by Holley Trent
The young man gulped and reached for her bag handle. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I just follow the rules.”
She sighed and pushed her arms into the lightweight sweater she’d had hanging on the doorknob. “I don’t mean to make your job more difficult, but I thought I had some more time. I won’t bother trying to get a taxi.”
The young man nodded sagely and looked at Ken.
Ken got the drift: time to go.
He grabbed the keycard from the dresser and followed the bellman and Olivia out to the hallway. He put his hand at the small of her back and didn’t let go of her until she’d climbed up into the van, still looking somewhat perplexed by the schedule change.
His phone buzzed and buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it to steal one last kiss. He didn’t care that he was blocking the door for that people were waiting to get in. He pressed his hands to her cheeks and kissed her hard, desperately, until she grabbed his collar and whispered against his lips, “Tell Clint I said goodbye, too, okay?”
He didn’t want to say goodbye, but he nodded all the same. “I’ll tell him, Liv. Be safe.”
She gave him one last peck on the lips and slid over to the window. “I will.”
He backed out of the van and out of the way of the departing guests. Then he stood there on the path, watching until he could no longer see the van that had set out down the oak-lined lane. He pulled his phone out of his pocket.
All done. Where are you? Where’s O?
“Gone,” Ken said to no one. “She’s gone.”
CHAPTER NINE
Shit. She was gone. Just like that, she was gone.
Why did he have to be so fucking selfish? Ken had texted him to hurry, but he thought he had more time before Olivia had to leave. Ken wasn’t able to proposition Olivia alone, nor should he have had to.
During his walk the previous day, Henri Beaudelaire had intercepted Clint. The hotel had been approached about sponsoring a minor league baseball team, and a shitty one at that. Henri had wanted to know if giving the team funds could hurt his brand, and Clint had promised he’d talk to him about it in the morning. He hadn’t wanted to say no, because Henri was an important connection to have. Henri was extensively networked, and not just in the hospitality industry. Clint never knew when he’d need a favor, and as he didn’t want to burn bridges, he went.
Leaving the bed after forcing O into a delirious haze so he could make that meeting on time had been a massive error in judgment on his part. He should have stayed there for the aftercare. In the back of his mind, he’d known Ken would take care of her, but it wasn’t just Ken’s job. Why that man put up with his shit, he didn’t know, but Clint was glad he did.
Clint needed to get better, or he’d never be able to have what he so desperately wanted. To keep the man he loved. But it would serve him right if Ken ran off with someone like Olivia. Someone who could make him laugh.
But they’d come to this place because Clint had needs, too, and Olivia filled them. Because he’d been so caught up in his role as the dominant, he’d failed to explain he often kept sex separate from emotion. Ken was able to merge the two. He made sex about love, but that was harder for Clint. He didn’t know what making love meant until that night he’d taken Ken home eleven years ago.
Sometimes he slipped back into those old habits, when he was so desperate to lock away his weaknesses.
Olivia had made him weak, because he wanted her not just for him, but for Ken, too. Maybe it was good she’d had to go, because it meant she couldn’t refuse him. He wouldn’t have to hear her tell them no.
“Baby?”
Ken filled the doorway and cast Clint a speculative look.
Clint fixed his gaze on the bathroom’s partially steamed mirror. He’d gone to the gym after meeting Henri to work off some of his anxiety, so he had to shower again. If he’d refused the meeting he hadn’t wanted to attend in the first place, he wouldn’t have missed O or the breakfast they’d shared.
Maybe if he’d known she’d be leaving so fucking early…
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
He shook his head and hung it low.
“Fuck.”
Ken sighed. “Baby, what is it?” He stepped behind Clint and hooked his chin over Clint’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Clint relaxed into Ken’s hug and sighed as he studied his scruffy face in the mirror. Back when he was playing ball, he’d preferred the look and feel of being clean-shaven, but this station in his life brought some laziness in that regard. He was the one behind the camera, not in front of it. Nobody cared if he shaved, not even Ken, who rarely got angry about the small things, and that was one of the reasons Clint loved him. Ken didn’t argue with him just for the thrill of it. He knew how to express himself, so they were both happy with the outcome. If they’d both been demanding and opinionated, the relationship wouldn’t have worked so well.
