by Tricia Owens
Though the agents at the office now knew they were together, they still took separate vehicles to work since their schedules often diverged. When Ethan arrived, about ten minutes after Max had, he’d been braced for reporters on the property. Of course there hadn’t been any, and he’d kicked himself for assuming news about him and Max was so important that the media would camp out to get to them.
Everything had seemed mostly normal, barring a half dozen emails requesting phone and email interviews. Ethan hadn’t minded those. It had been easy enough to write back and politely decline the requests made by media outlets. He’d marked with a star the few requests that came from LGBT organizations on the off chance Max allowed him to do an interview with them on his own, without mentioning The Elite Poole Worldwide.
Despite Max’s doom and gloom attitude of last night, nothing major seemed amiss. Everything was normal. Maybe too normal, which was why Max remaining locked in his office all morning without even a request for a coffee had Ethan considering biting his nails. Or calling, which he wasn’t supposed to do except for business reasons.
“Well, he did say that we no longer needed to hide,” Ethan mused to himself. And how invasive was a quick phone call to make sure everything was okay?
He’d just extended his fingers to his phone when it rang, startling him. He quickly snatched it up.
“Hey, Max,” he said as casually as he could.
“Ethan, would you mind if we skipped our usual afternoon plans in favor of a traditional lunch?”
Ethan blinked in surprise. Max very rarely preferred food over sex. If he was hungry, he ate afterwards.
“I don’t mind at all. Is this a business lunch with a client?” He cringed, worried that Max would reveal they had been invited to an interview.
“No, it’s personal. However, I have a matter to discuss with you, and I don’t believe our usual activity would mesh well with it.”
Ethan’s eyebrows rode high on his forehead. “I don’t know what in the world that means but it sort of has me worried, Max. I’m not in trouble, am I?”
“No,” Max replied, but something in his tone left Ethan hanging, as though Max had meant to say ‘not yet’ but had decided not to speak the words.
Squirming slightly in his chair—amazing how Max could have that power over him even across a phone line—Ethan laughed uneasily. “O-kay, well, I guess I’m fine with lunch, then. A nice lunch where I’m not in trouble for anything.”
He heard a soft chuckle across the line. “Relax, Ethan. If you’re deserving of punishment, I would take great enjoyment in informing you of this fact. As you should know.”
“Yeah, well, there are different kinds of punishment and I’m only happy with one kind.”
“I’ll come by your office in half an hour to pick you up.”
Ethan swallowed. “Sounds good.”
But it didn’t sound good. Forget about doing any more work for the next thirty minutes, Ethan’s imagination was in overdrive, trying to figure out what could have prompted a discussion that couldn’t be had before or after sex. Unfortunately, what he came up with wasn’t good.
“The only way this could be worse was if tomorrow was Valentine’s Day,” Ethan mumbled. “Everyone always breaks up on Valentine’s Day.”
But it wasn’t, and Max wasn’t going to do anything so drastic. Not even close. But something was up, and Ethan was in an agony of waiting, prompting him to be standing in the doorway when Max finally came to fetch him.
The dark-haired man arched an eyebrow at Ethan’s body language. “Eager for lunch, are we?”
“Starving,” Ethan lied. He glanced up and down the hall, but the other agents had made a point all day of steering clear of him and Max, as though understanding that both men were slightly on edge after the party. “You still aren’t telling me?”
Max smirked, which was a good sign. “We’re having lunch, Ethan. Don’t work yourself into a lather. Come.”
They took the Mercedes and headed off the Strip where the majority of the fine dining restaurants were located. Ethan wasn’t surprised. The Strip was crowded, which wasn’t what either of them wanted to deal with. When Max eventually parked in the lot of a locals’ favorite bistro, Ethan was relieved. They would get some privacy here. Maybe that was what this discussion would be about—how they would move forward now that the cat was publicly out of the bag.
Max requested a booth away from the other diners, and after their drink and lunch orders were placed, Ethan drummed his fingers impatiently on the tabletop.
“Okay, so tell me what was so important that you gave up amazing sex with me.”
Max smiled slightly, his gaze on the table. “It is amazing, and I regret its absence. But I didn’t want you to make any sort of associations. You’ve submitted once to me already, and it was beautiful and I cherish it. I don’t need you to do it again to prove anything to either of us.”
Ethan didn’t like the sound of that. Though Max didn’t look or sound upset, what he’d said was confusing.
“I thought last night was good,” Ethan said. “We needed it. Not just you. Me, too. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“I agree. But under different circumstances, your actions could be taken as an apology, and I don’t want that.” Max raised his eyes and studied Ethan, as if only then realizing just how concerned he was. “I didn’t bring you here to stress you. I apologize if my vagueness has worried you.”
“A little.”
“It wasn’t my intention. Not at all. A potential client made a request for your services, and I wanted to discuss that with you.”
Ethan slumped. “That’s all? You got me worked up for nothing. That’s not like you, Max.”
It wasn’t, and he could tell there was more to it by the tightening of the muscles around Max’s blue eyes.
