A Matter of Time 07 - Parting Shot (MM)

by Mary Calmes

  I reached for him, but he walked backward beyond my reach.

  “Now.”

  “It’s no big deal; it’s the same thing he’s been saying for weeks. I just forgot to block him from my phone. I did it on my e-mail but—”

  “For weeks? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Because we share things.”

  “Yeah.” I was indignant. “Important things.”

  “No, all things, every little bit. I want to know it all.”

  We were silent, him waiting, me weighing my options.

  I sighed deeply. “Okay.”

  “Okay, good. So can I hear the message?”

  “You think I keep that shit?” I chuckled.

  “Well then, what did he say?”

  I made a show of closing one eye in concentration.

  “Duncan!”

  “It’s just the same old bullshit.” I shrugged. “I’m going to hell. I’m making him the laughingstock of his community, and he and my stepmother are ashamed they ever took me in.”

  “Oh, for––”

  “He also said he wished Ian had lived instead of me, and that Ian is probably rolling over in his grave at this very moment.”

  Aaron lunged at me.

  “This is why I didn’t wanna tell ya.” I grinned into his hair, hugging him back as tight and hard as he hugged me.

  “I… Duncan….”

  “Honey,” I soothed him. “He’s full of shit. I know that, and you know that. The shit with my brother is where he knows he can make me bleed. But Ian was my champion; he would’ve never let me down. Gay, straight, black, white, or blue, Ian would’ve said, ‘Just be happy, Dunc’.”

  Aaron shivered in my embrace, his mouth opening against my throat.

  “So again, it’s on me for not blocking his number. I have no one to blame but myself.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I promise I’m all right. He’s exactly how I knew he would be if he ever found out. I’ve been prepared for this since I moved out.”

  Aaron released a deep breath and then took a step back from me.

  “Hey, come on, lighten up. I mean, imagine how weird it would have been if he was all ‘live and let live’ about it. I might’ve died of a fuckin’ heart attack.”

  He was really attempting to look better for me, trying to perk up.

  “You know,” I purred, “if you play your cards right, I might let you play pirate with me later.”

  “I don’t know if I’m in the mood to—”

  “To what?” I taunted him, rubbing down over my groin, watching him follow my hand with his eyes, the progression slow until—

  “Oh shit,” he gasped painfully, his eyes huge. “Duncan, you’re not wearing any underwear!”

  I cackled. “Yeah, I didn’t put the jock on yet. I wanted you to see the show.”

  “Are you kidding? Your dick is perfectly outlined, and you can see every… I… you can’t go out like that! I forbid it!”

  “I’m not going out like this; I’m putting on a jock, idiot.”

  “Yeah, I don’t… think….”

  “I’m fine about the shit with my father,” I assured him. “I swear. Now come grab me like you mean it.”

  He was on me like prey, shoving me up against the counter, hands down on either side of me, his knee parting my legs.

  “Oh man, I was kidding.” I laughed into his ear. “Did you miss the part where I said we had to hurry?”

  He leaned in to kiss me.

  I lifted and turned my head at the same time. “Knock it off. A hard-on while I’m trying to put on that jock will not help me.”

  “You’re the one killing me,” he cried softly. “Jesus, Duncan, you might as well be naked!”

  I squinted.

  “The shirt is too tight, the breeches are insane, and the boots are just hot. Please take me upstairs and play marauding pirate with me.”

  I snickered. “So you’re a captured banker, and I’ve taken you prisoner?”

  “Yeah, okay, whatever,” he moaned, hands on my hips. “Can we just go there, please?”

  “No,” I said, pushing him back gently but firmly. “People are counting on you showing up tonight.”

  “And you’re gonna go out like that?” he half yelled. “Your picture will be everywhere tomorrow morning, and you’ll—”

  I took his face in my hands. “It’ll be funny, and the guys’ll give me crap… again… but I’m the same as anyone else dressed up in a costume. It’s just this Halloween party is early, and instead of just friends taking pictures, everyone will be.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “It won’t turn into the white party your friend Ron had; it’s a much more upscale event.”

  At a big blowout extravaganza Aaron had taken me to, a party he went to every year and had subsequently vowed never to go to again, some paparazzi had gotten past security and come after me. It was fine until the point one of them got too close and ended up ripping my shirt. We got tangled, I fell, and the guy crashed down on top of me. Blood was really noticeable on all white. Until the moment Aaron came around the corner, the press had no idea he could get quite that mad or move quite that fast. I did; I’d seen the man in action. I ended up having to hold him and tell the reporter to run. Now he only attended parties he himself threw or Miguel accompanied us to.

  “I’ll send a check with Max.”

  “No,” I objected with a laugh. “I gotta go just to hear someone make the booty joke.”

  “What?”

  And an hour later, when we were squinting because of the flashes, one of the reporters yelled, “Hey pirate, show us your booty!” I put out my hands like, of course.

  Clapping, catcalls and whistles, and more flashing lights—enough to momentarily blind me—ensued before I turned and Max was there with one of those big foam-core-mounted checks so everyone could see the five million dollars Sutter was donating to Alzheimer’s research. Unfortunately, even that did not take the interest away from my ass. It was funny, and the press was just having fun. My boyfriend, however, could not find the humor in the situation.

