Golden Dancer (12 page)

He reached down to caress the head of his lover.
What
? No silky mane. Thick, slightly coarse.
Who
? His hips had a mind of their own and pushed up into the hot mouth consuming him. He felt again. Daniel’s hair! It must be Daniel’s mouth. His body didn’t give a shit. It just wanted the sucking to go on and on.

Suddenly he was squinting against a room light, soft but startling. He glanced over and saw that Trelain had turned on the bedside lamp. He also saw Daniel’s big body crouched above him, sucking like a champ. Oh. My. God. Feeling—indescribable. Visual—mind-blowing! The silver head bobbing up and down over his cock, those carved lips wrapped around his dick like he owned it. Then Trelain scooted under Daniel and began to suck on him. Oh, crap, Mac knew just how good those hot lips felt, but if anything, Daniel was better. My God, where did these men get skills like this? A little voice whispered “experience.”

Gasping, Mac realized that Trelain was lying on his back with that beautiful pink cock sticking hard against his abdomen. Jesus, did he dare? Sure as shit, no one was watching him, so maybe this was the time to try. He reached over and grabbed Trelain’s dick and pulled very gently so he’d get the idea. The man caught on quick and scooted that muscular butt across the sheets until Mac could rise up and get his mouth in the right vicinity. Daniel pressed on his legs. Oh yeah, good idea. He rolled to the side, Daniel did the same, and then Trelain followed. They were a circle. A circle of sex, if Mac just had the nerve.

His cock was on fire, hips ramming into Daniel’s wide, wet mouth. Trelain’s dick filled his field of vision. It must be aching for some action. He reached out his tongue and lapped. He heard an
umph
from Trelain, whose mouth was otherwise occupied. He licked again and then again. Musky, salty, like when he tasted his own cum after he jerked off. Yeah. No jerking off needed tonight. He wrapped his lips around that long, slender cock and got a deep moan for his efforts. What an odd feeling. Never had such a full mouth. Smooth, soft and hard all at once. The smell was so Trelain. A fresh, clean scent, like sunshine on linen. It felt right.

Yeah, he was a novice, but he knew what he liked. He sucked hard and deep and then swallowed. Almost gagged from too much enthusiasm, but Trelain’s whimpers set him off. A straight guy would find this disgusting. He must not be straight, because he loved it. It was Trelain, and there was nothing about that beautiful rod he didn’t like—the taste, the smell, the feel of it pushing in and out of his mouth.

Daniel was going to town on his cock, and clearly Mr. Happy liked it, because he was crazy to come. Mac didn’t want to go without Trelain, so he sucked harder. Both of the other men were moaning and grunting as they licked and swallowed. Crap, the sounds alone could make you come. Yeah baby, some of those moans were his. His hips pistoned like mad into Daniel, and he was fighting not to get choked by Trelain’s thrusting cock. He just sucked harder until Trelain squealed and his hips went crazy. Mac realized that Trelain was going to come just as his own cock turned into a gusher, heat flashed through his body, and he felt Daniel swallowing his load, his throat working around his cock with sweet suction. Splat. Hot, salty spunk hit the back of his throat. He choked, pulled away, and took squirt after squirt of semen straight in his face. “Crap!”

For a second, he gasped. Then he started to laugh as cum dripped from his nose onto his lips. Yeah, men were messy. Messy in every way.

He opened his eyes tentatively, afraid to get semen in them, and found the turquoise gaze looking at him anxiously. “You all right?”

He smiled. Surprisingly, he was. “Yeah. I’ve just never done that before, and it took me by surprise.”

Trelain lay down luxuriously on his side, stretching those long, hard-muscled legs. Daniel watched them both, still on his side, his cock relaxed in front of him. Clearly, Trelain must have had a protein shake as well.

The dancer arched his back like some kind of feline creature. “Well, you’ve lost your amateur status, Yank, because that was one bloody good blowjob.” Okay, was it sick to feel a little proud at that comment?

Daniel laughed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He rolled off the bed, went into the john, and came back with two wet towels. Mac reached for one and got his hand brushed aside. “Let me.” Gently, the big man wiped the drying semen from Mac’s face, looking at him like he was some work of art he was restoring. It felt odd to be so totally focused upon—especially by a guy you thought of as a nemesis and a rival. When Daniel seemed satisfied, he took the other cloth and lovingly wiped Trelain’s chest and groin where some of the spunk had scattered when Mac retreated.

