Showdown

by Cindy Dees

  “But what if I still want to express gratitude to you?” He reached out, hands contacting Sebastian’s chest. Pectoral muscles jumped beneath his palms, bunching into tense wads. Sebastian’s hands came up, whether to push Zane’s away or hold him closer, Zane couldn’t tell. But he didn’t wait. He took the last step forward into the circle of Sebastian’s arms and pressed his body against the wall of muscle that was Sebastian.

  Was it a cheap ploy to use sex to distract Sebastian? Maybe. Except he really did want to make Sebastian feel better. And maybe to burn off a little of the driving need pounding insistently through his own veins. He was a physical guy. His life revolved around how he looked, how he moved, how his body was perceived. His body was his tool, his platform for experiencing life. It was the most important thing he could share with Sebastian. And he could only hope Sebastian understood the gesture.

  Sebastian drew in a sharp breath that cut across the tense silence. “Zane—”

  “Don’t pull away from me. I’m not trying to seduce you unless you want me to. But you need to look at me. See me. I’m right here.”

  “Trust me. I see you. I can’t look away from you.”

  His pulse leaped hopefully. “I’m not going anywhere, and I didn’t lie to you about who I am. I’m not one of the bad guys. I’m not one of them.”

  “Do I dare believe you?”

  “Yes. Take the leap of faith.” He added desperately, “I’m with you.”

  Sebastian’s arms swept around him, and his mouth swooped down, capturing Zane’s in a hard, frantic kiss. He found himself kissing back just as urgently. He’d nearly died tonight, and he was in desperate need of reassurance that he’d made it. That he was still alive. Sebastian’s hips ground against his, and he ground right back. Lust and relief mingled explosively.

  “You scared the hell out of me,” Sebastian muttered against his lips.

  Zane captured Sebastian’s lower lip between his teeth and bit down lightly. “How do you think I felt when gunshots rang out and I had no idea where they were coming from, or who shot them, or who they were targeted at? I was sure I was going to die in that alley.”

  Sebastian turned with him, pushing him back against the wall beside the sofa, trapping Zane with his hands braced on either side of Zane’s head, the cool wall at his back and Sebastian’s burning heat at his front. “You would have died if I hadn’t been there. As soon as you set that briefcase down, you were dead.”

  “But you saved me,” Zane whispered. A pause, and then he risked adding, “Let me save you back.”

  Sebastian stared at him in something akin to shock, and Zane wrapped his fingers around those amazing arms on either side of him. He waited for Sebastian to pull away, but when he didn’t move—and in fact looked rooted to the spot, frozen—Zane slid his hands down Sebastian’s arms and reached for the buttons of his dress shirt.

  Still giving Sebastian plenty of time and space to stop him, he moved slowly. Carefully. Never breaking eye contact, he popped open the buttons by feel, one by one, working his way down that magnificent chest.

  He pushed the starched cotton back, revealing dark skin and curly black chest hair, then ran his fingers through the silken strands, groaning under his breath at how sexy Sebastian’s chest was.

  “Are we good here?” he murmured. When he’d been young, slender, and pretty, he’d been the target of several attempted assaults. He’d been lucky and smart—not to be too drunk or stoned to fight off his would-be assailants—and he’d been a big fan of conscientiously obtaining consent ever since.

  Sebastian didn’t answer right away, and Zane stilled, not moving his hands as they lay on his muscular chest. “I’m not proceeding without explicit consent. I don’t want there to be any more misunderstandings between us, and certainly not about this. Do you want me to stop or keep going, Sebastian?”

  A shudder passed through Sebastian, palpable under his palms. “Keep going.” The words were no more than a breath of a sigh, but they were enough for him. Thank God.

  He pressed his hand flat against Sebastian’s chest and felt a heartbeat under his palm, pounding hard and fast. Ahh. Not as calm and unaffected as he looked, huh? Emboldened, Zane reached for Sebastian’s belt buckle. It opened and he tugged, relishing the sexy slither of leather as it slid free of his hard waist.

