by Cameron Dane
“Can I—” Stop it. Don't even think about asking. Marek will kick you right out the door and never let you back in. Remember, he doesn't have the advantage of the dreams you've lived with all this time, so he is on shaky footing in this thing. “—get you something while I'm up? I need a glass of water.” Colin bit his cheek and stifled the burn to know more about Marek and his past. He stood and quickly pulled a tumbler from the cabinet, walked to the sink, averting his face while he regrouped.
“I'm good with what I have here.”
Colin kept his head down and his eyes off the window, looking only at the sink while he turned the knob on a water purifier attachment and filled his glass. “I'll just be a second.” Standing at the sink, Colin gulped down every drop of water and filled the glass again. His heart rate finally slowed to a natural rhythm, and he joined Marek at the table once more. “Okay, so, second set of owners. American couple. He was some rich fat cat dude with a whole lot of money, and the wife was number three, the realtor believes. I got all the information about the second couple from her, the one who sold you the house.” Colin remembered his pleasure yesterday at the thought of poking Marek with whatever he found; now, he worried the inside of his cheek to the point of drawing blood. “You probably don't think it was very cool of me to go searching for all this stuff behind your back.”
His plate empty, Marek leaned back in his chair. He remained silent for an uncomfortably long stretch of time, rolling his bottle of beer between his hands. “I believe you've had these dreams you say you have, so I can understand why you want some answers.”
Thank you, God. A torrent of relief rushed over Colin, stealing away a weight from his shoulders he hadn't even realized was there. “Anything I find out about you will come from you.” His hands trembled, and he swirled a chunk of bread in olive oil to cover it up. “I will not go searching secondary sources to get those questions answered. I promise you that.”
Marek dipped his head. “So you've said. Go ahead and tell me about the previous owners.”
“According to your realtor, the wife of the second couple was considerably younger than her husband, and she had him by the dick, so to speak. The realtor's father was the original handler for the house, and he trained his two daughters to take over his business one day. Which they did, much to their mother's dismay, who wanted either one or both of them to land a wealthy visitor to the islands.” Colin caught himself about to yammer on some more, stopped, and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, that was off track. We got to talking about other things while chatting about the history of the house.”
“You seem to have that way about you.”
Marek's comment nicked at Colin's confidence, and he frowned. “What way?”
“The way that gets people revealing private things about themselves as if they've known you forever.”
Colin sat up a little straighter, covering his reaction to the painful jab. “I'm not sure if that's a compliment or a searing judgment.”
“It's just a statement based on observation.” Marek lifted his attention from the table, and a hint of faraway softness crept into his stare and voice. “I can remember you being similar when we were teenagers.” He paused as soon as the words left his lips, shook his head, and Colin heard him growl the start of a curse. Abruptly, Marek stood and collected their empty plates. “Never mind. It doesn't mean anything. I shouldn't even have said it. Just finish your story.”
“Ah, okay.” As Marek rinsed off their dishes, Colin studied his rigid back and jerky hand movements. Thick lines of muscle moved under his sun-darkened skin, and his trunks sat low on his hips, teasing Colin into thinking he might get a glimpse of something more. God, I bet he has the tightest, most amazing, fuckable ass. Colin's cock stirred, responding to the direction of his thoughts. He remembered that last dream, where Marek offered himself to Colin for the taking. Colin swallowed a groan as he got to his feet, and he made it halfway to Marek with the full intention of slipping in behind him and pushing those swim trunks to the kitchen floor. A few nights away from his dreams, and Colin already missed the feel of Marek's hard body against his.
Colin reached out, saw his own fingers nearly graze the small of Marek's back, and just in time snatched his hand away. No. This is not your dreams. He isn't ready. Colin tore his gaze away and turned, busying himself by walking to the open back door. A storm door with a screened upper half kept the bugs out, but the waft of sweet, tropical flowers and damp, rich earth tickled Colin's nose. Again, the sense of belonging reared itself, and the floor vibrated beneath his feet.
Lifting one foot then the other, Colin turned to Marek. “Did you feel that?”