Daniel took the wet cloth back to the bathroom, then came in and pulled the covers up from where they had fallen during their oral session. “It’s late, gentlemen. Or early, if you prefer. Shall we get some sleep so we can enjoy Trelain’s last day of vacation?”

Mac glanced at the bedside clock. Two forty. So, Daniel must have come into the bedroom at the end of the party and been unable to resist all that male flesh laid out in his bed. Mac watched as Trelain scooted to the side and turned his back as if to let Mac spoon him again. Daniel sat on the edge of the bed. What was going to happen? If Mac spooned Trelain, then that meant Daniel was—Jesus, did he want that? The blue-black eyes gazed at him. There was a challenge there, but not aggression that he could see. He could ask for Trelain to be in the middle. Surely that would make more sense. But if he was honest, that gave him more than a twinge of jealousy. The dancer lay still, as if he too was waiting for an important decision.

Mac shrugged. ”I may get restless.”

Daniel gave a tiny smile. “Not a problem.”

Mac wrapped his naked body around the golden man. He lay still and tense as the lights went off, and he felt that big, long body, warm as hell, wrap around his back. Jesus, he could even feel the softened cock against his butt cheeks. Talk about your firsts.

Not someplace he’d ever thought to be. But weirdly, it felt nice. Warm, cozy, kind of safe. Yep, he was gay.

Chapter Thirteen

Daniel opened the bedroom door quietly and looked back at his sleeping companions. Mac and Trelain were still wrapped together like a litter of very sexy puppies. For a guy who’d been kidding himself for decades, Mac sure took to this sex with men business like a natural. Of course, that was because he was gay. Daniel felt a little sorry for him. How hard must it have been to bury his natural tendencies so thoroughly for so long? He wondered why he had, then shrugged and slipped out into the hall.

It was tough for him to sleep past seven, even when he went to bed at two or three—the hard-working habits of his very entrepreneurial life. He heard activity in the house. Carlos and the cook would both be doing their thing. He could get in some office time before the guys woke up.

Down the hall, he unlocked his office door, went over to his desk, and sat, then logged into his computer with the security code and waited for access. He really wanted Trelain to have a wonderful last day in Laguna. Of course, he hoped this was only the last day for now. No way was he giving up the dancer. Trelain was beautiful, talented, smart, fun, and complicated. All the things he loved in a man and more. There was a tenderness, an uncertainty beneath that brittle British exterior that captivated him.

And the other one? Mac. Trelain was gone on the man. It was obvious. Oh, he cared about Daniel too, but there was a special feeling for Mac. Just watching his face as he danced with Mac last night made that clear.

Something inside Daniel had shifted. Trelain wanted Mac? Trelain got Mac, if Daniel had anything to say about it. Yeah, he knew it was carrying his charitable nature way too far. He should have let the guy leave and never admit to himself he was gay. It would have been in Daniel’s best interest. But he couldn’t do it. The guy was likable and seeing him suffering because of his own delusion hurt. Mac really cared about Trelain, and Daniel knew how that felt.

He leaned back in his chair and smiled. Yeah, and it wasn’t exactly a hardship for him so far. The guy was sexy and too smart for his own good. Daniel had watched on the sly last night as Mac had contemplated the mysteries of sucking a man’s cock. From fear, to resolve, to enthusiasm, Daniel had tracked the path of this gay virgin, and loved the sheer wonder of it. Yeah, no hardship.

A sharp
ding
brought his eyes up to the screen. Urgent. He opened the message. His informer told him Von Berg had hired at least one person to “prove” that Daniel had stolen the
Golden Dancer
. The informant did not yet know the identity of the person. Daniel snorted at the screen. Fucking lot of good this information was. The informant advised caution. Daniel frowned and erased the message. “Prove” in Von Berg terms meant lie, plant, frame, and blackmail. Caution indeed. Who would the old bastard use to try and prove his case? Someone who could get close to Daniel, clearly. Household staff? Those wonderful, quiet people who slipped through your life on cat feet until you barely noticed? Carlos had been with him for years. George too. The maid? Hell, no use driving himself crazy. The person would show up soon enough.

He pulled some papers from his desk, rose, and crossed to the side wall. As he reached for the painting that hid the safe, he looked down. What the hell? A backpack. He sat down beside it on his office couch. Had to be Mac’s. He’d noticed the reporter carrying it during the photo shoot. But how did it get in here? Thinking back on the party last night—Jesus, was it only last night?—he realized Mac must have carried it with him, and perhaps asked Carlos to stash it for him. That’s how distraught the guy had been that he hadn’t asked for it when he’d tried to make his escape.

