Rough Attraction (17 page)

His phone rang, his heart skipped a beat wishing to see Darko’s name but it was Diesel Gentry’s name that came up on ID. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

A few hours later Maxum sat on the lounger inside Trenton Leos’ VIP booth at Club Pain. Diesel’s phone call had been an invitation to join them for dinner and drinks at the club to officially celebrate a successful first B/D season at the
Salientis du Deliciarum
Island Resort. A well-deserved applause that had been postponed in the shadow of the attempted kidnapping of Trenton’s newly claimed slave, Katianna Dumas. After that dark event, Trenton had gone recluse for a while, only now resurfacing and his brothers were intent to make sure he stayed out and active, resuming his position as the Dominus within the BDSM Lifestyle community.

Club Pain had never been a favored haunt for Maxum, but he needed to be anywhere but home right now, if for very different reasons then his friend Trenton. The food and of course the company with the five brothers, Trenton, Diesel, Dane who made frequent ins and outs to check on things with the club, plus Harper and Marcus had been good. It was the distraction he had needed. Enough mutual commons shared among them all. There was no rap to compare, compete not even an indifference that made one feel less than the man sitting next to him. They talked about food and pleasures just as easily as they talked about business, money, and ideas for future successes. Plans led to a mutual giving of strategies and plausible investments. Eventually it all came to celebrating the Island resort’s two years since the grand reopening and its successful first annual fetish season.

Maxum was glad to hear the Event Manager, Paris Dalqeaute had worked out well. Including the news that his request to remain as a full time resident was approved. It was a no brainer really, when the inventive businessman presented them with numerous designs for smaller weekend themes throughout the year to keep both clients of the BDSM lifestyle as well as non-players coming back to the resort again and again.

It also didn’t go unnoticed that Diesel seemed to grow uneasy the more they talked about Paris. Something that stuck out, because Diesel was never uneasy about anything—
ever
. Always as ridged as a stone block. Maxum felt the connection to it—
the emotional rumbling from an ungiving fortress of ideals
. Even as his eyes drifted, back to the sea of bodies dancing and grinding on the dance floor. The mocking chuckle he kept to himself as another man stirred the exact same uneasiness in himself.

He felt the buzz in his pocket going off for what seemed like the hundredth time. He reached in not bothering to pull it out to look. The last eighty had all been Simeon. This one would be too and he finally silenced the whole thing.

Someone asked a question in the murmuring conversation. “I may have to set a week aside and go down for a visit again. See my house now that it’s finished.” Maxum gave his response from the autopilot records in his head, to execute his thoughts away from Simeon, but not once did his eyes shift away from the dance floor outside the room. He took another sip from his glass wincing at the burning tequila they were all drinking tonight. He wasn’t big on tequila, preferring a bolder darker flavor of scotch or cognac, but right now, it was the affect of the drink he was intentionally torturing himself with. Though, none more than what he was seeing. The man that haunted his every carnal desire dancing out on the floor with another man wrapped in his arms.

“You should. We’re planning to go down at the start of our next B/D season in the summer right after the auction.” Maxum heard the response come from Trenton and made some comment back, but he wasn’t sure really what he said. His mind becoming infused outside the VIP booth.

He’d been watching Darko dancing with another man off and on for the last hour now. Not once did he notice the two men kiss, lots of laughing— and rubbing— and prodding. A few spoken exchanges sent directly to the ear to out volume the music, but nothing to indicate any deep connection. It didn’t make the sight any easier on Maxum. Darko might as well be out there fucking the other man in a deliberate act to rile him up for all the emotion it was stirring up in him right now.

The rage he felt, so hot, it burned his eyes and he finally forced himself to look away just so he could close them. Instantly, the back of his lids played out like tiny movie screens. A stampede of horses strumming through his heart that sounded like thunder in his ears as he watched himself drive into Darko's perfectly riveted body. Only Darko
kissed
him. And did so like no man ever had, the kiss alone was as satisfying as the full act of fucking. During their not so private Thanksgiving run away, they’d spent over an hour just kissing and rubbing against each other. Proving to him it was more than just sex.