Marek glanced up from drying his hands on a towel. “Feel what?”
“Never mind.” He already thinks I'm crazy enough, no point in adding to it. “So,” Colin started again, “with the second couple, the husband was totally smitten with his wife, really all out there proclaiming his love for her. He gave her everything, including this house, which she loved on sight and wanted for her own. He bought it for her, and while they didn't live here, they came often for vacations. The wife sometimes came without him. One day, the husband decided to surprise his wife with a visit and found a couple of local guys balling her, right on the floor of their living room. Some of the rest is speculation, a lot of 'this person told this person, who found out from that person' but, the general thought is the wife was pretty arrogant at first, laughing in the husband's face, comparing his ability as a lover to her other men.”
“I bet the guy didn't like hearing that,” Marek said. He moved in beside Colin, immediately charging and heating the already warm air around them. Leaning his shoulder against the side of the fridge, Marek stared through the screen. Colin followed his gaze to the mountain beyond. “Even the biggest asshole has pride and likely wouldn't enjoy walking in on two men fucking his pretty young trophy wife.”
“Especially if she was loudly enjoying it. She had some staff here,” Colin explained, “and they talked. The husband was shrewd, and she was either stupidly naive or ridiculously arrogant, because the only thing she wanted was this house, and she let her lawyer know it. She played her hand, and the husband made sure she never got it. He supposedly actually really loved her, and when he found out she was never faithful to him, it became his purpose to make her suffer. He dragged the divorce out and made it long and ugly, kicked her out of this house, and made sure to keep it so there was no possible way she could ever step foot in it again.”
Marek grimaced. “The man meant business.”
Nodding, Colin rubbed his arms, absorbing the cruelty and cold riddled throughout the tale. He moved away from the door and sat back down, his legs suddenly feeling a little unsteady. Marek followed, taking his seat, and his warmth abated Colin's unease enough to continue. “His plan certainly wasn't rational, but I guess revenge isn't. Only, see, the husband didn't live in the house either. He fired everyone who worked here and left the house sitting, empty, rotting, and dying, all to keep it out of her hands. He kept it until she died five years ago, then put it on the market for some astronomical price, not really caring if it sold.” He met Marek's gaze, and his heart thudded at the open interest he found there. “At least that's what your realtor thinks. She believes he didn't really want it to sell and that he was still in love with the ex, all these years later. It was the realtor's job to keep pushing the house though. Then you came along…”
“And gave him the asking price without negotiation.” Marek didn't so much as blush at the confession. “I guess he couldn't refuse.”
Can I? Should I? Biting the bullet, Colin blurted, “Why did you buy it?”
“Truth?”
Relief wobbled Colin's tight smile. “Yeah.”
“It was available, she showed it to me first, and it was secluded enough that I knew I would be alone.” Darkness clouded Marek's eyes, and a roughness Colin was already accustomed to hearing took over his voice. “I didn't need it to be or do any more than
that.”
“And here I come barging in on your solitude, making outrageous claims, and disturbing your peace.”
“Yeah, that you did.” Nothing in Marek looked remotely pleased.
Colin leaned into the rejection, absorbing the emotional bruising that knocked him in the gut. This can't be my destiny if only half of us wants it. “Right. Listen.” Standing, he forced himself to hold his head high. “I think it'll be a damn sight harder, but I will figure out these dreams without bothering you anymore. I can see that's what you want.” Fuck. I will not hang around where I'm not wanted. “Thank you for your time.” He spun from the table and speed-walked across the kitchen.
“Wait.” Marek caught up to Colin in two steps and grabbed his arm, burning Colin's flesh. Tugging, he turned Colin around. “I apologize. I'm not used to a lot of the social niceties anymore. I didn't mean to make you feel bad.”
“I won't lie; it stung to hear,” Colin admitted. “Maybe because deep down I know it's the truth. I did barge in here and disrupt your life. Regardless of the powerful dreams I've been having and what I want to know about them, I really had no right.”
