Max and the Prince (8 page)

And Max would be watching. He’d be watching and would know
that Lucien wasn’t a pathetic excuse for a man who couldn’t even look after
himself. He’d see someone that possibly wasn’t so weak.

He finished the race, then sunk under the water. He didn’t
care where he’d come in. None of it mattered. He was done and just ever so
slightly embarrassed he’d been swimming to prove to Max what he could do.

When he rose again there was cheering and a quick glance up showed
him Kev holding up two fingers with a grin on his face.

So I kept second
, Lucien thought.
Yes!

The party was in a small room above Revolution. The castle
opposite was still lit up from Christmas even though it was the middle of
January, and Lucien wondered why the lights hadn’t been taken down yet. He
didn’t vocalize the question, instead he concentrated on listening to what
people were saying around him. Max was somewhat of a hero based on his stepping
in for the team, and Lucien was getting plenty of praise for coming in second
in the butterfly. Overall, CU had won by a clear margin.

Lucien had a Coke.
A whole bottle of Coke
. Max had
reassured him, said it was okay to let go if he wanted to and get a beer, but
Lucien had his own demons and wasn’t ready for that tonight. He kind of liked
the idea of a beer buzz, but being out with Max at his side was more than
enough for the time being.

They’d eaten chicken and fries, and salad, and more fries,
and ordered even more chicken, and slowly the people around him and Max were
getting drunk. Max had used the excuse that he was on antibiotics, which earned
him even more hero points with the team—as well as the usual teasing about what
he would be on antibiotics for. The music was loud, and Lucien was actually
having a good time.

“Dance!” Kev demanded and dragged him up to the small dance
floor made from the space left after they’d cleared some of the central tables.
All of the girls and half the boys had taken to the floor and were doing some
kind of complicated dance routine to the song. Lucien had heard the song before
but never seen the coordinated dance that everyone else seemed to know. He
muddled his way through, and somehow, halfway through, he not only got the hang
of the dance, but he found he was enjoying himself. Every so often he would
meet Max’s gaze, and he realized Max was staring at him.

Guarding him.

It’s okay to dance. No one will hurt me if Max is here.

The music spiraled, the beat a bass that shook the floor and
sent vibrations through his body, and for a while he just stood still and
allowed himself to feel. The team danced around him, everyone in their own
worlds, and still Max stared.

“It’s hot in here,” Mickey said as he pulled off his shirt.
He tucked it in his jeans and laughed as Kev grabbed him and whirled him away.
What it must be like to be here in public while taking off his shirt and dancing?
Before he even thought about it, Lucien yanked at the red tee and pulled it up
and off, his long layers falling this way and that as he shook his head free.
He copied Mickey and tucked it into the belt of his worn jeans, then closed his
eyes and let the music take him away from life. From exhaustion and wariness
and grief. Just everything.

When hands grasped his hips, he didn’t have to open his eyes
to know it was Max. He could smell him, the citrus and whatever it was that
uniquely defined the man. He was solid and strong and determined as he stepped
closer, and finally Lucien opened his eyes. Max was there, bright blue eyes
intent, hands gripping Lucien’s hips tight.

“They made me come over,” Max apologized by shouting over
the music in his ear. A quick glance at the table saw the entire women’s side
of the team giggling and gesturing. Two of them were making kiss faces.

“Let’s make their night,” Lucien decided. He didn’t know
what was wrong with him, but being close to Max on this crazy chaotic dance floor
was the closest to sex he been in a while and hell, he wanted to have sex. With
Max, with anyone.

No, just with Max.

Max laughed, and Lucien stole the laugh by pressing an openmouthed
kiss to Max’s lips. Messy and uncoordinated when it began, Max grasped control
and suddenly they were kissing in the middle of others on a dance floor with
the bass of the song matching the rhythm of Lucien’s heart. And the kiss was
hot. It was hard and passionate, and Lucien wanted to climb inside Max right there
in front of everyone.

“Let’s go,” Max shouted as he broke their kiss. They picked
up their bags from under the seats and wound through the crowd saying their goodbyes,
gripping tightly to each other’s hand.

The cold air outside hit them, and Max dropped Lucien’s
hand. Lucien was disappointed and relieved. He didn’t want to stop holding
hands, but to actually be touching Max meant more to him than he had realized.
He liked the spiky bodyguard with all his growly protectiveness. Max must have
caught his expression because he seemed to feel Lucien was owed an explanation.

“I need to keep a hand free just in case.”

