Play Along

by Mathilde Watson

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Note from the Publisher

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  About the Author

  Also by Mathilde Watson

  Play Along

  At Play: Book One

  Mathilde Watson

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED:

  Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the South African Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated and is punishable by imprisonment and a fine."

  Cover Artist: Reese Dante

  Editor: Lee Rowan

  Play Along © 2011 Mathilde Watson

  ISBN # 9781920484804

  Attention Readers: This book uses US English. Thank you.

  All rights reserved.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The Licensed Art Material is being used for illustrative purposes only; any person depicted in the Licensed Art Material, is a model.

  PUBLISHER

  http://www.silverpublishing.info

  Note from the Publisher

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together.

  Please remember that the only money authors make from writing comes from the sales of their books. If you like their work, spread the word and tell others about the books, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form. Authors depend on sales and sales only to support their families.

  If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales on pirate sites of this title, you can report the offending entry to copyright@silverpublishing.info

  Thank you for not pirating our titles.

  Lodewyk Deysel

  Publisher

  Silver Publishing

  http://www.silverpublishing.info

  Dedication:

  For Boo, who stood by me while my world fell apart. Twice. (So Far.) I love you!

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Holiday Inn: IHG

  Chapter One

  Monday, May 6, 1985.

  "Shit, Mark. Yeah! So good. Don't stop!"

  Mark swallowed around Nathan's cock and looked up into his lover's beautiful face, damp with sweat and drawn tight with pleasure under a mop of golden hair curled over his forehead and into his blue eyes. Nate was sitting on the bed, still dressed except for his pants, which were tangled around his ankles. Kneeling naked on the floor between Nate's splayed thighs, Mark pumped his own hard length through his fist. He bobbed his head up and down Nate's shaft a few more times before taking a deep breath and swallowing it whole, letting his throat stretch around the throbbing flesh.

  "Oh, shit, Mark… shit!"

  Nate's hands twisted painfully in his hair, holding him in place. Mark suppressed a grimace, struggling for breath while Nate ground his pelvis into Mark's face. Nate grunted and froze, releasing his grip on Mark's hair while his hot, salty cum shot down the back of Mark's throat. Mark swallowed quickly, not wanting to lose a drop. He continued to tug on his own erection while he licked Nate clean. Mark allowed Nate's softening shaft to slip from his mouth as he found his own release, spraying his seed all over Nate's leg.

  Nate fell back on the bed, breathing hard. Mark chuckled and climbed to his feet, planting a kiss on Nate's thigh and admiring the way his muscles flexed with his gasping breaths. Nate was smart, athletic, popular and fun… Nate was everything good, he had it all. And Mark had Nate, even if no one else knew it yet. God, how had he gotten so lucky?

  Mark went to their tiny bathroom and cleaned himself up before bringing back a damp cloth to wipe the mess off of Nate's leg, barely managing to get the job done before anything dripped onto Nate's slacks. When he finished, he tossed the cloth in the direction of the bathroom and climbed onto the bed, crawling over Nate and angling for a kiss.

  "Aw, hey, gross. Get off me!" Nate laughed and smacked Mark hard on the ass, dodging his lips and bounding off of the bed. "Cut it out. You know I don't have time for this. I'm due at the airport in an hour! Shit. I've gotta run." Nate pulled his slacks back up around his waist as he stumbled into the bathroom.

  Mark sighed and rolled over onto his side, trying not to be too disappointed. Nate wasn't much for kissing or cuddling… or even reciprocating, for that matter. Damn! Nate had never bottomed, and he never stuck around to cuddle after they'd made love. But at least they were living together, had been for going on two years now, and soon they would be opening a business together. This was the first serious relationship either of them had ever been in. The rest would come. Their love was enough for now.

  Nate came out of the bathroom with his hair brushed and his clothing set to rights and Mark openly ogled him, allowing a goofy grin to split his face.

  "God, you're beautiful, Nate."

  "Shut up, stupid."

  Mark pushed himself up and out of the bed and went to his dresser, pulling out an old pair of sweatpants. He bent over to step into the pants, and Nate smacked his bare ass again on his way past to retrieve his bag. Mark jumped and let out an unmanly squeak as he pulled up the pants. Nate was laughing and Mark joined in, wrapping his arms around Nate's waist from behind. He nuzzled into the shorter man's hair and pressed his lips to his ear.

  "I love you. I'm going to miss you this summer." Mark whispered, snaking his hand down the front of Nate's slacks and fondling his flaccid cock back to half-mast.

  "Hey." Nate unwrapped himself from Mark's arms, stepping away quickly. "Stop that. I'll only be gone for two months. I'll be back before you know it." Nate shrugged his duffel bag up onto his shoulder and headed for the door. Mark followed him, grabbing his hand before he could leave the apartment.

