Showdown

by Cindy Dees

  He mumbled into Zane’s styled hair, “You know, if you tried examining logic, you would also come to the same conclusion.”

  “How so?”

  “Because if I wasn’t interested in you personally, I’d have offered you two million bucks to just give the plates to me. I’d still get to use the plates to trap the Erebus guys for myself and I wouldn’t have had to deal with some pesky dude.”

  Zane lifted his head to smile up at him, an eyebrow quirked quizzically. “Thank you, I think?”

  Sebastian stepped away from Zane, carefully setting him at arm’s length. “If we’re going to get any supper tonight, I have to get back to cooking. Otherwise I’m going to take you to bed right now and we’ll starve before morning.”

  “Speak for yourself. I’m used to living on twigs and berries, remember?” Zane retorted.

  Sebastian lifted a lid and stirred the pot of bolognese sauce. “Not in this house, you’re not.”

  It didn’t take much longer to cook and drain fresh angel hair pasta, toss it with the sauce, shred a hard, salty cheese finely over it, and dish up salads and only slightly burned garlic bread. Zane picked out a bottle of wine from the cooler and pulled the cork. They carried the whole feast out to the terrace, lit only by the shimmering glow of underwater lights in the swimming pool. At their feet lay the lights of New York City stretching away into the night. It was magical.

  Sebastian had brought the occasional date to the penthouse, but he’d never been nervous over what the date thought. Tonight he was desperate for everything to be perfect. He served Zane a big plate of pasta that had Zane laughing in protest, filled his glass with a vintage burgundy he’d paid thousands of dollars for, and mumbled, “I’m sorry for the burned bread.”

  “Sebastian. Stop. Look at me.”

  Frowning, he sank into his seat and looked across the small table at Zane in alarm.

  “That’s the third time you’ve apologized for the bread being burned. I’ll scrape off the black bits—which are only around the edge of the crust, by the way—and it’ll be fine. Trust me. If I’d been in charge of toasting the garlic bread, fire extinguishers would have been involved.”

  A burst of laughter slipped out of him, and he finally relaxed a little. He just wanted everything to be perfect tonight.

  “Everything’s wonderful, Seb. Let’s just relax and enjoy the evening together. Okay?”

  He exhaled hard. “Okay.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  ZANE DIDN’T taste any of the supper, which was no doubt delicious, lightly charred garlic bread notwithstanding. Nor did he taste the superior wine. And frankly, he would have been hard-pressed to repeat much of what they talked about over the meal.

  But he did register the way Sebastian’s eyes glowed bluer than ever in the flickering pool lights. And the way he got a small dimple in his left cheek when he smiled at Zane. He noticed how Sebastian’s powerful, callused hands ran ever so lightly over the delicate crystal stem of his wineglass. And how Sebastian seemed to hang on every word he said, as if what Zane had to say mattered deeply to him.

  He hated lying to Sebastian about where he’d been earlier. But it wasn’t like he had any choice. No way was he letting this Erebus bunch get their mitts on usable plates. They both were getting jerked around, he supposed. Him by Erebus, and Sebastian by the people who’d recruited him to deal with this situation.

  The last remnants of his earlier anger at hearing Sebastian declare that he could get Zane to do anything dissipated. Neither of them was blame-free in this mess.

  They lingered over the meal until the food was cold and the last of the wine savored. Zane never wanted their first official date to end. Full night fell around them, and the evening cooled quickly as high up as they were.

  Sebastian stood up and spoke into his watch. “Computer, play relaxing playlist number two.”

  Soft music started, and Zane looked around for the source but didn’t spot it. Must be hidden speakers. He shook his head. Sebastian and his tech toys.

  “You have an unrelaxing playlist?” he murmured.

  “I have a jack-me-up workout list and a piss-me-off list.”

  “Piss me off? Whatever for?”

  “Sometimes I have to go into a meeting and kick asses, and I need to be in the proper frame of mind for that. After I spent my entire twenties working my tail off to become zen, it’s an effort for me to get good and pissed off these days.”