  “That’s it,” Aaron said when we walked inside the gala. “We’re going out the back.”

  I shook my head. “No. We gotta go take our place in line now, and besides, I wanna see Prentiss.”

  He rounded on me. “Why?”

  “Because he’s our step—” Max cricked his neck and made a face at Astrid like she would know what the hell he was asking. “—half brother?”

  “Half, yes,” she confirmed.

  “I get confused with all that.”

  “I know, sweetie.” She sounded playfully patronizing.

  “Yeah. I wanna meet him,” I said, taking hold of Aaron’s hand and tugging him after me. “And you know you’re the big draw here, Sutter. There’s no way you’re leaving.”

  We made it to the line as the first people were coming through, stopping on our way to the end to say hello to Mr. Levin and his wife. Aaron shook his hand, and then it was my turn.

  “Always a pleasure, Detective,” he said warmly, holding my hand in his grip longer than he had Aaron’s. “You remember my wife, Sarah.”

  “I do.” I tilted my head as I regarded her, and both Aaron and the chairman of his board were charmed when she rolled her eyes at me. “You owe me money.”

  She grunted. “It’s only a dollar.”

  “It’s the principle.”

  “Betting on college basketball is against the law, Detective,” she informed me haughtily.

  “Is it?” I taunted.

  “Fine.” She clipped the word. “When we dance later, I’ll give you your money.”

  “I don’t take quarters.”

  She growled under her breath, which made Mr. Levin break out in a huge grin, as Aaron and I walked around Max and Astrid to take our places.

  “You look nice in that,” I complimented Aaron. “What are you supposed t
o be?”

  He was nonplussed. “I’m so obviously Phileas Fogg from Around the World in Eighty Days.”

  I coughed. “Oh, of course.”

  “Are you kidding? This is ninth grade reading here.”

  “You know what they say,” Max chimed in from beside me.

  “No, what do they say?”

  “If you have to explain it”—he winced at his brother—“it’s not good.”

  I coughed again.

  Aaron’s distaste for both of us was evident.

  Most attendees who moved through the line were pleased to meet me and really could have cared less that I was a man. A couple of people were uncomfortable, and a few more were abrupt, but no one was out and out rude to me. It wasn’t smart. Aaron did not take kindly to me being rebuffed. When Max jabbed me in the side with his elbow, I glanced up to see a blond man shaking Astrid’s hand.

  Prentiss Sutter was handsome—all the sons of Gordon were—but he had neither Aaron’s charisma nor Max’s style. I was a little disappointed.

  “So good to finally meet you,” Max lied through his teeth. “Really looking forward to working with you and Father on bringing Armada on board.”

  Prentiss jolted, and Max let his hand go, as the youngest son took two steps and was in front of me, white as a sheet.

  I offered him my hand, and he took it, his head snapped up so our eyes met. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. I’m Duncan Stiel, your brother’s boyfriend.”

  He was mute as he let go of my hand, and then he was in front of Aaron.

  The man I loved took his brother’s hand in his and then covered it with his other. “You and my father began Armada Brokerage three months ago.”

  “What?” He was flustered.

  “Yeah, you don’t have to keep it a secret, as if I didn’t know you were planning to come after Sutter and our clients and whatever else,” Aaron said gently. “I know. My father—your father—what he doesn’t get is that I always know.”

  I put a hand on both men’s backs and moved them just enough out of the way so other people in line would know they were speaking privately. I motioned to Max to take over at the end of the receiving line for the next few minutes.

  “Okay,” Aaron continued. “So a week ago, you merged with Drazan Hess out of Hong Kong.”

  “Yes, we… how—”

  “Drazan Hess is a subsidiary of Sutter.”

  It took him a second to process that.

  “No.”

  “Yes,” Aaron confirmed. “It’s actually Max’s holding company, so he oversees it, but it does still belong to Sutter, and therefore, to me.”

  “I… he doesn’t know.”

  “No, I know,” he comforted the younger man. “But we invited a lot of your board members and senior staff from Armada to this party tonight so they could meet Max and Max’s team because, as of next week, you, my father, and your board will all be working with him.”

  Prentiss did a slow pan so he could see Max.

  “So as soon as we’re done with the meet and greet here, you two can talk.”

  His head swiveled back to Aaron.

  “We changed the seating chart so you would be at our table.”

  Poor kid. He was just absolutely gobsmacked.

  “Or, if you’re uncomfortable staying, you can pull Max aside and make an appointment for you guys to meet privately.”

  “But the board is here, you said, and… people I know.”

  “Yes.”

  He looked like he was about to barf. “You’re being really nice.”

  Aaron put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not nice, but this thing our father has dragged you into, this war with me, is not fair to you.”

  Prentiss listened and that was good.

  “What you should do and what you will do are maybe two different things.”

  “Such as?”

  “Like, you should work with Max and figure out a way to buy the old man out. That would be the best thing for you because eventually Max wants you to run Armada on your own. He likes to invest in start-up companies but he doesn’t want to be there long-term.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now, if you decide you would rather keep faith with the old man, that’s okay too. But in that case, Max will never give you enough shares to threaten his controlling interest. So like I said, it’s really up to you.”