That made sense, and as they walked back to the house,
Lucien decided he would try to focus on the tone of apology in Max’s voice and
not let doubts creep in. Doubts made him wary and he didn’t want wary tonight.
He didn’t know how far he wanted to take it, but he certainly wanted more
kisses.

Max did his usual checks when they got in the house, but not
before he stole another kiss by the front door. A promise for more.

Lucien took their bags into the kitchen and threw the wet
swimming stuff into the wash before putting on the coffee, then sitting at the
table. Then standing up and leaning on the countertop. Then sitting down again.
Did he look more of a dork standing or sitting? Or should he be lying on the
sofa with his legs spread and his dick out, wearing nothing more than a smile?

Mentally he berated himself for his train of thought. In
theory, the idea of being naked on the sofa could lead to sex. In practice,
though, Lucien had no idea what kind of shit collected on that heap of a sofa in
the corner. He never sat on it if he could help it—and that was fully clothed.
Damn thing was Jamie’s sofa. Lucien had been the one to help Jamie move it in
when they first got this house, and even then it had smelled of God knows what.

“What’s wrong?” Max asked from the door. He passed by to get
coffee but not before he placed a hand firmly on Lucien’s shoulder and
squeezed.

“I was thinking about Jamie,” he lied. Thinking about sex on
Jamie’s sofa was close enough to actually thinking about Jamie himself. “Uhm,
he was off this morning.”

“Off in what way?” Max asked the question as he sat down, on
a kitchen chair, not the sofa in question.
Good call.
He was clearly
trying for nonchalant, but Max never asked questions that didn’t have a
purpose.

Lucien sighed. He had seen something off in Jamie this
morning but it wasn’t enough to comment on. Still, Max needed him to say
something. “He asked to borrow a fiver and I gave it to him, but he didn’t seem
himself
. Like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

Max sipped his black coffee, wincing at either the fact it
was shit coffee or the fact it was probably too hot. “Do you often lend him
money?”

Lucien considered the question. It was a loaded question, but
he knew to be honest when he answered. He didn’t want to come over as a blind upper-class
idiot who didn’t see addiction when presented with it.

“I lend him a fiver, maybe enough for weed if he was
desperate, a beer, milk, I don’t know. I mean, I buy all the groceries for this
place, although he doesn’t seem to eat much other than the frozen pizzas. He
once asked to borrow fifty, but I cut him dead because I know he’s using
something. He knows where I keep my money but he never touches it. That has to
tell you something.”

Max tilted his head and looked directly at him. “That’s
perceptive and probably the best way to deal with it.”

Lucien preened a little inside. Kind respectful words from
Max had somehow become so important to Lucien in the few weeks they’d been
together.

“I may be naïve, but I’m not stupid, and holding his hair
back after he was sick once earned me the whole story.”

“And what is the story?”

“Pretty sad one. He was the only survivor of a car accident
at seventeen, prescribed pain pills, became addicted, and it’s just got worse.”

“I saw him when I first got here handing money over for a
bag.”

Lucien nodded. “He does that. When his student money comes in,
he does two things: pays the rent and stocks up on his pills. He’s stable. I
offered help, but he doesn’t want my help, he wants my friendship. So that is
what I try to do.”

“Don’t you ever think that you’re enabling him?”

Sadness flooded Lucien. “Of course I do. But if I push and
he goes, then I can’t look after him. He’s hardly here, but I make sure there’s
food, I keep the place tidy, and I check in on him if he’s at home.”

Max reached out and held Lucien’s hand across the table. “We
need to talk.”

Lucien sighed and turned his hand up to grasp at Max. “About
what?”

“The kiss.”

“It was a good kiss.” Lucien couldn’t help being defensive.
It had been a very nice, sexy, passionate, long kiss.

“I like you, Lucien Magrello.”

“I sense a
but
.”

“There’s always a
but
.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a prince, you’re not, you’re too old for
me, blah blah.”

Max chuckled and squeezed tight. “I’m only three years older
than you, and I may not be a prince, but my great-granddad’s uncle’s niece worked
for Winston Churchill in World War Two. I have pedigree, you know.” He was
teasing and Lucien knew he should be laughing but all he could feel was
embarrassed that he’d even said what he said. What was it about Max that made
Lucien come out with some real crap?

“So it’s the bodyguard thing, then.”

“It’s a compromise.”

“You can’t tell me bodyguards don’t end up kissing some of
their clients.”

Max snorted a laugh and hid it behind a cough before making
a big show of drinking his coffee. “Real life isn’t like the film.”