The drink was finally loading up in his bladder and he excused himself. Maxum kept his head tucked as he made his way around the dance floor for to the bathrooms located on the other side. While he had been very aware of Darko, at the moment, he didn’t want Darko aware of him. He just wasn’t in his right mind and the more he watched Darko with the other man, he wasn’t so sure he had ever been.

Breaking up with Simeon was a decision long in the making. Darko was just the light he needed to see what he wanted in a relationship was not what he had with Simeon. However, he was also getting a wakeup call that what he got from Darko wasn’t what he had hoped to fill his life with either. He was finding himself delivered at the very place he was dreading to be in— alone— and a failure.

Standing at the urinal, Maxum closed his eyes as he stood, letting the night of toxic tequila drain from his system, wishing his emotions would drain with it. It came as no surprise when he felt the warm strong arms wrap around him from behind and take hold of his cock before he had even finished pissing.

Maxum didn’t even fight it, he gave over his dick and his head fell back on the shoulders behind him, drowning in the hot wet mouth that kissed his neck.

“Even on a free night out on the town you’re still in a suit.” A familiar voice growled in his ear.

“A habit that seemed to keep the peace with my boyfriend.” Maxum mumbled, keeping his eyes closed, not removing himself from Darko’s embrace just yet. His business in the bathroom done, but still in the hands of the other, he made no move to pull away.

“As in, the boyfriend you supposedly broke up with?” Darko leaned into him, pushing him towards the wall. Maxum’s hands shot up to hold them steady, though nothing else inside him was. There was no chance of getting there, while Darko’s firm hand began stroking his length. “So what does that make me then?” There was a low tenor growl in his ear.

Damn
, Maxum didn’t want to answer questions, didn’t want to have to explain himself. He had done enough of that with Simeon. That part of his life was over. He’d dressed for him for the last time, excused his actions for the last time. While his affair with Darko was not a thing to be proud of, at least with
this
man he’d had some very good prizes at the end of the playing field. “An unstable environment.” He muttered aloud.
Affairs never translate into long term relationships.

“The only thing unstable is that you keep running away and putting cheap gas in your tank. When you know damn well what I have for you is far more satisfying.” Darko’s hand was steadily twisting as he slid it up and down, creating exhilarating friction that had Maxum panting too quickly.

Maxum couldn’t argue that. The light buzz he had robbed him of any warnings that anyone could walk in on them any moment, all he knew right now was his cock was in the right hands and he wanted more. He sucked in a deep breath, wanting every bit of what he felt to be true and safe. He wanted to be lost in this. To come home to this always. He let his head rocked back anticipating the feel of a warm kiss taking over his mouth.

There was a shuffle and a few masculine chuckles at the door.
“Niiice.”
One of them crooned, drawing out the vowel to sound out a tantalizing approval with the word.

Maxum’s balance stuttered and his eyes flashed open. He snapped around to see the three men coming into the bathroom, their eyes trailing down his front side and Maxum became acutely aware that he was stroking his own dick. The man who had been holding him wasn’t even there. Just haunting him. His emotions sinking even further as he reminded himself what he had always known.
Affairs never translate into long term relationships
.

He tucked himself away and rushed out, not even stopping to make his excuses to Trenton and the others. He would talk to them later. He just needed to get out of there.

Darko could have sworn the blur of dark grey suit had been Maxum. But what the hell was he doing here— in Club Pain no less?

Abandoning his friend and teammate, Mitch, Darko squeezed through the crowd of dancing bodies, but by the time he made it to the end of the bar, glancing down the corridor to the club’s exit, whomever he saw was long gone. He turned into the bar dropping his elbows on the countertop, his eyes still going back to the door, unable to shake the certainty that it had been him. He pulled out his phone and called Maxum. Only to get an automated message he wasn’t available at the time.