  Still staring into those dark, increasingly turbulent eyes, Zane opened Sebastian’s fly. Unzipped it. Slid his fingers down inside the elastic of Sebastian’s silk boxers. More crisply curling hair, thick and warm. And then he found and closed his fingers around Sebastian’s rock-hard erection. He slid down the shaft and then found the heavy, hot sac behind, cupping Sebastian’s balls and giving them a light squeeze. He pressed his middle fingertip to the spot just behind Sebastian’s scrotum, rotating in a tiny circle.

  Sebastian gasped and his hips rocked forward eagerly and then away in caution, or maybe embarrassment. Hard to tell behind the white-hot blaze of lust in Sebastian’s eyes.

  Zane slipped his other hand into the waist of Sebastian’s trousers, reached around Sebastian’s hips, and pushed the fabric down off those narrow, hard hips and ass of steel. Slowly, he sank down between Sebastian’s corded arms.

  He couldn’t resist an urge to taste all those acres of bronzed flesh and rippling abs as he sank, inch by inch, to his knees. He took Sebastian’s hard-on into his mouth, just the tip, swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh, tickling the underside with quick flicks. He raked his teeth lightly down the less sensitive shaft and then slurped his way back up it, soothing where he’d just nibbled.

  A hand plunged into his hair at the back of his head, not pressing him forward or trying to restrain him, thankfully. He recognized it for the silent plea it was, and smiling, he closed his eyes and took all of Sebastian into his mouth. He forced his neck muscles to relax and swallowed past the gag reflex as Sebastian’s prodigious cock filled his mouth and pressed against his throat. He backed off just enough to breathe and used his right hand to grasp the base of Sebastian’s erection tightly, substituting for his mouth.

  Using his left hand to cup Sebastian’s balls as well, Zane used his lips, tongue, teeth, and fists to drive Sebastian out of his mind. He wasn’t gentle with Sebastian’s junk. Not yet. Right now, it was all about making the man go wild with pleasure. He relished seeing Sebastian squirm and then writhe, totally out of control and at his mercy as he grasped Sebastian’s entire package tightly and made it his. He played Sebastian’s body, driving him to pant, and then groan, and then shout with pleasure.

  It was an outrageous turn-on to look up at Sebastian, his forearm braced on the wall and his forehead braced on his arm. His eyes were closed now, his jaw clenched so hard he looked like he might crack a tooth. That long, tanned torso undulated and jerked as Zane sucked and soothed, nipped and pulled, driving Sebastian from the edge of pleasure to the edge of pain and back again, mercilessly driving him to lose all control of his body and soul, and to surrender both completely.

  People might think the guy getting the blowjob was in control, but Zane knew better. He owned Sebastian in that moment, and he was so turned-on by it that his own erection threatened to explode.

  Concentrating on the task at hand, he increased the speed and pressure of his mouth sliding up and down that slick, hard shaft. He tightened his hand on Sebastian’s balls and demanded silently that Sebastian come for him. Sebastian fought it for a few seconds, but he wasn’t able to hold out, and with a shout and one last shuddering surge, he plunged forward into Zane’s mouth.

  Zane reveled in how long Sebastian’s orgasm lasted, how violently he erupted, and how utterly spent he was as Zane slipped out from under him and stood up. Sebastian stayed there—forearm against the wall, trousers around his ankles—panting, for long seconds. It was a beautiful sight, one Zane would never forget as long as he lived. Sebastian looked like a Greek statue, a warrior at rest after battle. Still standing but not unscathed, his defenses stripped bare, his naked soul ex
posed.

  This was the real Sebastian. Stripped of power suits and money and authority. The flesh-and-blood man, spent and satiated, his mind blown. And Zane had done that to Sebastian. A surge of pride, of personal power, of having—for once in his life—gotten it right with the right man flowed through him.

  Now he could only pray that Sebastian would forgive him and not turn his back on him. He had never felt more exposed or vulnerable in his life, even though he was the one still fully clothed.

  Chapter Ten

  NO. WORDS.

  None.

  What had just happened to him?

