Question Mark (29 page)

Now, with Mark shuddering against him, overcome with emotion, Zane’s defenses crumbled apart. The moment he’d seen Mark in that trailer, it wasn’t only anger powering through him. There was relief. There was a sense of loss. There was a heavy weight of hurt.

Zane took Mark’s bag from him and placed it next to his own, then helped him out of his coat. As Zane touched him, he pictured Christian’s hands on Mark’s face and body, his lips pressing on Mark’s, and the gentleness in his movements stopped. There in the entryway, Zane used his body to push Mark back against the wall—hard. His hands came up as Mark flinched and Zane slammed his palms against the wall above their heads.

Fury surrounded them until Zane dipped his head so all Mark could see was his face. “Why would you do it?” he growled. “Why…?” Mark opened his mouth to speak and Zane shook his head once, sensing his own anger giving way to sadness and confusion. His eyes hardened again as he lowered his mouth to Mark’s.

Zane was gentle, soaking in the vulnerable trembling that greeted him. “These lips,” he breathed. “They were
mine
.”

Zane’s tongue delved into Mark’s mouth in one smooth strike as his body tightened. “This
mouth
…” He sucked in a tormented breath. “God, Mark.” His mouth fell downward again and Mark opened for him as the kiss deepened for a body-scorching moment.
“You were mine.”

Zane punched the wall with a closed fist and it gave way, drywall dust running down and his hand not even registering the sting. “Fucking why would you come here after this? Do you just want to tell me you’re going to be with him?” he asked as he jerked away from Mark and paced into the main room, then back again. He stopped, afraid of the answer he was going to hear.

“Is that it? Are you going to be with him?” Zane’s heart hammered as he watched the play of emotions on Mark’s face.

“No…”
Mark half-cried. “I never
wanted
to be with Christian. I didn’t want to kiss him—”

“But you did!” Zane hissed, lunging forward again until there was no space between them. “You did.”

He grabbed Mark’s sweater in his fists and hauled him up, crushing their mouths together. Mark didn’t fight him; his hands gripped Zane’s shoulders and he gave back with hot pulses of his tongue. The situation was out of control, Zane knew this, but he had no other outlet for the passion and anger firing his body.

Mark broke away from him for the few seconds it took to tug his sweater and undershirt off and then Zane’s hands were on that smooth skin he thought he’d never touch again. With one arm clenching around Mark’s waist, he slid the other over the ridges of the man’s stomach and upward to grab onto his jaw and open him wider. Mark moaned and Zane’s cock grew hot and hard.

The pair stumbled backward into the suite until Zane was collapsing back against the couch cushions. Mark was leaning over him, unwilling to break the connection of their mouths as Zane felt his way down Mark’s body with only his fingertips until he was working that belt free and popping the buttons apart on Mark’s fly. With a firm tug, Zane had Mark’s pants down and he broke their kiss to slide forward in his seat and press his face to the skin of Mark’s stomach.

Fingers delved into Zane’s still heavily styled hair and held him close as he breathed in the rich scent of Mark’s skin. Zane had a firm grip on Mark’s hips and he tentatively released him to run his hands down the man’s legs and back up, teasing at the waist band of his briefs. He let one hand glide down over Mark’s swollen erection and then, pushing up and under the hem of the leg opening, he palmed that thick shaft as Mark arched hard against him.

Zane stroked up and down as his mouth and tongue wandered Mark’s stomach, weaving a hot, wet line to the tip of his cock still concealed by fabric. He closed his mouth over it and tightened his grip at the same time.

“Fuhhhh—” Mark’s shout was cut off as Zane moved to jerk down the briefs and take him in fully. Leaving one hand to grip the base and milk the full response out of Mark, Zane sucked, kissed, and teased with his tongue to the point that Mark’s body was a taught cord in front of him, his hands on Zane’s head acting as a guide as they rocked toward one another in perfect rhythm.

