Waiting for a Prince (10 page)

smile. Mark deposited the mugs in the kitchen sink and went in search of a clean towel.

And while he’s showering, I need to steer clear of the bathroom
, Mark thought

decisively. No, definitely
not
Superman.

* * * * * * * * * *

the sunshine, two cups of coffee in front of them. Mark loved coming down here to the south

coast of the island. The café was nestled at one end of Steephill Cove. The quiet little bay

comprised a collection of cafés and holiday homes. Below the railing of the café, waves crashed onto the green, algae-covered rocks. The bay was a horseshoe of sand, surrounded by a

perimeter of similar rocks over which children and adults alike clambered in search of rock

pools. A structure which resembled a lighthouse stood at the other end of the bay. The holiday home wouldn’t have looked out of place in New England, its white boards and white picket

fence glaringly bright in the morning light.

“I love it down here,” Mark breathed. “I think it’s the sound of the sea that draws me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the music made by the waves as they frothed onto

the rocks below. Footsteps approaching their table had him opening his eyes. It was Richard,

the chief server.

“Two bacon sandwiches,” Richard said with a flourish, placing them on the table.

“Anything else you want, Mark?”

Mark shook his head. “No, that’s all for the moment, thanks, Richard.”

“Then I’ll be back when you’ve finished, with your second cup of coffee.” Richard

grinned at Sam and winked. “Never known Mark to ever stick at one cup of coffee.”

Mark chortled. “You know me far too well.” He indicated Sam with a nod of his head.

57

Mark chortled. “You know me far too well.” He indicated Sam with a nod of his head.

“This is my friend Sam. It’s his first visit down here.” Richard dipped his chin in

acknowledgment. “How’s business?”

“Can’t grumble,” Richard said with a smile. “Andy’s pleased, so it can’t be bad.” Andy

was the owner. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to your breakfast.” He flashed them another quick

smile and walked away, straightening chairs and tables as he headed toward the rear of the café.

“How long have you been coming here?” asked Sam. He took a bite out of the sandwich

and moaned. “Oh, that’s good.”

Mark stifled a groan of his own as the sounds Sam made went straight to his dick. It was

no use—as attracted as he was to Sam, it was now clear that nothing was going to happen

between them, so he
really
needed to organize a trip across the Solent one day soon. “About three years,” Mark replied. “Since Andy took over the place.” He bit into his sandwich,

savoring the crisp bacon. The taste was divine. In no time at all the sandwiches were

demolished.

Mark drained his cup of coffee, knowing that Richard wouldn’t be long in bringing

another one. He glanced across at Sam who was looking out to sea, a contented expression on

his face. Mark could understand that. He knew he wore the same look every time he came here.

“Was that what you wanted to tell me last night?” he prodded gently. “That you were

gay?”

Sam nodded. “I felt awful, lying to you for the past three weeks. You were so open with

me, and yet there I was, hiding my sexuality. It felt so wrong.” The look of contentment was

replaced by one of misery.

“There’s
nothing
wrong with that,” Mark stressed. “It’s no shame to be in the closet,

especially if coming out would spoil your relationship with your dad.” Heaven knew, Mark

wished
he’d
stayed in there longer. Coming out had made his already strained relationship with his mother ten times worse.

Sam tensed. “There’s more to it than that, but it’s not something I can really talk about,

okay?” Mark gave him a nod of reassurance and he watched Sam relax into his seat.

“I know you said you and Becky had been together about a month. Was there anyone

before that?” Mark itched to know more about what Sam was doing with Becky in the first

place, but he didn’t push. He figured Sam would tell him when he was ready.

58

“No, no one.” Sam had his eyes fixed on a lone figure out on the water in a canoe. “I

went out to a couple of gay clubs when I was in London a few times, but to be honest, I was

scared to death. It wasn’t like I imagined.” He shivered.

“Tell me.”

Sam scrubbed his fingers through his short hair. “I don’t know, it was just so…. The

music was loud and throbbing, the dancers… My God, the dancers were naked!”