  Sebastian stood and held out his hand formally, palm up, silently asking for Zane’s hand. He complied, reveling in the strength and gentleness of Sebastian’s touch.

  “You’re shivering,” Sebastian murmured.

  “I’m a little cold.”

  “I know a cure for that. Dance with me?” Sebastian murmured.

  “I would love to.”

  Sebastian stepped forward, placing one hand on Zane’s waist and another on his shoulder, like they were at a junior high cotillion.

  “What are you doing?” Zane asked.

  “Dancing with you. I want to get it just right with you.”

  Zane smiled and moved forward, wrapping both his arms around Sebastian’s neck and plastering his body against Sebastian’s from chest to knees. “This is just right.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He tilted his chin to one side and kissed Sebastian, relishing the stubble that grazed his cheek and the warm fullness of Sebastian’s mouth. Everything about this man, this moment, was perfect. They swayed to the music, shuffling in a slow circle more than actually dancing, not that Zane cared as long as Sebastian kept kissing him like this, so slow and lazy, like they had all the time in the world together. Like this was the start of something very long-term.

  Strange how quickly things had changed for him. Two weeks ago he would have laughed his ass off at the notion of finding true love and settling down forever. But now… things like commitment and long-term relationships suddenly seemed not only possible but within his grasp.

  He checked himself sharply. Just because he was thinking that way didn’t mean Sebastian was.

  “What?” Sebastian murmured.

  He lifted his head off Sebastian’s shoulder and peered at him in the dim black glow of the pool. “What what?”

  “You tensed all of a sudden like you’d thought of something alarming.”

  “Ahh.” He stared fixedly over Sebastian’s shoulder at the black sky. “I was just, umm, thinking about us.”

  “What were you thinking about us?”

  “I was wondering if there is an ‘us.’” He hesitated, then mumbled, “And for how long.”

  A long pause. Long enough that Zane pulled back to be able to stare fully into Sebastian’s face. Dammit, he’d gone all inscrutable, and Zane couldn’t read a thing in his expression. “Help me out, here, Sebastian. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that I’m no good at this ‘talking about my feelings’ stuff.”

  Zane huffed. “It’s not hard. You just blurt out what’s in your gut and on the tip of your tongue to say. Go ahead. Give it a try.”

  Sebastian grinned ruefully. “We’ll have to dance some more. I can’t do this with you staring at me like that.”

  Zane promptly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s lean, hard waist, resting his head on Sebastian’s broad shoulder. “Okay. I’m not looking at you. So let rip.”

  “Well, at the exact moment you asked me what I was thinking, I was wondering how to get you into bed again without sounding like some old horndog who’s only interested in hot sex.”

  Zane chuckled. “That’s easy. You ask.”

  “Yeah, but how?”

  “You say something like, ‘I find you incredibly attractive and you make me insanely horny. I think about you constantly, and I’ve imagined a hundred things I’d like to do with you and to you. I really like you. All of you. Not just your looks but your mind, your humor, your intelligence. I like the way you hold a wineglass, and how much I love to t
alk with you, and how you make me feel when I’m with you. Would you do me the great honor of retiring to the bedroom with me and exploring our mutual attraction for each other until we’re both too fucking exhausted to stand up?’”

  “Wow. That’s quite a speech. I don’t think I could remember all that.”

  Zane laughed and smacked Sebastian’s upper arm. “Don’t be a jerk.”

  Sebastian stopped moving to the music and took Zane’s shoulders in his hands. He leaned back to look him in the eyes and said gruffly, “I’m no good at flowery words, but all of the stuff you just said? That. All of that.”

  Zane’s insides melted into a puddle right then and there. “You see?” he managed lightly. “That wasn’t so hard.”

  “Yeah, but did it work?”

  He laughed a little. “Hell yes, it worked. What are you waiting for, Mr. Gigoni? Take me to bed.”