He reached for the backpack’s zipper and paused. He’d just been sucking the guy’s cock. He grinned. That sure as hell didn’t mean he trusted him. The e-mail from his investigator flashed in his mind. Could Mac be a Von Berg stooge? Didn’t seem likely. How would Von Berg have ever found him?

The zipper was the work of a moment. He pulled out the laptop, turned it on, and waited for boot up. Several tries at the password produced no results. Hmm, the guy must be making more than the usual effort to keep people out of his business. Probably just reporter paranoia. Daniel wished he had access to one of the string of hackers he kept on hand at the company. They were so useful on so many occasions. But Mac would be looking for his laptop when he woke up. No time.

As he opened the pack to put the laptop away, he saw a slip of paper with a phone number that looked vaguely familiar. He was really good with numbers, but just couldn’t place it. He took the paper to the desk and copied the number on a pad, then returned it to Mac’s pack, trying to replace things the way he’d found them. Would the reporter notice if someone had messed with his stuff? It would be interesting to know how vigilant he actually was. He sealed up the backpack and put it back on the couch exactly where he’d found it.

Better call his assistant. It might be the weekend, but Terrebone Enterprises didn’t rest. He reached for his cell phone and realized he’d left it on the bedside table. Hmmm. That was careless of him.

* * *

Phone was ringing. Mac fumbled through a fog and reached to where the phone should have been. All he felt was smooth, warm skin. He pulled his hand back like he’d been burned. Oh yeah, that’s where he was. Jesus, phone wouldn’t stop. He pulled away from Trelain’s hard back and turned over toward the ringing. The light of a cell phone shone on the bedside table. Light also peeked around the edge of the blackout curtains, and Daniel wasn’t there. Mac grabbed for the phone as the bedroom door opened.

Daniel hissed. “Hey, Mac. I forgot and left that here.”

Mac extended the phone toward Daniel but glanced at the screen as he did.
Stefan
. Shit! He extended the phone. “Sorry, woke me up. Didn’t know where I was for a second. Thought it was my phone.”

Daniel rounded the bed and took the phone, which had ceased ringing. “Yeah, sorry. It was careless of me.”

It sure was. Stefan Saltz was the name John had given him. Had Daniel noticed his hesitation? Probably not. He watched Terrebone check the missed calls. The man glanced toward him.
Yeah, you should worry, you thief.

Trelain turned over and stretched like a lazy cat, his beautiful lean body arching. “You gits are making one hell of a lot of noise for the middle of the night.”

Daniel chuckled. “It’s past eight thirty in the morning, dear heart.”

“Like I said, the middle of the night. But if you two are going to declare it morning”—he ripped the covers off a very erect penis—“I want my cock sucked.”

And just like that, Mac felt himself shift from reporter mode to lover mode. The thought of Trelain’s lovely dick in his mouth again felt right, natural. Shit. Chances of being gay? Well over fifty percent. His smile was tight. Plus, he didn’t have to do a lot more clue-searching today. How many people knew someone named Stefan?

Chapter Fourteen

What a surreal day. Mac watched the people in the small art gallery watch Trelain watch the art. Yeah, he was something to see all right. The definition of perfection. The golden hair fell around his shoulders and some light touch of makeup made those turquoise eyes look huge and even more brilliant. People who didn’t follow ballet wouldn’t know who he was, but anyone could tell he was someone special. Daniel chatted with the gallery owner at the back of the store. Mac could hear the man explaining his plans for bringing in new works, and Daniel seemed enthralled.

Mac shook his head. He’d crawled on his belly in Afghanistan, interviewed a serial killer in prison, even attended a “pony play” party where all the participants dressed up as horses and their riders, but today took the cake. He was walking around Laguna with two men—beautiful, ostentatious, and gay men. Did that announce he was also gay? It was one thing to know it himself, but to tell others?
And how do you feel about discovering you are gay at twenty-seven, Mr. MacAllister, thereby having spent your life to date kidding yourself
? Should he have seen the signs? Hell, yeah. How many times had he thought a man was good-looking but didn’t think he felt any differently than other guys? The cute intern Debbie had talked about. Mac had thought he was cute. And there was Paavo. God, he’d hung pictures of the guy on his wall and stared at them. He’d told his dad and himself how much he admired the guy’s art. Yeah, but that didn’t explain why he gazed at those pictures when he jerked off. Pain filled his chest. How could a person who so prized the truth have been so self-deluded?