, reveling in the almost lost look that came over Stone’s face as he gave himself over completely to this magical thing between them.
He knew the feeling. This was new territory for him as well. He was unused to the silence inside his mind. Absent was the usual sarcastic little voice telling him he was a fake and not worthy of this man. There was something so right about being with Stone, so natural. It just felt right. Easy. Meant to be.
A sense of having found home came over him. Stone was home, the place where he could rest, recharge, and find solace.
Something was different about how Stone was touching him tonight. Sure, the usual intensity and physicality were there, but Stone took his time, was more thoughtful, seemed intent on showing Christian how much he appreciated him. It was… respectful. And it was mesmerizing as hell.
They met tonight as adults, sharing a mutual expression of caring for each other. It was tender within the collision of big, strong bodies. Emotional within the panted exclamations of pleasure. Loving within the lust.
A great yawning space opened up within him, and then Stone was there, filling every last corner of it with his humor and honor and determination, and all the other qualities that made Stone so very special. He absorbed them all into his soul, and in return gave all of himself back.
And then the sheer sexual sensory overload of the moment took over, ripping away all thought, leaving him raw and exposed and hungry. Pounding lust drove him harder into Stone’s hand, pushing against the hard, immovable wall of his lover.
It was all about straining muscles, sweat-slicked skin, bodies slapping together, groaning pleasure, and then a grinding rush toward release. The explosion, when it overtook them, was especially epic, enhanced by the raw emotions left over from the earlier crisis.
They shouted into the pillows as their bodies convulsed in paroxysms of bliss that rocked Christian to the core. His world actually shifted on its axis a little, making room for the possibility of blinding pleasure that left him emptied to the bottom of his soul and refilled to the brim with Stone’s soul. He collapsed back against the pillows.
Mind. Blown.
Stone panted beside him, also lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. They were silent for a change. But then words would do paltry justice to what they’d just shared between them. Stone touched his forearm, sliding his fingers down it to grasp his hand. He managed a reassuring squeeze in response to the unspoken question.
They stayed like that a long time, lost in the feelings, without words, just being with each other.
Gradually, the tension and stress of the evening’s crisis drained, and where it all had been, only the two of them remained. Whole. Unbroken. Together.
Chapter Eleven
STONE WOKE abruptly, startled awake by Christian mumbling in his sleep and tossing in the throes of what sounded like a nightmare. He put a comforting hand on Christian’s shoulder, and Christian settled immediately at Stone’s touch, moving on to something less disturbing in his dream.
Stone was still blown away by the sex they’d shared earlier. He’d never felt anything like that. It moved him. As in, emotionally. Hell, as they’d lain together in the afterglow, he’d actually teared up a little. The grizzled combat warrior had been overcome by the beauty and generosity Christian shared with him.
Since when was he Mr. Sensitivity?
Wide-awake, he looked at the bedside clock. Another hour till sunrise. Time enough to sneak out for a run on the beach, which he desperately needed. Not only did he still feel residual adrenaline from last night coursing through his veins in need of release, but he badly needed to get his head together.
Things were moving fast with Christian. Things he was completely unprepared for and hadn’t seen coming. At all.
He slipped out from under the covers with all the stealth of his Special Forces training and silently collected running shorts, T-shirt, and running shoes. He dressed in the living room and then eased past Tucker, dozing in the chair outside the suite.
The elevator bell would wake the security chief, so he opted for the fire escape. He jogged down a few floors, then ducked into a hallway to catch an elevator the rest of the way down.
Free. For the first time since he’d started this circus of a job, he could disengage, stretch his legs, and clear his head. Except as he finished stretching and took off running down the beach, thoughts of Christian would not let go of him.
He remembered the stricken look in Christian’s eyes as he
’d talked about his fear of losing Stone last night. An image came to him of Christian’s determination and courage as he’d hauled that pilot away from the burning helicopter. He recalled Christian’s openness and honesty in bed last night. He listed everything he couldn’t get enough of about the man, and the list took him several miles down the beach to compile. As he turned for the hotel, he was still adding things to the list, in fact.