  Sebastian was staggered by the violence of his reaction to Zane. He’d been completely helpless in the face of what just happened between them. He didn’t do powerless. He never lost control, and he never, ever, got involved with a man he was half convinced was one of the bad guys.

  Problem was, if Zane wanted to distract him, wanted to convince him they were on the same team, the guy would have done exactly what he just had.

  Sebastian yanked up his pants and headed over to the bar. He poured himself a double shot of the vodka sitting on the counter, using Zane’s glass. He threw it back in distaste, then poured himself another.

  “You okay?” Zane asked from the doorway.

  “No. I’ve got to call my friend and tell him I fucked up. That I let you out of my sight and lost the plates. Erebus is in the wind, and his undercover operative risked his life for nothing to tip us off about those currency printing plates.”

  “We didn’t lose the plates,” Zane said matter-of-factly.

  Sebastian froze.

  Turned in slow motion.

  Stared at Zane. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Oh, I still have the plates. I took them out of the briefcase before I went to the meeting.”

  Sebastian’s mind went completely blank. “Come again?” he mumbled.

  “I have the plates. They’re right here.” He reached into the Italian suit coat and pulled the pair of metal plates out of an inner pocket.

  “Why didn’t you say so sooner?” he burst out.

  “You were so busy accusing me of being in cahoots with those Erebus assholes that I didn’t get a chance. And,” he added a little reluctantly, “I was mad enough at you for accusing me that I didn’t feel like telling you just then. And then later, we got, umm, distracted.” He flashed a quick, shy smile that was completely endearing, not to mention disarming. He added seriously, sincerely, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about that.”

  “What on earth possessed you to keep the plates?”

  “I was worried they might try to kill me in the alley if I just handed over what they wanted. I wanted to get the lay of the land, see if I was in any danger before I coughed up their stupid plates. If they hinted that they were going to shoot me, I was going to pretend to have stashed the plates somewhere else.”

  Sebastian rolled his eyes. “In that scenario, they would have kidnapped you and tortured the location of the plates out of you.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think like a crime lord. That possibility didn’t occur to me.”

  Zane isn’t a criminal mastermind.

  Sebastian strode forward and wrapped up Zane, plates and all, in a bone-crushing hug of relief. “Thank God, and thank you. Maybe you can still get out of this alive, and maybe we can still figure out who the bastards are who tried to kill you.” His knees actually felt weak, he was so relieved.

  “You’re welcome,” Zane gasped. “A little air, here.”

  He set Zane back down on his feet and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

  Bad idea.

  Their gazes connected, and all the heat and crackling attraction from before was right there again, snapping and popping between them. An urge to lean in, to carry Zane down to the floor, to return the favor and make love to the man until neither of them could stand, let alone walk, nearly overcame him.

  He needed to keep his wits about him. Think about the mission, not get distracted by Zane’s mesmerizing mouth and the things it did to him. Sebastian took a hasty step back, gratified at the disappointment shining in Zane’s transparent and so-expressive eyes.

  Focus on the job. “Why did you take the plates out of the briefcase?”

  “No arrangements had been made for paying me, and that made me suspicious. When models work for newcomers in the fashion industry or upstart photographers, we learn fast to get paid up front, before we do the work. We’re perceived as easy to stiff because we have no real means of fighting back. Particularly for Americans in Europe, who are unfamiliar with the legal systems and not likely to get much help from local police anyway. The whole setup for the meeting just came across as sketchy. I listened to my gut.”

  “God bless your suspicious gut,” Sebastian declared fervently. “First thing in the morning, when the banks open, I want to put those plates in a safe deposit box and get them away from you. That way no one should come after you with guns blazing again.”

  “And tonight? How much danger am I in, given that I’ve still got these stupid plates?” Zane asked, frowning.

  “Hard to tell. As far as I can tell, nobody followed you back here. I think they were too busy fleeing the shooting before the cops got there and getting that briefcase to whomever sent them to fetch it.”