“Listen, what's done is done. You're here, and so now I'm involved in trying to figure this out too.” Marek's face still held all blunt, unforgiving edges, but his eyes lost some of the hardness. “How about I take you out on my boat for a few hours?” he asked. “I can take you to a place where there's a good chance you'll see some bull sharks.” His hand slid down Colin's arm, briefly curling around Colin's wrist, sparking fire and making his breath catch. Marek's gaze shot up, and as quickly as it felt almost like a hold, Marek yanked the touch away. “No big deal,” he said. “I'm just giving you today, like you asked, and I agreed.”
Liar.
For just a split second, naked need shone in Marek's eyes. He clearly wasn't ready to admit he wanted Colin's company, but Colin had seen it, and right now, he didn't need anything else.
“Okay.” Smart or not, Colin plastered a big, happy smile on his face. God, he just wanted to spend time with this man. “Let's go see some sharks.”
* * * * *
“Be careful as you head back,” Marek offered from behind Colin. “Twilight on the water can be tricky.”
Colin tossed his towel and trunks in his speedboat and turned to face Marek. Against the backdrop of his home and the early evening sun casting him half in the shade, Marek made an imposing figure in fresh blue jeans and a khaki shirt.
They had spent more time together on Marek's boat than Colin could have hoped. After a sweaty day out in the searing sun, Marek had even invited Colin to use his shower so he could change into some clean clothes. Colin had hung around while Marek did the same, trying to stretch the day just a little bit longer. His feet did not want to leave this dock, but he knew if he waited too much longer, he would get caught driving the boat back to Vanua Levu in the dark. Colin still had a million things he wanted to say and ask Marek, but all of them stayed trapped in the back of his throat.
Marek looked to the water and then the sky. “You should probably get going.”
“I know. I will. Thank you for today.” Uncertain and a little bit scared, Colin held back, when everything in him wanted to rush Marek and hold him close. “I had an amazing time.” With you.
“Yeah, it was good.” A little smile pulled at the edge of Marek's mouth, making Colin's chest squeeze. “It was a nice afternoon.”
“It was.” Aching to get close one more time, Colin walked to where Marek stood and got almost close enough for their fronts to touch. Breathing became a little more difficult in this proximity, but when Colin lifted his gaze and met Marek's blue, blue eyes, he decided he could happily live with a little breathlessness around this man. “Thank you for believing me. And for not running me off your island.”
“It's all right.” Marek's tone dropped to a sandpaper whisper, and his pupils widened, nearly eclipsing the blue. “I don't know what I can do, but if I can help you figure some of it out, I will.”
“Thank you. Have a good night.” Leaning in—oh God, I have to know—Colin pressed a kiss against Marek's cheek. His lips lingered on warm skin, and his chin rubbed against the softness of Marek's beard. Inhaling the light fragrance of soap and toothpaste, Colin grazed his cheek and jaw over Marek's, closing his eyes as he slowly searched and found Marek's mouth with his. Their breath mingled, and feeling a tremble, Colin wasn't sure if it came from him or Marek. Scraping a kiss there, clinging for just a moment, Colin whispered, “I'll see you tomorrow. I don't think I can stay away.” Tasting one more time, Colin kept his head down as he pulled away. He drove off without another word, the feel of Marek still on his lips.
Colin didn't look back. Not right now. Not after kissing Marek. It would have crushed him to find horror in the other man's eyes.
Tomorrow would be soon enough for answers.
Chapter Eight
Hardly even a kiss, yet the caress of Colin's lips on Marek's lingered, making them absurdly sensitive, still, more than twelve hours later as he brushed his teeth the next morning.
Marek had stood on the dock while hunger raced through him—frightening in its intensity—as he absorbed Colin's kiss and caress. He hadn't touched or been inside anyone in two and a half years, and his body wanted to mate, even if he wasn't sure his heart was ready for the entanglement. Having sex with Colin would be more than a mere physical act of relief; Marek already understood that, even if he didn't have a clue about the cause of the man's bizarre dreams.