Face it, buddy. Christian is perfect.
Stone’s stride lengthened as joy flowed through his now warm muscles and the kinks of vigorous sex worked out. He reveled in his deep breathing, in the blood surging through his veins, in the glorious sensation of being alive.
Eventually it dawned on him that his body might feel great, but his head was generally a mess. The last few days had really done a number on him.
Not only was it bizarre living another man’s life, but what the hell was he going to do with Christian? His life wasn’t set up for another human being to share it. How much was he willing to give up to be with Christian, assuming Christian was even thinking long-term about the two of them?
God, he’d give a million bucks to know how Christian had planned to finish that sentence he’d started when the phone rang last night. The sentence that would have been his response to his accidental declaration of love for Christian.
It had just slipped out. Hell, he hadn’t even realized it was true until the words were out of his mouth.
Love was a topic they’d assiduously avoided so far, and he wasn’t sure it was a place either of them wanted to go. They both had demanding careers they’d thrown themselves into with abandon. Of course, maybe that was both of them compensating for the emptiness of their personal lives.
But after last night, did he have any choice except to bring up the subject? First Granny Chatsworth had forced him to admit how special a man Christian really was, and then the big jerk had to go and show it.
He’d shown it in his active, brave response to the crisis in the plaza, and he’d shown it in bed last night.
He’d thought at first that their emotionally intense sex had been the adrenaline aftermath hitting Christian hard. But it had shifted and become so achingly tender, he’d had an errant urge to weep while they’d made love. It had seemed as if Christian was trying to communicate silently to Stone all the things neither of them dared to say out loud.
Hell, he’d been shaken by the accident too. He had enough combat experience working with close-air-support aircraft to know how near a miss it had been. A thousand people had been in that plaza. They all owed that pilot a huge debt for keeping the helicopter airborne long enough to get everyone out of the way before it autorotated to the ground. What a clusterfuck it would have been otherwise.
Speaking of clusterfucks, it seemed they’d pulled off a second public appearance of faux-Jack Lacey successfully. But honestly, he wasn’t sure their luck would hold for much longer. The bastard needed to get back here and resume his regularly scheduled life pretty damned quick or the jig would be up.
To that end, he paused a mile or so down the beach from the hotel and put in a call to Pere Cardiffe at Wild Cards. “Hey, it’s Stone. What’s the word on our missing senator?”
“The Wrastle Castle still has not made landfall. All our efforts to relay a message to the senator by way of the ship’s captain have been unsuccessful.”
“Meaning that the captain won’t relay the message or that Lacey won’t respond?”
“The latter.”
Having lived in the bastard’s shoes for a few days, he had a better understanding of the allure of fame and constant attention that must draw Jack to politics. Perhaps an appeal to jealousy and ego might sway the man.
“Has anyone tried telling him that a body double is doing a better job at being him than him? If you tell him a security guard is hogging all of his attention, media interviews, and women, he might come running back to Miami to stop it.”
Pere laughed at the other end of the phone. “It’s worth a try. At this point I have no better ideas. As long as the yacht stays in international waters, everybody’s hands are tied.”
“Please tell me this is the strangest job you guys have ever taken.”
Another laugh out of Pere. “I don’t know. We’ve got a weird one unfolding in Gibraltar. But you’re right up there.”
“Sometimes it sucks being the special one.” Pere laughed yet again and Stone added, “Good luck baiting Lacey to get his ass back here.”
“Good luck continuing to be him.”
Stone snorted and disconnected the call. Jack Lacey could use a good old-fashioned ass-kicking for the hassles he was causing a whole lot of decent people. He pocketed his phone and continued back toward the hotel as the sun came up in a blazing ball of red.
His thoughts turned back to Christian and the intense lovemaking they’d shared last night. An overwhelming desire to do that again rolled over him. In fact, he could do that a whole bunch of times and never grow tired of it or of the man himself.
No doubt about it. He’d fallen, and fallen hard, for Christian.