  Zane let out a sigh of relief, and Sebastian added in warning, “But that doesn’t mean they haven’t been following you already, or maybe tracking your position based on the location of the burner phone they gave you. I’d like to take a look at that phone, by the way. I doubt we can learn anything from it, but it’s worth checking it out and making sure there is no GPS function built into it.”

  “They could be on their way here to kill me? Right now?”

  “Breathe, Zane. We’re in a posh hotel with excellent security people. They can’t just barge in, magically figure out what room you’re in, and break in here. And even if they managed all of that, they’d still have me and Etienne to contend with.”

  “Etienne? Is he some kind of soldier too?”

  “My dear man. He’s ex–French Foreign Legion. Even I wouldn’t want to tangle with him in a dark alley. He kicks my butt on a regular basis, and if you’ll forgive me for being blunt, I’m no slouch at hand-to-hand combat.”

  “So he’s your bodyguard?” Zane asked.

  “Not officially, but we look out for each other. Have each other’s backs. He was the first guy I hired when I had enough money to pay someone to help grow my business. We’ve been together for a long time.”

  “Friends with benefits?” Zane murmured. He sounded like he was trying to be blasé about the question, but sudden tension thrummed through him.

  Sebastian laughed. “Dude. He’s so straight he could double as an arrow.”

  Zane exhaled hard. “Glad to hear it.”

  “Were you jealous? Of me?” he blurted.

  Zane answered breezily, “Do I strike you as the jelly type? Not even.”

  Hah. Zane was totally feeling territorial about him. Which was. So. Cool.

  Truth be told, he was feeling pretty territorial about Zane too.

  Aloud, he said, “I’ll give Etienne a call. Ask him to come up to the suite. He and I will stay up tonight and guard you. That, and I’ll call the hotel security guys and let them know you’ve got a crazy stalker, and we need eyes on the security cameras in the Towers all night.”

  “Wow. It must be nice to have that kind of clout.”

  “It’s not nice needing to have that kind of clout,” Sebastian retorted. “Go to sleep. If you hear gunshots, lock yourself in your bathroom and don’t come out until I give you the all clear.”

  “What if you die?”

  Sebastian snorted. “Then it won’t matter. The bad guys will break down the door and kill you too.”

  Zane’s eyes went wide and frightened.

  “I didn’t say that to scare you. Between Etienne and me, you couldn’t have much more hard-core protection. He and I hav
e both been to hell and back a few times. And believe me, the devil’s scared shitless of him.”

  Zane laughed reluctantly. “Be careful.”

  “Count on it. I’m not losing you after I’ve just found you.”

  Zane looked nearly as startled as Sebastian felt. Where in the hell had those words come from? They’d just slipped out. This was still a mission, and he was still supposed to be protecting Zane’s life. This was neither the time nor the place for a romantic entanglement.

  But as the long hours of the night passed and he sat in the dark, gun in his lap, watching the front door, his mind kept wandering back to the encounter between him and Zane earlier. He’d had some decent sex in his life, but he’d never experienced anything remotely as intense as that. It was as if Zane had reached inside his gut and pulled his heart out. He’d felt… things… he’d never felt before. Gratitude. Empowerment. Need.

  He didn’t do need.

  He’d learned a very long time ago that needing anyone was a weakness that others could and would exploit. He relied on himself and nobody else.

  And yet he needed to do that again with Zane. In fact, he needed to do more than that. And he needed to do it almost worse than he needed to breathe.

  It wasn’t just about the sex, although the sex was great. It was about the warm feeling in his belly he got from being around Zane. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that way about anyone.

  It was a long, long night.

  MORNING BROUGHT Etienne back up to the suite after he went down to the kitchen to personally fetch their breakfast. He knocked on the suite door, and after Sebastian checked through the peephole to verify it was the Frenchman, he opened the door. Etienne pushed in a cart loaded with food, all vetted and free of drugs or poison. Knowing Etienne, the guy had tasted each dish himself, just like in medieval times. Sebastian dug in, hungry as hell after last night’s excitement.

  Zane came out of his room, rubbing his eyes, hair sticking up, and looking about twelve years old. Sebastian couldn’t help grinning at him. “You look like Dennis the Menace.”