“What film?”

“
The Bodyguard
.”

Lucien dipped his eyes. He didn’t recall ever seeing that
film, his sheltered childhood had a lot to answer for, not least that he also
hadn’t actually seen
Captain America
, which Jamie assured him was like
heaven
for the gays
. Jamie said a lot of crap like that. Lucien had actually
looked up clips on YouTube and couldn’t at first see what was supposed to amuse
him, until the shirtless scene… he’d played that a lot. Come to think of it, Max
reminded him a little of the
Captain America
guy, only shorter. Same
blond hair and just a way of holding himself that…

“Earth to prince, earth to prince.” Max waved his free hand
in front of Lucien’s face, and Lucien blinked back to the here and now.

“Sorry, you were saying?”

“Just that we should maybe think of getting to bed. It’s one
a.m. and you have practice in just over five hours.”

“Not the day after an event. I always have that day off.”

Silence.

Awkward expectant silence that Lucien hated. He hadn’t meant
anything by that simple statement. He wasn’t arguing with Max or asking Max for
more, he’d been stating fact, but it felt like he’d committed some huge social
faux pas. His need to survive the awkwardness kicked in and pulled his hand
free of Max’s, then stood up, faking a yawn as he did.

“You don’t have to go,” Max said. He looked a little
confused, and who could blame him. Lucien was completely fucked up and didn’t
know what the hell to do with all this lust and embarrassment coursing through
him.

“I do. I’m tired. Well done today,” he said. Before Max
could say a thing in return, Lucien was up the stairs and into his room with
his door shut. He couldn’t process this roller coaster, and for a few moments,
he wondered if Max was going to come up after him. He waited with bated breath.
What would he do if Max wanted to do more kissing—or more than just kissing? What
if Max pushed past what was right in this situation and actually made Lucien do
the same thing?

When Max didn’t immediately run up the stairs and push open
Lucien’s door, Lucien deflated. Whether from relief or disappointment, it was
hard to tell, but whatever the cause, he was suddenly tired, so he stripped and
climbed into bed. At the last minute, he pulled over his laptop and went searching
for the film that Max had mentioned.

Might as well see why Max kissing him was a bad thing,
besides the obvious of course. And try to understand why Max was breaking that
form right now by wanting more.

Max stayed downstairs for exactly forty minutes; enough time
to make sure Lucien would be asleep.
 Max knew he’d
overstepped the boundaries tonight. Although nothing in the BI Handbook—if
there was one—would say that attraction should be shelved. How could it? You
put a gay bodyguard with a gay charge and you’re going to get some fireworks if
the two men liked each other that way.

Especially if the bodyguard thought his charge was sexy,
hot, serious, conflicted, needy, strong, and way too many other things that Max
couldn’t even categorize.

Surely attraction didn’t make a bodyguard lax in his role. Shouldn’t
it do completely the opposite? A kiss wasn’t likely to put Lucien in danger,
but too much focus from Max on said kiss might leave Lucien exposed.

After he checked that everything was locked, he made his way
upstairs, passing Lucien’s room with its sliver of light under the door.
Clearly the prince was still awake. For a second Max considered stopping and
knocking on the door, but he walked past to his own room. Once inside he
checked his email. New files had been sent over from Ross, case studies on the
other team and photos from Ruby, who had taken them at the meet. Max had seen
her in one of the middle rows alongside parents and other students, though she’d
blended in like a typical observer. She’d taken over two hundred photos and
each one had been loaded into a folder open to Max.

He copied them all to a new folder, then one by one he
clicked through them, dragging and dropping them into various subfolders
according to subject matter, swimmers in one, team photos in there as well,
parents another, students filed away, and that left just looking through each
one just to see if anything was out of place.

He got halfway through before he realized it was half two
and really he needed sleep. There was no point checking these photos out when
his eyes were scratchy. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, mental images of
the meet and the swim and Lucien looking so damn cute and happy keeping him
awake, but finally he found his peaceful place. He was just nodding off when
his door slammed open, then shut again.

He bolted upright, his feet on the floor in an instant,
fight coursing through him, relaxing only when he realized it was Lucien inside
his room.

“What’s wrong?” Max asked immediately.

“I watched the film. Well, not all of it, I fast forwarded a
lot of it.”

Max blinked as he tried to make head or tails of that.
Lucien standing there in his jersey shorts was enough of a distraction, let
alone the buzzing in his head from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Lucien looked
a little uncertain, then that was pushed aside and he stepped forward.