  "Have a good trip. And don't let them talk you into staying over any, okay? The bar is scheduled to open on August tenth, and I need you here for that."

  Nate smiled and gave Mark's hand a squeeze before nodding and pulling away. "I'll be back in plenty of time, don't worry. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I won't stay a
way from you long. See you soon."

  Nate turned and walked away, leaving Mark in the doorway watching after him until he disappeared down the stairwell. Sighing, Mark closed the door and went back into the apartment alone, his mind already racing with plans for how best to welcome his lover back home.

  ****

  Thursday, July 11, 1985

  The squeal of the hinges and the shuffled sound of boots scraping against the floor startled Mark from his troubled sleep. Bright sunlight shone down into his eyes from the window above the bar and he squinted his eyes shut again, groaning and rolling onto his side on the dirty floor. His hand landed in a puddle and he groped blindly until he found the source of the pungent liquid. His fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle and he clutched at it triumphantly, bringing it to his lips and downing the last of the bottle's contents in two quick gulps. He didn't even look to see what it was. He didn't care. The alcohol dulled the pain in his heart and that was all that mattered.

  "Mark! Hey, Mark, you in here, hombre?"

  Mark's winced in agony, the sharp sounds of the door slamming followed by his friend Ricardo's loud, heavily accented voice only making things that much worse. He forced his eyes open and took in his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was sitting on a stool at the new bar, drinking away the hurt of Nate's betrayal. Now he was sprawled out on the floor with empty bottles of beer, whiskey, and whatever had been handy scattered around him.

  "Mark? Hey, Mark, what the hell?" Ricardo stomped into the room, his heavy combat boots shaking the floor under Mark's shoulder. Mark groaned and wrapped his arms over his head, covering his face and curling his body into as tight a ball as he could manage.

  "Go away!"

  The ground shook, jarring Mark again when Ricardo's knees landed heavily next to Mark's head. He grabbed Mark's arms with both hands, shaking him lightly. "I won't. Come on, amigo, open your eyes and talk to me. What the hell's the matter with you?"

  Mark could feel tears welling behind his eyes and he gritted his teeth, trying to hold them back. Slowly he rolled onto his back and allowed Ricardo to pull his arms away from his face. The concern he saw in his best friend's gaze broke his resolve and a tear escaped from the corner of his eye, slipping down his cheek. Angrily, he dashed it away and pushed himself up until he was sitting cross-legged in front of Ricardo.

  "He left me, Ricky. Gettin' married. He's gettin' fucking married! Agh!" Mark grabbed his head again, whimpering and pressing his temples between the palms of his hands. Yelling with a hangover wasn't the smartest of moves, but at least the pain in his head took away from the pain in his soul.

  "What? Who? What the hell are you going on about? You aren't making any sense, amigo." Ricardo's strong fingers slipped under Mark's hands and into his hair, firmly massaging Mark's temples with steady, even strokes. The caress felt good, comforting, and Mark took a moment to enjoy it before the pain and the anger surged through him again.

  Mark pushed Ricardo's hands away and twisted around to survey the floor behind him. A crumpled lavender card lay just out of his reach and he scrambled after it, snatching it up and tossing it into Ricardo's lap. He didn't want to touch it any more than he had to. Holding it in his hands made it real. Ricardo opened the card and Mark looked away, his gaze landing on the mess of spilled and empty bottles strewn all over the floor.

  "Mr and Mrs Gregory Chancellor are pleased to announce the engagement of their daughter, Annabelle Mae Chancellor, to Nathan Allen Marshall… Shit. Damn, Mark. Have you called him since you got this?" Ricardo's strong arms wrapped around Mark's shoulders and Mark buried his face in his friend's neck, unable to hold back a sob any longer.

  "Only for a minute, Ricky. He wasn't alone. But he said he wanted it. Wanted to get married." Mark couldn't look at Ricardo while he repeated Nate's words, the ones he could force past his throat. He couldn't bring himself to repeat the part where Nate had said Annabelle was the best thing that ever happened to him. The same thing he'd always said about Mark.

  "Hijo de puta!" Ricardo's arms tightened around Mark's shoulders and Mark shook his head, pulling back to look up into Ricardo's face.

  "No! I told you, he wasn't alone. He couldn't say what he really wanted to. This can't be right. They're making him do it. They found out about us somehow, and they're making him get married. He loves me. He told me he loved me!" The tears were falling freely now, but Mark didn't bother trying to hide them, not from Ricardo. They'd been friends since grade school, had seen each other through both good times and bad. It would take more than a few tears to chase Ricardo away.

  Ricardo's hand cupped his cheek and Mark leaned into the touch, appreciating the caress of Ricardo's thumb as it brushed away his tears. "He said a lot of things, amigo, but he never did a damn thing."