“He claims to be an old friend,” Max told him, “yet he refused to disclose how the two of you met. Perhaps it sounds as though I’m jealous, but I’m not. However, I admit I’m intrigued.”
“You are jealous.” Ethan couldn’t find pleasure from anything that made Max unhappy, but still…it was nice to feel wanted. He placed both forearms on the table and leaned forward. “You realize how ridiculous that is, don’t you?”
“I do. That doesn’t quell my curiosity.”
“Max, whoever this guy is, he’s nothing. If he was someone, do you really think he’d go through the agency to reach me? Go through my husband?”
“He might not be aware of who I am to you.”
“Maybe, but if he was a former fling he’d try to get my number, not hire through The Elite Poole.”
He was glad to see Max accept the reasoning as sound, because it was.
“Who is this guy, then?” Ethan settled back in the booth. “I may not even know him.”
“The thought did occur to me that he might be interested in you because he saw the broadcast,” Max admitted. “That’s another reason I wanted to speak with you about this. I feel compelled to protect you now that you’ve been outed.”
“Now that I’m fair game to the unscrupulous?” Ethan smirked. “Well, that goes for you, too, Max. Don’t let those holster sniffers get too close to you. Tall, dark and handsome does it for a lot of guys. Not to mention you’re rich. You’re a catch and a half.”
“I’m thrilled to be a ‘catch and a half’,” Max drawled, “but I’m not concerned with any attention that I may receive. I’ve occupied this particular niche in life for several years now. You, on the other hand, are vulnerable.”
“I’m not naïve.”
Max arched a brow. “Aren’t you?”
Ethan gave him a look, not appreciating the taunt, even if it held a kernel of truth. “I may tend to believe the best of people before I believe the worst, but I’m still intelligent. Besides, I’m with you. Even if a guy came along with the world’s best proposal, it’s too late. I’m hitched.”
“Not visibly,” Max murmured and surprised Ethan by reac
hing across the table and taking his hand. He didn’t even let go when the waiter came by to refill their water goblets. It was amazing how much Max had changed, and Ethan couldn’t help feeling proud of that.
“Is this a discussion about making a public commitment or is this about a client?” Ethan asked him, though he was only teasing about the former. “I don’t want to be blamed for steering us off-topic.”
Amused, Max squeezed his hand before releasing it. “We’re here to discuss this client. His name is Merrick Felix.”
Ethan had been ready to roll his eyes and dismiss this disillusioned blast from his past who thought he could blow into Ethan’s life and make an impact. But that name wouldn’t allow him to do that, and Max noticed.
“You do know him.” Blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Intimately.”
Ethan blew out his breath, suddenly wishing he was at home, on his head and being fucked senseless. “Yes, I know him. He owns an advertising company. He used to hire me and a few other models for various campaigns. He was a steady source of income for me for a while.”
He wished he’d left off the last part, because Max immediately pounced. “What happened? What caused your association to end?”
Ethan hesitated to answer, realizing it would look bad to Max, but he needed to consider what he would say. There were aspects to the situation that Max would not be thrilled to learn, and Ethan preferred to avoid revealing them for as long as possible not because he felt guilty or ashamed, but because he didn’t want Max to get the wrong idea.
“My relationship with Merrick was complicated,” he allowed as he played absently with his fork. “It wasn’t bad, so don’t immediately assume the worst.”
“I’d like more information, please.”
Max’s stiffness nearly made Ethan smile. “Like I said, he hired me and the other guys for a lot of shoots. He wasn’t the photographer, but he would direct the scenes according to his client’s needs. He was always on set, in other words, and that’s how I got to know him. He was my boss, so…take that as you will.”
He could see the wheels turning in Max’s head.
“What products did you promote for him?”
“Swim suits mostly. A few sportswear items—shorts and shirts, that sort of thing. I was never nude for anything,” Ethan stated clearly.
“You already told me that and I believe you,” Max said calmly.
Ethan smiled at him. “Thank you. I guess I get defensive about that. I used to have to defend myself a lot back then whenever I admitted to modeling swim wear.”
“Was Merrick Felix someone who made assumptions?”
Ethan shrugged, though he knew it was pointless to try to play it off. “Probably, but he wasn’t gross about it. He’s gay. I’m gay. We were both single back then. I don’t know if he still is.”
“I suspect that he is,” Max said dryly.
“You’re probably right, but he used to be pretty clued into the gay scene. I’d be surprised if he doesn’t know about the two of us, Max. If not already, then soon, and that’ll be the end of whatever he was hoping would happen by coming here.”
“He informed me that if you weren’t willing to accommodate his request then he would decline our services.”
Ethan was surprised, and not too happy with that. “How long had he intended on hiring us?”
“One week. No overnight coverage.”
“That’s a lucrative contract.” Ethan chewed on the inside of his cheek. “If you’re okay with it, I’d be okay with taking him on. I know him well. It wouldn’t be awkward even if he did have hopes of rekindling something between us. He’s a decent man.”
“I don’t care that the contract would be lucrative,” Max began.
“But you should,” Ethan said quickly. “He’s a gateway to the advertising and modeling industries. He knows a lot of people—rich people and people who’d enjoy feeling important by hiring a bodyguard. He’d be a valuable client for The Elite Poole. We could use him.”