“I really stepped in it this time,” Clint said. “I fucked up. I’m so angry with myself.”
“Hmm.” Ken skimmed his fingers down Clint’s abdomen then rested them near his flaccid cock. He pulled in a sharp breath and straightened his spine as Ken nudged his erection against Clint and ground against him.
Did they ever embrace without things escalating to sex? Couldn’t they just talk without the physical element?
Ken’s hot lips at the crook of Clint’s neck reminded him that while they could, this way was better. This was their love language. Without the sensuality, the touching, Clint couldn’t find his calm, levelheaded place.
Ken dipped his right hand lower and cupped Clint’s cock then rubbed the head beneath his thumb. He encircled Clint’s sac with his other hand and alternated squeezing it with giving gentle tugs. “I don’t know why you think that,” Ken whispered and skimmed his lips up the side of Clint’s neck. “Perhaps you need some perspective.”
Clint closed his eyes and forced out a long breath. His tight grip on the counter edge made his cramped fingers go numb, but he was afraid to let go. If he did, he’d turn around and take control, and right now, Ken needed to be in control. He needed to bring Clint down, to soothe the beast. And Clint needed a reminder he couldn’t force everything. Gentleness and patience had their place in relationships, too.
“Maybe you didn’t insult her as much as you think. She didn’t seem upset when she left, just…sad. Trust me. Baby, you’re intense and abrupt, but you didn’t scare me off, right?”
“I don’t mean just me and that meeting. And when I met you was different. I didn’t…go where I could have. I didn’t ask to choke you or anything close to that for months.”
Ken moved his hands so he was working Clint’s shaft. He opened his eyes and saw Ken reaching for the container of lube someone had left uncapped.
Left up to their own devices, both of them would want to top, and more often than not, Clint won. Ken was a skillful lover, both gentle and possessing, so Clint had no doubts they’d both be happy, but ceding control had always made Clint uncomfortable. It was something he and Ken had worked on little by little over the past eleven years.
“Maybe you’re not remembering what I do, then. There was definitely some pain involved by our fourth date. I think you even broke my skin.” Ken asked as he released Clint’s cock and dipped his head.
A moment later, Ken worked his slick fingers down and swirled his index finger around Clint’s anus. He pressed his finger in, then another, and Clint bore down on him.
God, it hadn’t been that long since he’d let Ken touch him this way, had it?
He moaned along with Ken’s purposeful probing and spread his feet farther apart. Ken withdrew his fingers and pressed his cock against Clint. Teasing but not breaching.
“It was different, because you’re a man,” Clint said. “And it wouldn’t be difficult for you to fight back if you felt threatened.”
“I trusted you not to go too far.”
“But I can’t expect that from her. I shouldn’t have touched her that way and then
just took off.”
“She said yes, Clint. She wasn’t angry afterward, or regretful. Just spent.”
“I left the bed. I didn’t stay with her until the adrenaline crashed and all the happy shit wore off. I fucked her like it was going to be my last screw ever then left the bed to clean my cock. How do you think she feels?”
“I was there, baby.” Ken worked this cockhead inside Clint, who growled through clenched teeth and resisted the natural urge to pull away.
“I held her,” Ken whispered. He gripped Clint’s hips and held him still as he fought for each centimeter of Clint’s ass. Never again would Clint go so long without letting Ken top him. That first marauding push always felt like he was being de-virginized. Then Ken gave Clint’s cock a sharp tug. He was in as far as he could go, and Clint finally let go of that damned counter.
He reached around Ken’s body to feel for his ass, hoping to urge him on to really give it to him. But Ken grabbed his wrists and pressed Clint’s palms flat atop the counter.