He spit toothpaste into the sink and rinsed his mouth out with a swirl of water. While wiping a hand towel across his lips, drying them, the terrycloth pulled on his lower lip. Marek immediately pictured Colin's mouth doing the same and groaned as his cock stirred, rising from a patch of dark hair. He watched his erection grow in the reflection of the mirror, and a pearl of lubricant form on the tip. Reaching down, Marek stroked his length, hissing at the full rigidity already straining his penis. He'd given himself a handjob hundreds of times during his time alone on this island, but it had been a long time since he'd been so hard it almost hurt to touch himself.
He pumped a dollop of lotion from a bottle sitting on the basin and rubbed it all over his prick, taking a second to feel the raised veins and thick head, and to reach under and fondle his high, tight balls. Through the rush of sharp desire in touching himself, Marek wondered if Colin would find his body attractive. A soft kiss was one thing, and Colin said they'd had sex many times in his dreams, but as Marek worked his dick in his fist, he burned to know how deeply Colin would suck him off, or if he would cry with pleasure or shy away when he really had Marek's dick pounding aggressively in his ass.
Marek planted one hand on the bathroom sink, and his eyelids slid to half-mast as his cock throbbed in his hand, eager to find another man's hole and push inside. A picture of Colin materialized in his mind, and Marek's heart rate increased with the speed of his hand whipping over his dick. Naked as the day God put him on this earth, Colin emerged from the ocean, beckoning Marek closer with nothing more than his beautiful body and probing green eyes. His sun-kissed golden skin glistened with moisture, and his muscles bunched and released in efficient lines as he walked out of the water onto the white sand of Marek's beach. His penis jutted out big and proud, and Colin made no effort to hide it from Marek's open stare.
Suddenly, the image faded with the glitter of a mirage. Marek cried out, not yet ready to let the other man go. His too-hard cock ached and pulsed in his hand, and his balls sat lodged snug against his body, but no matter how fast or hard Marek yanked on his dick, release would not set him free.
“Please.” His voice raspy, Marek blinked at the agonized, base picture he made in the mirror, in pain with the need to come. “Help me.”
When Marek opened his eyes again, a phantom image of Colin leaned over the sink, his lust-filled gaze finding Marek's in the reflection. Bent over, Colin had one hand on the steamy bathroom mirror, fingers wide open, making streak
s in the foggy glass. He had his other in a reach around with two fingers buried in his own ass, working himself open with a scissoring motion. Before Marek could salivate over the hot spectacle, Colin withdrew his digits from his pucker, pushed back, and rubbed his crease right along the length of Marek's rearing cock, pushing him over the edge.
Marek rammed his penis into Colin's willing ass, mounting him in one deep thrust, and took Colin's burning passage to the hilt. He covered Colin's hand on the mirror, found equal wanting in the other man's stare, and got lost in it. With a surge of emotion, Marek lost control of his body and dumped his seed in Colin's tight ass. He pumped his hips, one, two, three times, filling Colin with cum; on the fourth, Marek's legs weakened. He blinked…and found himself braced against the mirror over the sink alone. His semen pooled on the counter and dripped over the lip, a line slowly streaking the wood as it made its way to the floor.
Disturbed by the power of his orgasm, and by how naturally his thoughts sought out Colin, Marek cleaned up the bathroom and washed his spent cock without looking in the mirror again. Moving into his bedroom, he gathered clothes and dressed himself on routine, never much changing up or worrying about what he wore. As he fastened his belt, the brushed silver surface of the buckle itself weakened his legs and had him stumbling to the bed.
Not long after they met, Payton had teased Marek mercilessly about the one ratty brown belt in his wardrobe, something Payton had the advantage of seeing very closely on the first two occasions of them meeting. Marek insisted he wouldn't waste money on a new belt when the one he had held his jeans up perfectly fine. After they started seeing each other, Payton had given him a gift: two new belts, one black and one brown, but told him he had fond memories of undoing the old one and not to throw it away.
Today, Marek wore the brown one Payton had given him. The old one was six feet in the ground in Pittsburgh with his dead lover.