He was almost back to the hotel when another runner came toward him on the beach, tall and athletic, moving with the efficient, ground-eating strides of a hard-core runner. With a start he recognized Christian.
As they drew near, he drew breath to give a cheerful greeting. He was feeling a million times better after getting some exercise. But then he caught Christian’s thunderous expression and came to a full stop.
“What in the bloody hell are you doing out here all by yourself?” Christian ground out.
“Running,” he answered cautiously.
“In the first place, Jack doesn’t run.”
“But I’m not wearing Jack makeup. I’m being me.”
“At a distance, you still bear a striking resemblance to the man,” Christian snapped. “And in the second place, what possessed you to come out here alone?”
“Why not? No assassin’s going to be out looking for Jack on the beach, and certainly not at this time of day. Like you said, he doesn’t run.”
“And yet you’re not the only person out here. You could be seen.”
“I don’t see how that’s a problem—”
“That’s because you have no idea how rapacious the press really is. Not to mention most of them hate Jack’s guts.”
“I don’t see a mob of reporters anywhere, Christian. It’ll be okay,” he soothed. “Hell, it’s barely sunrise. They’re all still in bed asleep. I would tell you not to overreact if I didn’t know how infuriating it is to be told that when you’re freaking out a little. Just breathe for me. Okay?”
Christian took a step closer and confessed, “When I woke up and you were gone, I freaked out a little. Last night was a lot.”
Was he talking about their sex, or about the mess at the fundraiser?
“Did you think I was running away from you?” he blurted, equal parts pleasantly surprised and dismayed that he’d upset Christian.
Christian mumbled something unintelligible.
He would take that as a yes. Stone said forcefully, “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, man. I’m not running away from you or avoiding you! I’m out here trying to wrap my mind around what’s happening between us. It’s overwhelming to me… in a good way, I might add.”
Their gazes met, Christian’s troubled and his incredulous.
“For real?” Christian asked doubtfully.
“Don’t be an idiot,” he said fondly. He leaned in, grabbed Christian by the back of the neck and laid a quick, hard, smoking-hot kiss on him that was more tonsillectomy than smooch.
Forehead to forehead with Christian, he mumbled, “I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with you, and we have a lot of shit to sort out, but I’m not pulling a runner on you. I promise.”
Christian went very still, absorbing his words.
It felt as if Christian was testing the truth of what he’d said. He relaxed against Stone. Please God, let him have h
eard the honesty in Stone’s statement.
“Later,” Christian said low. “After this is all over.”
“Deal.”
They kissed once more to seal the deal, and then Christian stepped back and looked around furtively.
Stone commented wryly, parroting back the man’s words from the first time they met. “This is South Beach, dude. No one’s worried about a little PDA between a couple of guys on the beach.”
“Still. We can’t be too careful.”
“So, I still feel pretty good. You wanna go a few miles with me?” Stone asked.
“While I’d love to take you up on that because Lord knows I do need the stress relief, we’d better get you back to the hotel before someone sees you and thinks you’re Jack.”
Stone grinned as they turned to walk back toward the hotel. “I maintain that we should run back. That way, when the real Jack returns, he’ll have to take up jogging to cover up for his absence.”
Christian cracked up. “I’d pay good money to see him slogging up and down this beach.”
“We should think up a few more things for me to do as him that’ll torment him when he resumes being himself.”
“Remind me never to well and truly piss you off, Stone. You’ve got a mean streak in you.”
“Only where people who’ve treated you badly are concerned.”
Christian grinned lopsidedly at him. “Maybe we can find another way to blow off a little of your stress besides running out here? And I could use a shower somewhere in there, while we’re at it.”
“Is that so?” Stone replied, a grin breaking across his face.
CHRISTIAN’S NEAR heart failure at waking up to an empty bed had mostly calmed by the time the two of them emerged from a steaming and very lengthy shower that involved a great deal of soap suds and slippery sex.
Stone was in an expansively good mood, and Christian was feeling pretty damned skippy himself. They sat down to go over the day’s itinerary.
“Okay, so we can safely cancel your golf-tournament appearance after last night’s fiasco.”