He pushed Clint’s torso down with his chest and nudged his feet even farther apart. As Ken leaned onto him, he whispered, “I held her, Clint. Do you want to know what she said? What she did?”
He eased out of Clint’s ass slowly and pulled everything out but his head before forcing himself back in with one hard, slick thrust.
“Fuck!” Clint splayed his fingers atop the counter, wishing he could scratch and claw at something more forgiving. Legs shaking, he pushed up onto his toes when Ken freed his hand and tugged on Clint’s cock again.
“She let me put my arm around her, and she asked what our bed was like back home. She asked me if we had real adult furniture in our bedroom or whether we lived like bachelors with unmatched odds and ends.” He gripped Clint’s hips tightly and as Ken increased the length of his strokes and frequency of thrusts, the breath tickling Clint’s neck went ragged. “She wanted to know which of us slept on which side of the bed and who gets up first.”
Clint pressed his chest against the cool countertop and slid one hand down to his cock. With each punishing thrust from Ken, he squeezed and tugged. He felt his core tighten with a delicious pain for want of release.
Ken laced his left fingers through Clint’s hair and grabbed what he could while setting his teeth to Clint’s jaw. He bit down ever so lightly then said, “She wanted to know which of us drives most often and which of us prefers riding shotgun.”
Clint drew in a much-needed breath. He always forgot about breathing when pleasure mounted like this. Then he forced his eyes open.
Ken pulled back and set his hands on Clint’s hips. He’d stopped his thrusting for the moment, obviously waiting for some sort of response.
“Why did she ask you all that? It’s so inane.”
“It’s not inane. I think she was trying to figure out where she’d fit in.”
“We wouldn’t have to try to fit her in. She’d just fit.”
“I know that, baby, but put yourself in her shoes.” Ken leaned in once more, and this time took Clint’s mouth in a crushing kiss that was both dominating and teasing. That was one of the things Clint loved most about him. He never liked things getting too heavy, and maybe that was why O was so taken with him, too. He’d put her at ease. Hadn’t asked her to do anything too hard or too soon. That had been Clint’s foul-up.
When Ken pulled back, Clint said, “She must hate me now. After what I did.”
“We’ll go find her. I’m sure the shuttle driver knows what airline she flew out on.”
Clint closed his eyes again, and all the tension he’d been holding in his spine melted away with relief. “Yes, we’ll have to find her.”
“We will.” Ken swiveled his hips, thus imparting new sensations to his lovemaking, and when he started thrusting again, he was gentler.
His kisses down the back of Clint’s neck, and this addition of his hands on Clint’s cock, sent him over the edge. Ken held Clint’s cock until he’d caught every drop of ejaculate and sighed as he removed himself.
“I think we have time for a shower. Then we go.”
CHAPTER TEN
How the hell did they find me?
Olivia wrapped her fingers around the cylinder of paper Clint had given her and sank onto the hard plastic seat near her departure gate. As she pulled her rolling carry-on bag closer, she cleared her throat and forced herself to look at Clint’s weary face.
He looked at her as if she’d broken his heart somehow.
Ken squatted in front of her with his forearms draped over his thighs.
“D.C. is a bit past your stop, isn’t it, boys?” She held up the paper. They didn’t come all this way to exchange phone numbers. Hell, if they’d wanted that, they could have done it before she’d left.
Clint opened his mouth, but before he could get words out, she pressed her index finger against his lips.
“The truth, Clint.”
He nodded, and she withdrew her finger. “The truth is I want…everything.”
Ken squeezed her knee and drew her attention away from Clint’s brooding stare. “Not just him, but both of us. We want everything.”
“What?”
A young family with a toddler took the seats just across from them, and Olivia lowered her voice to a whisper. “That’s decidedly out of the blue.”
Ken flinched and pulled his hand back. He stuffed it into the pocket of his sweatshirt and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “I guess it would seem that way, but we didn’t go to The Beaudelaire looking for a forgettable hookup. If that’s what we wanted, it wouldn’t have taken us five days to take a woman back to our room.”