  Prentiss’s eyes, which were darker blue than either Aaron’s turquoise or Max’s violet, were locked on his older brother. “I really do appreciate you having this conversation with me. I was told not to expect it.”

  “Because he told you I was the Antichrist. I know.”

  “Have you changed since you—” His gaze flicked to me, sized me up, and then returned to Aaron. “—are in a relationship?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Oh, you should be,” Aaron said with a thread of warning in his voice.

  He took hold of Prentiss’s shoulder and guided him over to Max. We retook our places in line, but Aaron put Prentiss between him and Max, with me on the very end.

  I put my hand on the small of Aaron’s back and leaned close to his ear. “You’re a very good man.”

  “As long as you think so, that’s all that matters.”

  The moment the receiving line emptied, Aaron grabbed my hand and yanked me after him, around tables, past the dance floor, and into a darkened alcove at the back, further hidden by bunched curtains hanging from the ceiling of the ballroom. It was quiet there, unused, and filled with stacked chairs and extra tables.

  “What are we doing?” I questioned, rounding on him now that he wasn’t dragging me around anymore.

  “I know you read the article in that magazine about the heir apparent?”

  “It’s not funny.” I had been so hurt for Aaron, about the things his father had said about his lifestyle choices, about me, and about where he was leading the company.

  “You realize he can’t do anything at all to me, right?”

  “No, I know.”

  “And every antigay word he utters diminishes him in the eyes of the business community, here and everywhere.”

  “Sure.”

  “But you’re still worried.”

  “Not after what you said to Prentiss.”

  “But you knew all that. I told you when Max did it.”

  “With your blessing,” I reminded him.

  “And my money.” He grinned wickedly, taking a step toward me. “But tell me, can you remember the name?”

  “The name of what?”

  “The name of the magazine,” he began, closing the distance further, “the article about my dad and his new protégé was in?”

  I had to think. “I don’t think so.”

  “Exactly, because when I’m in print, I’m in Forbes, The Economist, Fortune, but my father and his heir, are not.”

  “Sure.”

  He tilted his head and kissed my ear, which sent a shiver down my side. “But don’t worry; I will never let my guard down where Prentiss is concerned.”

  “And I’m here.”

  “I know,” he said hoarsely. “Hey, take a look out there and make sure cocktail hour is going well.”

  I did as I was directed, moving a few feet away from him to peer out at the room from the safety of the heavy drapes. Everyone was standing or sitting, milling around, talking, laughing, and drinking.

  “Well?” he inquired, his hands on my hips undoing the belt that held the scabbard on.

  “What are you doing?” I spoke to him over my shoulder.

  “I just want this off for a second.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t answer, dropping the sword on the ground before going to work on the second belt I was wearing, the one not holding an antique weapon on my hip. His nimble fingers had it unbuckled in seconds.

  “Aaron?”

  “You’re not checking on the guests.”

  I went back to survey the crowd. “
I think it’s going okay.”

  “Good,” he said, kissing the back of my neck quickly before he was suddenly on his knees behind me, biting my ass through the thin fabric of the breeches.

  “Aaron.” I bucked hard.

  “So guess what got finished today?” he asked as his hands released the toggle clasp on the front of the breeches and made quick work of the trouser stays.

  “I….” He wanted me to carry on a conversation? “What?”

  “Your greystone,” he answered, sliding the pants and the jock down together until both hit the top of the boots.

  “Oh,” I moaned, opening my legs as far as they would go, bending forward, hands fisted in the drapes, holding tight as I arched my back.

  “So now,” he said, parting my cheeks, “we can start buying things for it.”

  “Yeah, we—oh,” I groaned softly as he slid his tongue inside me.

  “That was a good, sound investment on your part,” he praised, then speared his tongue in deeper and deeper before pulling out and swirling it around my hole.

  “Aaron.” I jerked back against him.

  He pushed back in, licking and laving, stretching me slowly, relaxing the muscles, his face pushed between my cheeks, massaging as he feasted on me until I was coated with his saliva.

  When he added a finger, sliding back and forth over my prostate, I started fucking myself on it, harder and harder.

  “Here,” he purred, and I felt the stretch in my ass as he added another finger, still moving gradually, in and out, back and forth, the rhythm slow but steady, relentless.

  When he reached around and took my cock in his hand, I begged.

  “Can you take me without lube?” he asked, rising behind me, stroking me from balls to head, repeatedly. “Can you?”

  In answer I thrust out my ass for him.

  “God, I love that you would,” he purred, kissing my back as I heard the tear of foil. “But that’s what lube packets are for.”

  “Are you kidding?” The planning was impressive. “You had the presence of mind to grab lube on the way out of the house?”

  “The way you’re dressed,” he said, his voice dark and low, “there was no way you were making it home without getting fucked.”

  “That’s kind of romantic.”

  “Only to you,” he husked, hands on my hips, positioning himself behind me before sliding easily between my cheeks, the press of him at my entrance making me gasp. “Ever since I got home and saw you…. Jesus, Duncan, do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?”