Mark chuckled. “Oh, you went to a gay strip club. I’ve been to one a couple of times.”

He didn’t mention the fact that he’d hooked up with one of the strippers after the show for a

lightning-quick fuck in the alley behind the club. Something in Sam’s words registered. “Sam…

have you…what I mean is…” He cleared his throat.
Oh, for God’s sake, just
ask
him
! “Sam, what have you done with a guy?”

A slow tide of red spread upward from Sam’s chest, crept up his neck and across his

cheeks. The blush was adorable. “I’ve blown a couple of guys, and been sucked off a few

times.” He fell silent.

“Have you and Becky had sex?” More silence. Mark waited, and when it became clear

that no more would be forthcoming, he sucked in a deep breath. “Sam… are you a virgin?”

Those cheeks were suddenly bright red—and Mark had his answer.

“Sam. You’re twenty-three.” Mark couldn’t imagine getting to that age and not having

fucked
someone
, at least once.

“Look, my parents brought me up to see sex as something that happens when you meet

someone and fall in love.” Mark couldn’t miss the defensive note in Sam’s voice.

“Wait a minute—you had oral sex.” Mark’s eyebrows shot up. “So oral sex doesn’t

count as sex?”

Sam’s cheeks were hot. “Sorry. I guess I think of sex as being when someone

actually….
you
know…” The words trailed off.

Mark’s cheeks burned and his chin dropped to his chest. His face tingled. “Actually, I

think it’s great that you waited. Makes me wish I had.”

Sam jumped in. “Oh, but being experienced is good, too.” His cheeks glowed. “I know I

want
my
first time to be with someone who knows what he’s doing.”

All of a sudden Mark heard his mother’s voice in his head, the memory as clear as if it

59

All of a sudden Mark heard his mother’s voice in his head, the memory as clear as if it

had been yesterday, not five years ago. He snorted. Sam gave him a puzzled glance. Mark

explained. “My mother’s idea of the birds and the bees talk? ‘Just make sure when you have sex

for the first time that it’s with someone who has a clue what they’re doing. There’s nothing

more pathetic in this life than the idea of two virgins fumbling around together.’”

Sam’s horrified expression said it all. “I… I don’t think that’s pathetic at all.”

Mark looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. A feeling of heaviness settled over

him. Things might have been different if his dad had been alive. He was certain his dad

wouldn’t have reacted to Mark’s coming out in the same way as his mother did. A familiar slow

tide of rage threatened to surge through him, but he fought against it, determined not to let

anything spoil the day and this time he shared with Sam.

He fixed his gaze instead on the figure who was tugging a canoe up onto the beach. He

recognized the young man clad in a bright blue wetsuit immediately. Taylor Monroe operated a

small business down in the bay, hiring out surf boards, kayaks and wetsuits. Mark had just

joined Ryde High School when Taylor had been about to finish his final year there. He’d been a

bit of a loner at school, a typical surfer who seemed to spend every spare minute out in the

water. Mark envied him his life. Taylor had a house right on the bay, a large white painted

edifice with a porch where he would sit throughout the summer. Mark had often imagined

living there. To be able to open a window and hear the sea. Heaven.

“Just so you don’t feel
too
sorry for me.” Sam broke through Mark’s reverie. Mark gave

him his full attention. “I do have a few toys.” Sam grinned.

“Oh really?” Mark arched his eyebrows and Sam’s grin widened.

“Yeah, but I have to be careful. I don’t want to imagine how Becky would react if she

found my Fleshjack.” He paused before continuing. “Especially seeing as it’s a replica of Brent Corrigan’s arse.” There was a moment of silence before both men fell about laughing.

Mark chortled. “Yeah, I can see how trying to explain
why
you have a replica of a gay

porn star’s arsehole might be rather difficult.” Sam snickered. Mark looked at the handsome

face of the man beside him and was seized by the sudden desire to reveal why Sam’s kiss had

blown him away.