  They practically ran through the penthouse to a big, airy bedroom as sleek and open as the rest of the dwelling. Hastily they helped each other undress, laughing and kissing and teasing each other as ties and pants and socks went flying every which way.

  Zane threw back the coverlet, and Sebastian practically jumped onto the mattress. He looked like an eager puppy, and Zane had to laugh. He stepped up to the bed and threw his leg across Sebastian’s hips, straddling him and staring down at him. The humor faded from their gazes as they stared at each other. They had secrets between them. They still had big problems to iron out. Sebastian had good reason not to trust him completely, and he probably deserved the doubts. For that matter, he wasn’t 100 percent sure why Sebastian was doing all of this either.

  But this was real, this thing between them.

  Very slowly, inch by inch, Zane bent down until his mouth paused a hair’s width from Sebastian’s. “Thank you for tonight,” he whispered.

  “The night’s just getting started.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m saying thank you now. Before I’m too wiped out and blown away to remember to say it.”

  Sebastian slipped his hand into Zane’s hair and pulled him down the last millimeter. As their lips met, he murmured against Zane’s mouth, “You’re welcome. But I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

  Their lovemaking was a slow give-and-take, easy and sensual, tonight. They explored each other’s bodies, learning shapes and textures, cataloging ticklish spots and the spots that drove their partner crazy. Sometimes Zane crawled all over Sebastian’s muscular frame, and sometimes Sebastian surged up and returned the favor. At other times they wrestled playfully, Sebastian restraining his strength carefully, both evening the odds and protecting Zane from harm.

  Zane was generally a bold and confident lover, but in the presence of Sebastian, he found himself unaccountably shy when they finally lay face-to-face with Sebastian looming over him, big and dark.

  “Look at me, Zane.”

  He opened his eyes and stared up at Sebastian, fascinated by the ticking muscle in his temple. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I want to be inside you so bad I could explode.”

  The shyness faded in the face of Sebastian’s confession. “Well, don’t explode. I want you inside me before that happens.”

  Sebastian positioned himself correctly and then slowly, inevitably, filled Zane to bursting. They stilled and traded the most naked, vulnerable gazes so far, while they registered and absorbed the joining of their bodies. His legs wrapped around his lover’s hips in welcome and acceptance.

  For the first time in his life, Zane truly understood the difference between sex and making love. The exhilaration breaking free of his chest, the sense of oneness with Sebastian, the almost religious nature of the moment overwhelmed him. He was utterly shattered. Moisture escaped the corner of his eye.

  Shifting his weight to his left elbow, Sebastian pushed the hair off Zane’s forehead and studied him in concern. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m more than okay. I’m amazed. And humbled.”

  “Humbled? What for? You’re the stunning high-fashion model. I’m just a hairy Italian dude.”

  Zane reached up to frame Sebastian’s face. “Don’t ever say something like that to me again. We’re us. Just us. None of the rest of it matters. Okay?”

  Something fierce and free passed through Sebastian’s gaze, erasing all the doubts in his eyes. “Okay.” A pause. “I’m completely addicted to you.”

  Not exactly a declaration of true love, but he would take it. He was addicted to Sebastian too. And maybe even more than that.

  Zane groaned with pleasure as Sebastian began moving within him. Slowly at first, then with increasing force and urgency. The pleasure in his own gut built and built, climbing through him until it was clawing to get out, demanding release. He thrust up at Sebastian more and more frantically, chasing the pleasure he felt hovering just out of reach.

  On and on into the night, they drove each other, pushing each other further and further toward the brink of something indescribable. And all the while, Sebastian stared down at him and he stared back, their gazes locked and their souls stripped completely bare. The intimacy of it was staggering.

  And just when Zane didn’t think he could take one more second of the pleasure overload, Sebastian paused, partially withdrawn from Zane’s body. Zane froze as well, arched up against the hot, sweaty glory of Sebastian’s body. Their gazes met one last time, and then Sebastian slammed into him with a shout, and Zane exploded as well. His entire body and soul emptied into the crashing moment of exquisite pleasure, so sharp and intense it was nearly painful.