“Did you see something you liked?” Mitch was suddenly beside Darko and called up for a water from Zane who was working behind the bar.

“More than like.” Darko answered and waved to Zane for one for himself as well. Mitch looked around Darko down the empty corridor, “Looks like he got away.”

Darko turned to face him as he still leaned over the bar. He drank down the glass of water until the ice hit his lips. His thoughts going to Maxum and the several days of silence, since their weekend together. Maxum had said he needed time to close one part of his life before opening a new one, but dammit, Darko hated not knowing if Maxum was okay. Or just sitting in an empty house bouncing off the walls because it was now vacant one person.

“So after this, you’ll come back out and dance with me some more?” The offer from Mitch drew him from his mind and back to the present.

“You know any more bumping and grinding with me and Quentin is likely to catch you, and crack his whip on your hide.” Darko joked.

Mitch made a teasing wriggle. A rather comical move given his musculature and size. Mitch added a playful
waggle
to his brows, “I know. That’s what I am hoping for. Sir hasn’t spanked me in weeks. Figured it was time for me to
not
be such a good boy. What do you Serbian men call it?”

“A brat.” Darko shook his head and let out a light chuckle, “As long as Quentin doesn’t try to include me on the punishment, fine. I’ll help you be bad
boiderište
.”

Mitch slapped on a super big grin, “No worries mate. My Sir likes otters; you don’t have enough hair for his pecker’s high standards.” He grinned more as if it were actually possible, then scrubbed his hands over his chest and the thick black carpet of hair proudly. “Besides, I row faster when my ass hurts.”

“It’s gonna hurt even more when the chlorine in the pool at the Tank hits it. Practice moves indoors this weekend.” The warning only fueled Mitch’s naughty smile more, making Darko laugh, drawing his thoughts away from the phantom that had fled out the door.

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CHAPTER NINE

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Maxum’s business of financial investments and growth management was located in the Woolworth Tower on the corner of Broadway and Beekman. His own office looking down over the glass atrium roof of the historical Beekman Palace and Steve Flanders square. Right across from him, the Beekman Tower Gehry where his apartment was. Albeit his flat was so high up in the tower it was hard to actually enjoy the greenery below, but knowing it was there appeased him enough to balance out his far more, fast paced life.

He was in no hurry to wrap up his week’s business. His Friday was going to be like any other day of the week. Even with the first drifts of snow falling past his window to the ground below. He didn’t even wonder if there would be enough that stuck that it would crunch under his feet when he walked across the park to go home. To be there alone, as always. Only this time there wasn’t someone out there calling him. Not since he’d tossed his phone across the bedroom hearing it shatter. He had pulled his phone out to set the alarm and saw Darko’s name in the missed calls. The pain struck so hard he didn’t know what to do with it all. Thus went his phone. At least now, he didn’t have to look at the list of calls from Simeon either.

He turned his back to the snowy scenery and back to his computer. Checking up on some investments that might work in Dane Master’s favor for the restaurant ideas they had discussed last night. Nothing that man did strayed away from his love for sex and the belief that Americans should be open about it. It was a risky motivation for businesses. Yet not one of Dane’s ventures had ever failed either. Lending truth to the old saying—
sex sells
— but so does having just the right investors involved. That’s where Maxum came in and he knew just the guy who might actually be interested in a restaurant whose servers resembled Greek and Roman servants of the ancient bathhouse brothels. The new venture revived Maxum’s mood and he quickly grabbed up the phone and gave his friend a call.

A light knock and his assistant stepped in, dropping some papers on his desk, a red folder that would contains the week’s analysis reports from the US stock exchange. She leaned over his desk whispering, which meant the call was a priority client. “Call on line three.”

Maxum scribbled on a notepad that read both listening to the man on the phone still talking and to the interruption from his assistant.
Toussaint Larou is green.
“Who is it?”

“Mr. Almere Glaisphmen.” She whispered then left him to his client’s call.