“We’re not desperate,” Max said. An edge had crept into his voice.
“No, but why turn away future business? You always tell me not to make things personal, Max. I’m throwing that back at you.” Ethan regarded him steadily. “You trust me, don’t you?”
Surprise lit Max’s eyes before mild annoyance dimmed them. “That’s not a question worth asking.”
“Then Merrick isn’t a big deal. He’s revenue and that’s all.”
“You slept with him.”
Ethan shifted, uncomfortable. He understood now why Max hadn’t wanted to have this conversation in the condo. Ethan wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have tried to use sex to distract Max or convince him of his sincerity. Max, as usual, had known the score.
“It was a long time ago,” he said, holding Max’s gaze. “And as I told you, it ended before I even met you. I ended it, which should make you feel even better.”
“I’d feel better if he hadn’t called me,” Max said flatly, “but I also realize that ostrich-like behavior concerning my husband isn’t healthy for our relationship. I am aware that you have a past, as have I. What’s important is that these things are history.” As Ethan nodded, Max sighed. “Very well. I’ll let him know that you’re amenable to taking on this assignment.” His gaze seared Ethan. “You will tell me if he makes any advances toward you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, do you understand? I will not be forgiving if you attempt to brush off his behavior because you were once intimate. You’re my husband now. You’re mine.”
“I think if you pulled my hair right now I’d come in my pants,” Ethan blurted.
Surprise flitted across Max’s face before it was replaced by a heavy-lidded look. “Whether I pull your hair or whether you come because of it is up to me,” he said in a tone so sexy it made Ethan throb.
“This right here is why you have no reason to worry about anything,” Ethan said, keeping his own voice low. He spread his legs to make room for the growing bulge between them. “Only you can do this to me.”
“Is that why you ended things with him?”
“There wasn’t a ‘thing’. We hooked up a few times. I decided he wasn’t what I wanted. End of story.” Ethan moved his hand to cup himself. “I’m touching myself.”
“Are you.” Max took his time picking up his water goblet and taking a sip from it while his dark blue gaze never left Ethan’s face. “I don’t recall giving you permission to do that.”
“May I?”
“No.”
Ethan slumped, disappointed, then jumped slightly when he felt something brush his inner thigh. It had been firm, hard. When he felt something brush against him a second time, seconds later, he recognized the warmth of Max’s sock-covered foot. Max had toed off his shoe.
“No fair,” Ethan murmured, though he made no attempt to close his legs and block the exploring appendage.
“Since when has our sex life been fair?” Max was infuriatingly cool, as though he were having a business lunch with elderly men and not stroking his toes against Ethan’s trapped erection. “I’d go so far as to say the more unfair it is, the more you enjoy it, hmm?”
“That goes for you, too,” Ethan accused, growing breathless.
“Oh, yes. It most certainly does.”
Max’s eyes were like a predator’s, watching for weakness, noting every twitch of Ethan’s expression, the way his fingers curled atop the table as Max rubbed the ball of his foot up the arch of his swelling cock.
“Tell me to come for you and I will,” Ethan whispered, his cheeks flushing at the thought of dampening his underwear at command.
He groaned beneath his breath as he watched Max curl his hand into a fist upon the table.
“You’re shameless,” Max growled quietly.
“I’m also horny and about to die from what your foot is doing to me—oh, god.” Ethan’s head fell back as Max drove his foot firmly against him, rubbing with intent. “Please. More.”
“You’re not coming.” Max
reached beneath the table and shifted slightly, obviously adjusting his own erection more comfortably. “You’re going to remain hard throughout lunch, and if you obey me like the good boy you are, I’ll fill your throat with my cock when we’re back in the car.” As Ethan bit his lip to stifle his moan, Max added roughly, “And you’ll drink everything that I give you.”
Ethan pressed a hand to his face, hiding his eyes, as the server arrived with their first course salads. Max’s foot remained between his legs, rhythmically pressing against him, and Ethan knew that this lunch was going to be like all the rest that they shared: torture with ecstasy for dessert. And he was just fine with that.
Chapter Four
Ethan judged that the investigator’s initial report on Merrick Felix would hit Max’s desk sometime today, the day after their phone consultation. Ethan wondered what it would reveal. Merrick didn’t have enemies as far as Ethan knew. The guy was easy-going and treated the people he worked with fairly. Ethan had a difficult time imagining who could have a problem with him. Max said Merrick had claimed he had a female stalker. Ethan found that improbable. Then again, he hadn’t seen the man in years. Maybe he’d changed. Maybe he’d become unscrupulous.
Maybe he wanted to see Ethan for all the wrong reasons.
Even so, Ethan had meant what he’d told Max: nothing would happen. Not a man existed in the world who could come between him and Max, so even if Merrick proved to be relentless, his efforts would yield nothing.
The problem lay in Ethan’s connection to The Elite Poole Worldwide. Though Ethan couldn’t be swayed, what damage could be done to the company in retaliation?
His phone rang and he gladly seized the distraction from his thoughts.