“I like you,” he said.

Max had nowhere to go, the bed behind his knees, and for
every step Lucien took nearer, Max wished he had somewhere to move.

“I like you too,” Max admitted.

“I like you in a sexual need kind of way.”

Max tried not to smile. That statement was so Lucien with all
its brutal honesty couched in appropriate use of words.

“So you just want me for my body?” Max teased. He liked
teasing Lucien and cursed that the moonlight wasn’t enough for him to see the
flush of embarrassment on Lucien’s cheeks that he knew had to be there.

“It seems expedient,” Lucien said. “You’re here and I like
you, and I’m here and you didn’t seem to have any issues with the kiss earlier,
so I was considering whether we should…” Words appeared to fail him. “You
know.”

“Have sex? Make love?”

“Both. Either. I don’t know. Just, with no expectations or recriminations
from either party.”

Lucien took another step closer, which given the size of the
room meant he was now within reach, and Max’s eyes were fully accustomed to the
moonlit room. Max could see Lucien’s hairless chest, shaved for swimming, the
flat cinnamon discs of his nipples, the treasure trail that darkened his skin
down into those intriguing boxer briefs. Then the breadth of his swimmer’s
physique, broad shoulders, strong neck, and not an ounce of spare fat. A gay
man’s wet dream, Max decided.
Well, this gay man anyway
.

“
No
expectations?” he asked.

Lucien deflated a little. “I get I am saying this all wrong.
I’m not this great expert in the ways of—”

Max cut off any further explanation by gripping Lucien’s
biceps and tugging him close. Lucien stumbled and let out a small moan at the
same time, and just as quick as that, a switch flipped that Max couldn’t turn
off if he tried. He wanted Lucien under him, around him, he just wanted him.
Fuck the consequences, but he had to have the innocence that was Lucien and let
Lucien take whatever he wanted in return.

The first kiss was brutal, a clash of teeth and tongues, Max
pulling Lucien closer until there were no room between them, his hands tight
like a vice on Lucien’s arms and Lucien’s hands on Max’s waist gripping just as
firmly. They were both hard and the noises Lucien was making in his throat
showed he was as turned-on as Max.

With a practiced move, Max turned them and shoved Lucien
back on the bed so fiercely that Lucien bounced before finally sprawling
against Max’s quilt. He didn’t say anything, just held up a hand that Max took.
Max straddled Lucien and pressed both of Lucien’s hands into the pillow behind him.
Lucien arched up into the touch and whimpered. There was no fear in the other
man, just need.

“I want you so much,” Max admitted. All the pent-up need and
emotion spilled out in those few words.

“Show me?” Lucien said a little desperately.

God, how much Max wished they had something here—condoms,
lube, anything. He wanted to be buried deep inside Lucien, and he’d do anything
to get there. What if they only had one night? What if they only had a few
hours?

“We can’t… I… We can just…” Then there was no point in
explaining. Lucien tilted his groin up and his hard cock pressed against Max’s
balls, and abruptly there was no thinking time at all. He’d have to be a
stronger man to ignore Lucien’s plea and the sexy man laid out under him. Sending
a quick apology up to Kyle and BI, he lowered his body until he was pressing
Lucien into the mattress. He waited to see if Lucien would complain or shift at
the weight, but if anything he loved it, tilting his head and offering the long
length of his neck. Max gripped Lucien’s hands tighter and kissed a trail of
heat from throat to lips, finally doing what he had wanted to do since they’d
left the party.

The kiss was intoxicating, and with the noises Lucien made—the
small pleas, the thank-yous, the sighs—Max was going mad. Lucien wriggled as
they kissed, and Max got with the act, pushing back against the moves until the
two of them were in sync, the hottest of kisses and the exquisite pleasure pain
of two hard cocks rubbing against each other. Every so often he would go a
little lower with his ass, drag his cock up from balls to tip, and every single
time Lucien melted a little farther into the quilt. The kisses deepened; Max
wanted to taste every inch of Lucien’s body, but he couldn’t pull himself away
from Lucien’s gorgeous mouth, and Lucien still hadn’t moved free of Max’s hold.

“Max…” Lucien muttered over and over between kisses. He
closed his eyes, tilted his head back, the kisses nothing more than sighs
between them, and he was coming, his face contorting in passion and a curse
slipping from those beautiful lips.

For Max it was game over, seeing Lucien come, hearing the
praise for what Max had done triggered his own orgasm, so hard he couldn’t
breathe, the physical tug too much for him to stay quiet. He shouted his
release, but he kissed Lucien through the explosion, and finally spent, he lay
just to one side of Lucien and released his hands.