Mark was panting when he abruptly pushed Zane away and kicked out of his shoes, jeans and underwear. All at once, he was naked in front of Zane, the light tan that he had in Bora Bora already fading into that luscious fair skin that reminded Zane of smooth marble. The dark hair on Mark’s chest and his proud, glistening cock had Zane sweating.

Oh hell… Oh fuck.

Sensing the challenge in Mark’s stance, Zane reached behind his head and pulled off his own shirt with slow intent. He watched as Mark sank to his knees in front of him and removed his shoes and socks for him. When Mark’s hands clasped around the band of his sweats, Zane dutifully lifted his hips and let his tongue dart out of his mouth to wet his lips. Mark moaned at the sight and never took his eyes from Zane’s face even as the pants slid further down his legs to reveal his readied body.

When they were both free of clothing, Mark finally looked away and let his eyes travel. Zane felt that gaze the same way he would a touch. He didn’t have much hair and he was darker than Mark, but they complimented one another and it was clear that skin-to-skin they could move together perfectly. In sync.

Zane wouldn’t have thought he’d have the energy left in him to do it, but with the need to feel Mark against him, he dragged the man up onto the couch until he was straddling Zane’s hips. His ass was tight against Zane, trapping his cock between them, and Mark drove his hips forward over the sensitive shaft, sending a lightning bolt through Zane and making him buck upwards.

Mark lowered his head and captured Zane’s lips. He plunged his tongue deeply as his body kept thrusting, that delicious sensation making Zane hard to bursting. As Mark’s tongue worked its magic, Zane reached between them and rounded his palm over Mark’s head, using his thumb to swipe across the tip. He brought his thumb to their joined mouths and pushed it between Mark’s lips. Both their tongues swirled over the salted flavor and Zane hissed when Mark bit down, imprisoning him in the moist heat of his mouth as he sucked.

Mark was with another man. He lied.

With his free hand Zane grabbed a handful of Mark’s hair and jerked his head back. Mark gasped in pain-edged surprise and released Zane’s thumb. He waited for what Zane would do to him, pulse throbbing in his exposed throat and his body shining in the low light. Zane traced that fluttering line beneath Mark’s skin and ran a finger into the hollow at the base of his throat before he grasped a hold of his neck just tightly enough to get Mark’s attention.

Zane brought his lips to the other man’s ear and bit the lobe meaningfully. “You. Were. Mine,” he growled deeply. Mark tried to move but Zane’s hold was firm. “You were fucking
mine
and you let him
touch
you.”

The tears were back and as they seeped between Zane’s lids to flow unchecked down his cheeks, he released Mark to look at him, to show him what he’d done. Mark’s eyes were also wet and he silently kissed Zane’s tears away.

“I was
never
…
ever
…his,” he finally murmured, his hips beginning to thrust once more as Zane clutched Mark’s ass, guiding him. Any other words died away as he found his rhythm on top of Zane, his own cock jutting between them. Their movements together created a mouthwatering friction that had their blood pumping and their bodies heating and dripping in sweat.

Zane licked at Mark’s chest and pushed back to give himself room to touch that weeping shaft, stiff as a steel pipe. He stroked and squeezed, watching as Mark grew closer and closer to coming. Zane sensed his own orgasm rising from the seat of his balls, the hot tingle rising past the base of his cock. Mark’s body rocked against him wildly and when his dick jerked in Zane’s grip, he forced Mark to look into his eyes.

“Fucking say it.”
Zane growled. Mark made a noise akin to a whimper as his body went taut. “Whose are you?
Fucking say it now!
”

Mark choked on his answer as he erupted, the warm fluid washing over Zane’s stomach and chest as he held onto the fragile threads of his own control.
“Yours, Zane,”
he hissed.
“Only yours.”

The admission acted as a live wire in Zane’s body and he jacked up off the couch, carrying Mark as the electric sensation ripped through him. He came in waves that stole the last of his strength and had him collapsing back on the couch cushions with a muffled groan.