“What are you telling me?”
“I—”
The toddler hovered nearby while gnawing his thumb and staring doe-eyed at Ken. Ken’s piercings and colorful tattoos were probably fascinating to the tot, but all the same, Olivia wished his parents would take him away. Immediately. They were having a grownup conversation, and she had some words banked up that weren’t meant for an under-eighteen audience.
“Look, can we go get a room somewhere and talk?” Ken asked.
“I’m sorry, but I’m on the next flight out of this gate. I need to be on it to connect to the one I’m due to serve on tonight. Besides,” she said and held up the rolled paper, “I have your phone numbers and email addresses. I’ll be in touch.”
“You’re lying,” Clint said through gritted teeth. “You’re fucking lying. As soon as it’s convenient, you’re going to pitch that paper into the trash, and we’ll never hear from you.”
He was right. That had been the plan. After the sadness had worn off, she’d gotten pissed. She knew she didn’t have the right to be, because the men didn’t owe her anything. They hadn’t led her on or promised her anything, but still, she was pissed. They’d made her feel disposable.
Clint stood and put his body between Olivia and the ogling kid.
Ken sighed, grabbed Olivia’s hand, and pointed to her suitcase. “Get that, Clint.”
Without another word, he pulled her behind him at a supersonic pace and didn’t slow down until they’d passed the dense mass of bodies near the phone charging stations. When they neared the terminal’s bar, Ken wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to a quiet booth in the corner. Then he put her on the inside and pinned her in.
Clint dragged the suitcase to the tableside and retreated to the bar.
“Listen,” Ken said. He wrapped his rough, mechanic’s hands around Olivia’s shaking ones and caressed the tops with his thumbs. “A lot happened in less than a day, and I guess we weren’t prepared for it to come to an end like that. Clint and I, we figured we’d have some more time to make a decision, and…negotiate.”
“Negotiate?”
“Yeah. Not me and Clint, though. Us and, well, you.”
What did he mean?
Clint slid a tall, frosty stein of beer to Ken and returned to the bar. He seemed to be pointedly avoiding her, and the very thought made her indig
nant. He returned with some sort of fruity cocktail, which he slid in front of Olivia. He had his own stein.
She nodded at the drink. “What’s that?”
“Cranberry juice and 7-Up. Figured you shouldn’t get wasted before having to board a flight with your coworkers.”
She could have used a stiff drink, but all the same, she took a sip and studied Clint over the rim of her glass.
He twirled his thumbs and stared at the faux wood tabletop. Bashful all of a sudden? Why? She looked to Ken for an answer.
Ken sighed and gave Clint’s hand a swipe. “We don’t really have the luxury of time here, baby,” he said when Clint looked up.
“I know, I’m just…trying to figure out what I could say that would be enough.
She set down her drink. “Enough for what? Tell me, and maybe I can give you some pointers.”
“Just lay it out, Clint. Simple English, like that night eleven years ago when you took me home. Do you remember what you said to me?”
Clint scoffed. “I said a lot of things I probably should have gotten punched for.”
“True.” Ken chuckled and finally relaxed a bit. “But you were so damn ballsy, it was clear to me you knew exactly what you wanted, and that confidence made me want to find out what you were about. Tell her what you said to me.”
Clint laced his fingers behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “If memory serves me correctly, I believe I told you the idea of you being in anyone else’s bed was rather sickening and that you should come warm mine.”
“Mm-hmm.” Ken turned to Olivia. “Mind you, his team was on the road at the time, and I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
“And you went back to his room?”
Clint rolled his eyes. “Fuck, no. He thought I was playing, and when he didn’t show up by two a.m., I had to go track his fucking ass down just like we tracked you down. Lucky for me, he was still at the bar.”
Olivia knew her eyes must have been wide as saucers, but she couldn’t help expressing her surprise. That must have been what made him such a successful athlete. His willingness to take risks. “You’re incredibly bold, Mr. Morstad.”