“Seeing as it’s confession time,” he began, after drawing in a deep breath, “I want to say

thank you.” Sam cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. “When you kissed me earlier….” He

60

thank you.” Sam cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. “When you kissed me earlier….” He

dried up, ashamed to share the importance of Sam’s impulsive action. Sam reached across the

table and brushed his fingertips lightly down Mark’s forearm. The simple gesture brought him a

measure of calm. “You said that experience was good. Well, my experience of sex so far has

been confined to furtive hook-ups in club bathrooms. I meant what I said this morning—there

has never been another soul in my bed ’til you slid into it in the early hours.” His chest

tightened. “I’ve had sex in bathrooms, alleyways, dark corners of the dance floor”—Sam’s eyes

grew positively huge—“but never in a bed. And until this morning…” He pressed his fingertips

against Sam’s and then looked into his eyes. “No one had ever kissed me.”

Sam caught his breath. “I was your first kiss?” Mark nodded, unable to tear his eyes

away from the joyful expression on Sam’s face. “Then we shared a first together. You were my

first gay kiss, too.”

Warmth flooded through Mark. The silence that fell following Sam’s words was a

comfortable one, broken only by the appearance of Richard with two fresh cups of coffee. Mark

gave him a grateful smile as Richard slipped quietly away.

Sam sipped his coffee and gazed out over the bay. Little by little the sandy beach was

filling with families: children running around, laughing and shrieking; dogs running into the

waves, only to run back to their masters, shaking themselves violently and spraying water

everywhere. It was an idyllic scene.

“Are we still okay?” Sam’s quietly spoken question broke through his contemplation.

Mark gazed at him quizzically. “What I mean is, are we still friends?” Sam twisted his watch

around his wrist.

Mark stared at him in surprise. “Of course,” he said with some force. “Why would you

ask that?”

Sam puffed out a breath. “Because of last night and this morning. What with me treating

you badly, and then sneaking into your bed, and then—”

“We’re
fine
,” Mark stressed. “Honestly.” For which he was extremely grateful. Sam’s

friendship was important to him. “And Sam?” His eyes twinkled. “You’re a good kisser.”

Sam blushed. “You, too.” He looked out to sea once more. “I love it here. This was a

great idea.”

Sam may be older than I am
, Mark thought,
but he needs a keeper. Someone to take care
61

Sam may be older than I am
, Mark thought,
but he needs a keeper. Someone to take care
of him
.

62

They walked along the path which led past the lighthouse and around the corner to

where a sea wall had been constructed out of heavy boulders, which were held together in metal

netting. The waves pounded the rocks on the shore as Mark and Sam headed up the steeply

rising coastal path. As they walked, they talked.

Sam had lots of ideas for computer games. He shared these enthusiastically and Mark

had to admit they were impressive.

“Will your dad let you design all those?” he asked.

Sam shrugged. “Maybe he’ll let me do one and see how it goes. If it works out, he might

let me do more of them.”

“I love your ideas. It’s great to hear original stuff that isn’t basically a rehash of some

old, tired game done far too many times already.” Mark didn’t play often on his PS3, but he

liked games that made him think. He wasn’t into mindless violence or loads of CGI. “And if

your dad won’t give you a shot, then maybe think about taking your ideas elsewhere. Trust me,

someone
will snap them up.”

The path curved up to its highest point where a wooden bench had been placed, right at

the cliff edge. Mark sat down, patting the sun-warmed wood beside him. Sam joined him. For

several minutes they stared out to sea, the only sounds the waves and the harsh cries of the

seagulls as they rose up on the air currents along the cliff.

So many thoughts tumbled through Mark’s head, but one prodded him persistently. He

couldn’t get over the feeling that Sam was heading for trouble. Before he could say anything,

Sam spoke.

“I really am sorry for reacting the way I did in the pub. It was just the last thing I’d

expected to hear, that I was basically your walking fantasy. And it was easier to hide behind an angry facade than come out and tell you the truth.” His expression was glum. “I should have