The roughness—the fight of the whole experience—faded little by little until he was sagging against Mark and waiting. His breath hitched. Had he been too forceful? Was Mark leaving him? Was this some kind of horrible pity fuck?

The pain and stress of the previous days broke over him and he shuddered, pulling Mark against him tightly. He had to hold him while he still could.

“Mark…” he breathed. “I…”

“Shhh… I’m here.” Zane heard the answer whispered in his ear and he lost it. Mark wrapped him in his arms and held him as everything but the hurt faded away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Mark’s stomach was tied in knots. No eye contact and barely a word had been spoken between the two of them. This was a very bad sign, he knew. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that what they’d just done together was a cure all. But passionate? Yes. Rough? Yes. Better than Mark had dreamed?
Hell yes
. Except they weren’t curled up happily together in post-sex bliss. Rather, there was what seemed like a growing chasm between them full of unspoken accusations.

Mark knew Zane was stronger than him; he even knew the man was filled to brimming with energy and heat, but he didn’t expect all of that to be spilled over him so intensely. He wanted to be thrilled that they were finally together again, that he’d been able to touch Zane the way he wanted to for so long, but the pain he saw in Zane and the rough anger in his actions made that impossible. Mark still had to explain what happened with Christian and a sexual intermission didn’t erase that. Until Mark told him everything, Zane was going to keep up the silent treatment.

How was he supposed to dive into the explanation though?
“Listen, about that kiss caught by an army of photographers…”

It was clear that Zane was angry with himself for letting his emotions get the best of him. Mark had held onto him, never wanting to let go, cradling his dark head to his chest and trailing little kisses over his temples and his hair. Mark whispered how much he cared and how sorry he was, but the words of forgiveness he prayed for never came. In the end, Zane gently pushed Mark off of his lap and used his own t-shirt to clean both of them off. He wouldn’t meet Mark’s eyes. When he finished, he wadded up the shirt and tossed it in a laundry bag by the door and mumbled that he was going to take a shower. 

Now Mark was waiting around in his jeans, feeling sticky, sweaty, and unhappy. Zane had been in the shower for fifteen minutes now and he showed no sign of coming back out.

You should go in there, Mark told himself. Force him to look at you. Force him to talk or at least hear you out.

He stood with a burst of speed, deciding he was right and now was his chance, and then the water shut off. He instantly flopped back down on the couch like a coward, landing right on top of the “crime scene evidence.” Mark jerked away from the couch and into the arm chair. There was still only the single light straining to brighten the room, so Mark looked like he was lurking in the shadows à la Hannibal Lecter, albeit a shirtless, gay Hannibal.
Hello, Clarice.

The door
finally
creaked open and Zane came out in just a towel—
oh fantastic
—stopping short when he didn’t see Mark. He let out a juicy curse and stalked toward the door of the suite, hellfire burning in his eyes, which sort of gave Mark hope.

“I’m still here,” he called out, standing as Zane whirled back his way. The anger in his expression dimmed, but the rest of Zane’s body didn’t get the memo. He was wound tight with stress and acted as though he wanted to say something more, but instead just jerked his thumb toward the bathroom and mumbled, “It’s open.”

“Can we please talk?” Mark pleaded, lifting his hands toward Zane in entreaty.

Zane’s eyes danced away from him and Mark didn’t like it. Stalking across the room, he grabbed Zane’s chin and forced his head around. “Hey!” Those blue eyes glittered in the half-light and that same resentment pulsed to the forefront. “Let me explain, please?”

There was a too-long moment that Mark thought Zane might not let him say a word. He saw the possibility lurking, but then Zane let out a long breath like he was giving up.

“I don’t generally act like such a jealous, possessive, overbearing guy, Mark. I never have, actually. I’ve left myself open to you from the beginning and asked you for one thing:
honesty
. You knew how I felt about Christian, but I didn’t stop you from seeing him. I hoped like hell you would call me when you got home because I’m just insecure enough to need that.”