What happened next was vital. Max had crossed a bridge with
this, let himself get carried away by dark brown eyes and a fucking gorgeous
body, not to mention the noises Lucien made as they’d ground against each
other. Was Lucien going to run back to his room mortified at what he’d done?

Lucien wriggled a little, then quickly curled up and pulled
off his briefs, wiping himself clean, then tossing them off the end of the bed.
He turned on his side and yawned. “Big spoon or little?” he asked sleepily.

So it was going to be that simple. No freak-out, just
rolling over and going to sleep. Max wasn’t going to make this wrong, and he
copied Lucien, wiping himself off and lying back down.

“Big spoon,” Max said. Lucien moved onto his other side and
Max was faced with an expanse of skin.

“Why am I not surprised, Mr. Big Bad Bodyguard?” Lucien murmured.

Max slotted himself behind Lucien and tensed when Lucien
wriggled back into him. This bed wasn’t the biggest but somehow they seemed to
fit. For a moment Max considered what to do with his hands, then realized he could
curl one up under his head and have the other draped over Lucien.

And just like that, they slept.

When Max woke, the alarm clock said it was 11:00 a.m. and
his cell showed two missed calls, both from Ross, and a voice mail. He listened
to the mail as best he could with one hand stuck under Lucien. A simple message
asking him to check his email with no sense of urgency had him relaxing back
against the mattress. Lucien snuffled in his sleep, the taller man scrunched
into a fetal position but still pressed back into Max. Max wriggled a little
and managed to extricate the arm that had gotten trapped under Lucien overnight.
He was halfway waiting for Lucien to wake up and regret everything.

Doesn’t matter.

Max was good at his job, and if he had to, he could chalk up
last night to experience. Lucien hadn’t drunk a beer, but he’d been happy and
sparkly and life had felt good.

Max used the bathroom and walked back into his room,
stretching. The sun streaming through the window fell on Lucien and highlighted
every visible peak and valley, every muscle covered in taut skin, the curve of
his ass, the V pointing down to everything covered by the quilt. He was still
asleep and, having rolled onto his back, was now taking up way more than his
half of the bed. He was beautiful. Max knelt on the bed, the movement tugging
at the quilt and revealing a little more of that treasure trail leading south.

Unbidden memories of last night flooded Max, of Lucien’s
need, his complete submission, and Max’s morning hardness became something
more. Carefully he pulled at the quilt, and for the first time got an up-close-and-personal
look at Lucien’s cock, half-hard and lying flat against his dark curls.

Max leaned over and pressed a kiss to the juncture of thigh
and groin, then another a little lower, concentrating on the muscled thighs,
then traveling up to kiss the base of Lucien’s cock, nuzzling his balls,
inhaling his scent and loving it. Lucien shifted a little and moaned, and Max
moved so he was straddling Lucien’s knees and he could concentrate on the job at
hand. He looked up and Lucien was staring right at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Don’t stop,” he said. His tone was sleep-rough and
pleading.

So much for backing off today, but hell, what kind of man
ignored a cock this pretty or words so damn needy? He could take Lucien so
high.

He closed his lips around the head of Lucien’s cock, tasting
the pearl of precome, laving the tip, sucking him down, then setting a rhythm
to send Lucien over the edge. He didn’t use hands, just his mouth, and when he
glanced up, Lucien had his head arched back, one of his fingers touching a
nipple. God, there was something so free and uninhibited about Lucien like this.
He might not have experience, but he was feeling every minute and wasn’t afraid
to show it.

Finally, when it was clear Lucien was close, Max pulled off
and loomed over him, using his hand to push Lucien over the edge while staring
into his brown eyes.

“Fuck…” Lucien came over his hand and Max kissed him, lowering
himself to lie on top of Lucien. He slipped and slid against the come with the
head of his own cock and couldn’t hold back from losing it hard and heavy
between them.

Lucien sighed noisily. “And I say again,
fuck
. What a
way to get woken up.”

Max rolled onto his back, almost falling off the side of the
bed before Lucien grabbed his arm and stopped him. Lucien laughed, a nice
sound.

“You okay this morning?” Max had to ask.

“No regrets,” Lucien said. “Best night—and morning—ever.
You?”

Max shook his head. Bodyguard or not, worries about crossing
lines aside, he’d loved every second of being with Lucien, and he just wanted
to do it again.

“Absolutely no regrets. None at all.”