  Sebastian collapsed on top of him, and Zane wrapped his arms weakly around Sebastian’s torso, hanging on for dear life as he slowly fell back toward earth.

  Eventually he became aware of breathing. Of Sebastian’s heaving chest. Of Sebastian’s delicious weight pressing him down into the mattress. “Wow,” he breathed.

  “Yeah. That. Wow,” Sebastian panted back.

  Not tonight, but soon, he would tell Sebastian about making the fake plates. About hoping to keep the money now sitting in his bank account so he could finance a new future for himself. And just maybe, he would tell Sebastian that he’d fallen in love with him. He would come clean and there would be no more secrets between them. And when that was taken care of, he would be whole again. Whole and complete and truly loved for the first time in his life.

  ZANE WOKE up feeling better than he could ever remember. He’d had some spectacular highs in his life—some drug-induced and some not—but none of them were even a pale shadow of the joy he felt now. There’d been no talk last night of the future or of long-term relationships. But there didn’t need to be. He’d rocked Sebastian’s world every bit as much as Sebastian had rocked his. In a state of bliss, he stared up at the ceiling, lazily enjoying the play of shadows on the ceiling as the air conditioner gently fluttered the gauze sheers over the floor-to-ceiling window.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Sebastian said from the doorway. He was fully dressed in wool trousers and a crisply starched white shirt. There he was—the wealthy executive. Hot, hot, hot, a little voice in the back of Zane’s head chanted.

  Zane sat up smiling, the gray sheets pooling around his hips. “If I’m tired this morning, it’s because somebody kept me up half the night, blowing my mind.”

  “Blowing your mind, huh?” Sebastian leaned against the doorjamb, grinning back.

  Zane got out of bed and strolled over to him naked, enjoying the feel of Sebastian’s fine cotton dress shirt against his skin. “Good morning to you too,” he murmured and then kissed Sebastian.

  Instantly Sebastian straightened, his arms going around Zane possessively. The kiss deepened, and Zane felt Sebastian’s interest stir behind his zipper. But then Sebastian turned him loose and stepped back regretfully.

  “Unfortunately, we’ve got an appointment in an hour.”

  “We do?”

  “The engraver. We have to take the plates to him to see if he can tell us anythi
ng about who made them.”

  Zane’s hope for a morning quickie evaporated. He’d hoped to put Sebastian in a good mood before he made his big confession. The magic spell of last night was broken, and the stress and worry of getting rid of those stupid currency plates rushed back in.

  He opened his mouth to tell Sebastian that they needed to talk, to admit that he’d defaced the original plates, but Sebastian whirled away and strode toward the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “Are you hungry?”

  “After last night?” Zane called back. “No twigs and berries for me this morning. I could eat a horse.”

  “Go take a shower, and I’ll cook breakfast for you.”

  “Deal. See you in a few.”

  Tonight. He would arrange for a romantic evening, maybe a little wine—correction, a lot of wine—get Sebastian drunk and mellow, and then he’d tell all. A plan in place, Zane caught himself racing through showering, shaving, and dressing because he was in a hurry to get back to Sebastian. Lord, he was a goner.

  He stopped in the great room just outside the kitchen to absorb that thought. He was a goner. He was head over heels for Sebastian. Son of a gun. He sure as heck hadn’t seen this coming when he’d been standing at that luggage carousel at JFK, panicking over where his suitcase had gone.

  He stepped into the kitchen and into Sebastian’s arms, pancakes and sausage forgotten. “You, sir, are a miracle. I’m so glad you came into my life.”

  Sebastian laughed. “Trust me. The miracle is all for me. I couldn’t in my wildest dreams have imagined that a man like you would ever see anything redeeming in a guy like me.”

  “Consider yourself redeemed,” Zane declared.

  Sebastian snorted. “You don’t even know the full list of my sins yet.”

  “So tell me all of them while I eat that delicious stack of pancakes I spy on the table.”