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DOUBLE FEATURE …Adrien met Felix’s gaze and held it. When Felix didn’t step around him, he moved forward, closing what little distance there was left between them. Felix took a sharp breath. His chest nearly brushed Adrien’s. Adrien waited to see what he’d do, if he’d walk away or say something, but Felix didn’t move at all, and he didn’t speak a word. Slowly, Adrien leaned in, wondering if Felix would let him kiss him after all. But the moment he moved, Felix braced his hands on Adrien’s shoulders and held him back. “Don’t,” he said, his voice ragged. Adrien searched his gaze. “Why not?” “You know why.” Felix held Adrien’s eye, his jaw set, every line in his body speaking of his determination. Adrien sighed to see it, and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “He doesn’t deserve you, you know.” Felix’s expression turned frigid. He moved back. “I suppose you’re going to try to tell me that I’d be better off with you.” “No.” Adrien shook his head. “I’m my own special brand of fucked up, and I’m no better cut out for a relationship than he is. I just meant…” He trailed off, sighed again. What he’d meant was that Felix was loving and loyal and he’d proved Adrien right. He might have been interested in and affected by Adrien’s advances, but he hadn’t hesitated at all in turning him down flat. And how did Cristian reward him? With skepticism and doubt that Felix hadn’t done anything to deserve. But Adrien couldn’t say any of that. Felix might have deserved better than Cristian gave him, but Adrien wasn’t about to sabotage their relationship by admitting the truth, that Cristian had practically thrown him at Felix and wished him good luck. Felix didn’t deserve to be hurt, either, and Adrien didn’t want to be the one to do it…

ALSO BY AISLINN KERRY A King’s Ransom In The Shadow Of The Sun Smoke

DOUBLE FEATURE BY AISLINN KERRY

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

DOUBLE F EATURE AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2011 by Aislinn Kerry ISBN 978-1-61124-151-8 Cover Art © 2011 Trace Edward Zaber

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

For Terra, “because all my book are belong to her”

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CHAPTER 1 The club’s cool air washed over Adrien, a welcome relief from the Los Angeles heat beyond its doors. The music thumped loud enough to shake the walls and drown out the roar of paparazzi and journalists outside, all clamoring for a photograph or a sound bite. He shut his eyes and let it catch his pulse up in the beat. People writhed on the dance floor, illuminated by brief flashes of whirling colored lights, and the alcohol flowed in abundance, but this wasn’t the scene he’d come for, not tonight. He needed a greater release than music or dance alone could provide. “Adrien!” He turned and caught the man who threw himself at him. The other man’s arms stole around his neck. He pressed his body in against Adrien’s, swaying in time to the music. “It’s been too 1

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long,” he murmured against Adrien’s ear, breath hot on his skin. Adrien caught him by the shoulders and set him back enough to see his face. “Jonathan.” The tension eased out of his shoulders. “It has, yes.” He skimmed a thumb up the column of Jon’s throat, looking him over. How long had it been? He couldn’t recall. Jon’s hair was shorter now—or longer, perhaps. And he had a new piercing, a spiral expander through the lobe of his ear. Adrien brushed it with his fingertips, and Jon smiled. “You like it?” “Did it hurt?” Jon’s grin turned sharp. “Not enough.” Adrien dragged his gaze from the piercing and back to Jon’s face. “Since when do you go to piercers to get your kicks?” “Since you stopped coming around.” Adrien raised a brow. He stepped back and drew his gaze over Jon’s body, head to toe. He wore black and silver today, and his clothes hugged his body tight enough that it hardly took any imagination to picture him out of them. “Any other new piercings I should know about?” Jon cocked his head to the side and shot him a grin full of mischief. “You’ll have to find out for yourself, won’t you?” Adrien curved his hand around the back of Jon’s neck, his thumb braced against the side of his throat. Jon’s pulse quickened beneath his touch. “Want me to?” Jon held his gaze, standing straight and still as Adrien’s finger lay over his jugular. “You know I do.” His voice was full of promises. Adrien led him to an innocuous door behind the bar and waved his identcard over the scanner. The locks released with a whisper. He pulled the door open and led Jon into the true heart of the club. 2

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The walls here dulled the music to a pounding like a heartbeat. The snap of whips or the heavy thud of paddles rose over it, quickening Adrien’s pulse. This was what he’d come for, this release that Jon was always happy to provide. Behind these walls there were no cameras, no paparazzi. No one stared or whispered behind their hands when he walked past. The club was discreet, meticulously so. No one beyond its walls would ever learn what he did here, or why. He led Jon through the maze of equipment—suspension rigs, tables, anything they might have asked for—to a padded leather bench in the back. Jon lowered himself onto it, sitting, and tipped his face up to Adrien. “You’re in a mood tonight, aren’t you?” “Yes.” He trailed his fingers over the racks of instruments against the back wall. A whip was too distant for his mood tonight, and he would have had to moderate his strength with a paddle. He settled at last on a tawse with two broad strips of thick, pliant leather. Jon raised his brows when Adrien came around him with it, the contoured handle gripped tight in his fist. “Want to talk about it?” “I didn’t come here to talk.” With one hand between Jon’s shoulder blades, Adrien pushed him down onto the bench, stretched its length upon his stomach. He crouched to clip Jon’s wrists into the cuffs bolted into its legs. “What’s your safe word?” Jon rolled his eyes. “Are you going senile on me? It hasn’t been that long. Don’t tell me you forgot.” “I haven’t.” Adrien shut the cuff around his other wrist and ran a finger under the band to make sure there was enough ease it wouldn’t pinch or hurt. “Tell me what it is.” “You already know it.” Adrien held the key up between two fingers, where Jon could 3