  Ricardo's soft rebuke made his guts twist. The accusation wasn't new. Ricardo never had liked Nate. Mark wiped the tears from his other cheek and pulled out of the embrace, trying to regain his composure and ignoring the sting of Ricardo's words. "What am I going to do without him?"

  "What'll you do without him?" Ricardo let out a harsh laugh. "Ha! Hell, you've been doing without him all along, yeah? Think about it. What's he done, huh? He didn't pay any rent. He didn't put any money into this place, and he never lifted a finger to help get things set up here! He was a freeloader. You're better off without him."

  Angry, Mark pulled away and scrambled off the floor. His head throbbed and the room spun erratically before his eyes. Mark stumbled over the empty bottles at his feet, crashing into the bar. He clung to the edge, leaning against it and hanging on as tightly as his sweaty fingers would allow, swallowing back nausea.

  "No, you're wrong! He did what he could. He was busy. He tried to help out. With tennis and school and studying… He didn't have time!" Mark could hear Ricardo climbing to his feet and then stomping up beside him. Ricardo leaned against the bar next to him and sighed heavily. Mark closed his eyes, not wanting to see to pity swimming behind Ricardo's wry smile.

  "Oh, yeah, studying. Right. You and I both know he wasn't studying. As much time as he spent with his so-called tutors he should have been making straight A's. He barely passed anything." Again, Mark's guts twisted inside of him. The insinuation that Nate was screwing his tutors was clear in Ricardo's voice and Mark had to swallow back bile. He'd suspected as much himself once, but Nate had vehemently denied it and Mark had taken him at his word. Hearing the accusation again from Ricardo fueled his anger even more.

  "Stop it! You weren't there, you don't know anything about it. Why do you hate him so much?" Mark slumped down even more over the bar, laying his head over his forearms, blocking the light and putting much needed pressure against his throbbing eyes.

  "I can't help it. I hate what he does to you. Damn it, Mark, you talk to him four and five times a week! Why the hell didn't he mention any of this to you before now, huh?" The sound of papers shaking, crinkling and rubbing against each other assaulted Mark's ears, bringing his focus back to the elegant invitation. "You give and you give, and he don't give nothing back! Nothing but grief. He's draining the life out of you! Can't you see? You're better off without him!"

  Mark snapped his head up off the bar, searing pain shooting through his head with the sudden movement. He rounded on Ricardo, filled with righteous indignation. Defending his lover came naturally to him now. In all reality, he did it to defend himself as well.

  "No! They're forcing him into this. He… I'm nothing without him." Frustrated, Mark flung his arm out to the side, shoving empty and half empty bottles of whiskey and beer off the edge of the bar. They hit the hardwood floor with a crash, glass and alcohol splashing against the edge of the bar and over his ankles.

  Ricardo grabbed him, wrapping his large hands around Mark's biceps and shaking him fiercely. Mark stumbled, but Ricardo hauled him up, leaning his face mere inches in front of Mark's. Ricardo's eyes were bright, his face was almost crimson. Mark had never seen him so angry.

  "Nothing w
ithout him? You're a man, damn it! With a business to run. A lot is depending on you, amigo. My brother, Manny, and his crew? They expect to get paid for fixing this place up. Those servers and bartenders you hired? They're expecting to work." Ricardo shook him again, gentler this time, before pulling Mark to him in a fierce hug. "You're the boss, Mark. You. You've got to buck up, hombre. Pull yourself together."

  Mark pressed his face against Ricardo's chest and shook his head. "I know, but… Nate…"

  "You don't need him!" Ricardo's arms tightened around Mark briefly before he let go, his heavy sigh ruffling Mark's hair.

  "Okay, look." Ricardo's arms slid away from Mark's shoulders and he leaned back, holding the invitation between them. "The wedding is July 27th, si? Two weeks before we open. And this invitation is for you, plus a guest. So I'm going with you. We'll go out there, talk to him, see if he means business or not. If he is being forced into this, we'll grab him and bring him back."

  Mark whipped his head around to look at Ricardo, his friend's face blurring before his eyes. He couldn't handle this on his own, but with Ricardo's help? Excited, he tried to find the words to thank him, but Ricardo cut him off.

  "But, if this wedding really is what he wants, you'll have to let him go, amigo. We'll watch him get hitched, we'll wish him well, and then we'll come back here and open those doors without him, comprende?" Mark's vision blurred with tears of gratitude. Quickly he nodded his head in agreement, wincing at the sudden agony caused by the move. Sure, he understood. He was going to get his man back. Laughing with uncontrolled excitement Mark swayed forward, reaching for an open bottle of beer and bringing it to his lips. Before he could drink Ricardo intercepted him, pulling the drink from his hand.