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see it. “Tell me, or this ends now.” “Christ. You are in a mood.” Jon shot him a dirty look through the fringe of his hair. “Yellow to slow down, red to stop.” Adrien stepped back, relief and irritation warring within him. He didn’t want to have to release Jon and call and end to their session before it had even begun. He’d have been hard pressed to make himself, even if Jon hadn’t relented. He needed this release, damn it. “Adrien?” Hold on, he wanted to say. Wait, just one minute. I need to get a grip. “Quiet,” he snapped. Jon shut up. Adrien adjusted his grip on the tawse. The handle fit securely in his palm. He swung it by his side, feeling the resistance, listening to the sound of it cutting through the air. It calmed him, centered him enough that he could go on. He swung the tawse at Jon’s shoulders, lighter than he wanted. But there was time enough for that, and if he rushed, this would be over too soon. The jolt in Adrien’s arm when the tawse landed was still satisfying, the low grunt that Jon made still slid down Adrien’s spine and unknotted the tension that had bound his chest. Pink spread across the other man’s skin, a broad line where the tawse had landed. Adrien made another to cross it, and a third. Each blow jolted another knot lose and made it easier to breathe. Gradually, Adrien put more and more power behind his strokes. There was a fierce joy in watching Jon’s back flush red and hot, in hearing his cries give way to moans. Adrien beat him until he noticed that Jon’s knees were trembling. Adrien’s arms burned with exertion, but he could have 4

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kept going. He wanted to keep going. It wasn’t enough, not yet. Not for him. He set the tawse aside carefully. Jon lay slumped across the bench, panting. Adrien moved forward with the key and unlocked his wrists. He helped Jon upright, then sat beside him, letting the other man lean in against his strength. Red strips cut across his back, so many that Adrien could hardly distinguish one from the next. He warmed lotion between his palms and rubbed it over the marks. Jon leaned his elbows on his knees and shuddered beneath Adrien’s hands. After long moments, Jon’s shudders eased. He tunneled his fingers through his hair and straightened. “Rough day?” Adrien turned his face away. “I told you. I didn’t come here to talk.” Damn it, he’d come here to forget. Having a whip or a paddle in his hands helped, but Jon had had as much as he could take. “You came here to beat me.” Jon waved a hand over his shoulder, at his back. “You’ve done that. Talking’s about all I’ve got left to offer.” Adrien shut his eyes and thought about telling Jon what exactly was on his mind. How the opening weekend numbers for Firebrand had come in and they’d been abysmal. How this vid that was supposed to top the box office charts was, instead, turning out to be a flop and a huge disappointment. Just thinking it had a bubble of panic swelling within his chest, increasing the pressure until he could scarcely breathe. And if it burst… “Jon,” he said abruptly, fighting against the panic. “That’s not true.” Jon shot him a sidelong look, one brow raised. 5

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“Come home with me.” Jon rocked back, bracing one hand on the bench behind him. “Shit, seriously?” Adrien nodded, and Jon laughed. “Hell yeah. Hand me my shirt and let’s get out of here.” *

*

*

Adrien’s skin prickled as they stepped out of the club, despite the heat that lingered on the night air. He was vividly aware of Jon’s presence at his side, his cheerful conversation. Jon probably did this all the time, leaving the club with a partner to continue their fun at home, but Adrien never had. He came alone. He left alone. Any hint as to what he did at the club stayed behind its doors, as a rule. He’d had his hand on the small of Jon’s back as they’d worked their way around the crowded dance floor, but dropped it to dig his identcard out of his pocket. He scanned it at the valet terminal, then stepped out of the glare of the streetlights. The last thing he needed was for someone on the street to catch a glimpse of him and summon their friends to come gawk. Jon pressed in close, pulling on Adrien’s shoulders. “Kiss me,” he demanded. Adrien ducked out from under his hands. “Not here.” Jon’s brows drew together. “Why not? I don’t want to wait.” He hooked his arm around Adrien’s neck and dragged him down. Adrien hissed out a breath. He grabbed fistfuls of Jon’s shirt and hauled him back. “Damn it, this isn’t the place. Get off of me.” Jon rocked back. He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side. His lips flattened until they’d disappeared. “Fine. Whatever.” 6

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Adrien knew he should say something to soften the blow, but he had no words. The whirr of the car as it approached was a welcome excuse to turn away. It pulled up to the curb and stopped before the terminal. The doors slid open, beckoning, offering blessed privacy. Adrien ducked inside and wondered if Jon was going to change his mind about following. Jon joined him in the car, but he sat with his arms tight across his ribs, his face turned aside. He stared out the window as the car whisked them home, and didn’t soften until the doors opened again and Adrien’s home loomed before them. “Holy shit.” Jon climbed out, staring up at it. “You live in this place?” “When I’m in town.” Adrien spared the house a quick glance. Even shrouded by night, it was clearly massive. But he was used to it, and hadn’t stopped to think that Jon might not be. “I’ll give you a tour.” He took Jon by the arm and led him forward. There were too many shadows out here, too many places where photographers might be hiding. He had good security, but the paparazzi were always coming up with new gadgets to circumvent their systems. “Later.” He pulled Jon into the house. When the door swung shut behind them, Adrien pushed him against it, firm enough to make him catch his breath. Adrien kissed him until Jon sighed into his mouth and was pressing against him, eager and inviting once more. Adrien dragged him up the staircase, tearing clothes off of him with each step. “Lights,” he muttered between kisses as they stumbled into the bedroom. “Fifty percent.” The lights rose, illuminating the room. Jon broke away from the kiss with a breathless laugh. “Jesus. Think your bed’s big 7

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enough?” The mattress and frame were both custom, broader than king size. “It’ll do.” Adrien lifted Jon onto it and pressed him down. “I’ll show you.” *

*

*

The Spanish sun beat down on the back of Felix’s neck. He brushed a sweat-damp strand of hair from his brow before crouching to grasp the woven handles of the grocery bags. He had half a mind to stay out there all day, despite the sun. He’d scarcely been gone an hour, and the time alone hadn’t done anything to improve his mood. But the groceries were getting warm, and the milk wouldn’t keep. He hefted the bags off the ground and carried them up the flagstone walk to the front door. He pushed the handle down with his elbow and pushed inside. The cool air in the house prickled over the sweat on his nape. He put the groceries down and turned, found Cristian just where he’d expected him. Sitting in the overstuffed armchair by the big picture window, the sun streaming over him like something from a painting. He had his datascreen balanced on his lap and hadn’t even lifted his head at Felix’s entrance. “You might help,” Felix snapped, and strode back out into the midday heat to retrieve the last of the bags. When he returned, the chair was empty, the datascreen abandoned upon it. The grocery bags were gone from the entryway. Felix followed the sound of cupboards slamming shut into the kitchen. Cristian crouched in front of the fridge, pulling out the grapes 8

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and apples that Felix had bought and methodically making space for them in the fridge’s drawers. He still didn’t offer Felix even a glance of acknowledgment. It’s going to be like that, is it? Felix stared at his back. He hated that they were reduced to this, Cristian working in silence while Felix struggled to decipher his mood through the tension that ran down his back. “Cristy—” “I was working, you know.” Cristian swung the refrigerator shut with a bang. “We have two families scheduled to show up tonight, one vegetarian and one with food allergies. I was putting together a menu that could accommodate them both. Just because I didn’t want to go to the market with you doesn’t mean I sat around idle.” Felix slammed his bag down on the counter. “It’s not about the market.” Cristian said nothing, just continued to unpack the groceries clustered around his feet. “You never go out at all. You just hide away in here—” “You know why.” Cristian’s voice throbbed with anger. Felix sucked air through his teeth and struggled to control his temper. “I do know why, and I still say it’s a poor excuse. God, Cristy, do you intend to spend your whole life locked up in here, cooking breakfast and washing linens for strangers? What kind of life is that?” Cristian braced his hands on the floor as though to push himself up, then hesitated, staring down at his hands. “It’s a satisfying life.” He rose and turned to face Felix. “I have you, don’t I? I have everything I want.” Felix shook out the empty bags and began folding them up, just 9

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so he had something to do with his hands. “That’s a lie,” he said softly, and watched irritation pass over Cristian’s face, drawing his brows together and thinning his lips. Felix waited, hardly daring to breathe, but Cristian just let out a breath and shook his head. “Why would you say that? You know that’s not true.” He closed the distance between them and took the bags from Felix’s hands. He set them on the counter and stepped in, pressing against Felix. Felix’s arms went around his waist without thought. Cristian leaned his chin on Felix’s shoulder and hugged him close. “I love you,” he murmured. “I’m perfectly happy. I don’t know why you have such a hard time believing that.” Felix shut his eyes and breathed the scent of soap in Cristian’s hair. Because I know you. Because I knew you, once, and this isn’t you. And I miss the man I fell in love with. The words spun through his mind, refusing to be silenced. He held on to Cristian hard, wishing he could share in his certainty that everything was fine, and would be fine. “The milk’s getting warm,” he said, and turned away before Cristian could read the doubt on his face. *

*

*

They fucked long into the night, until Adrien was too exhausted to manage another round. He lay on his back staring at the ceiling, pretending he didn’t notice the way Jon sprawled half on top of him, trying to catch his gaze. Eventually, Jon gave up and sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair and looked down at Adrien. “Don’t you think this is a little weird?” 10

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It was. Adrien hadn’t expected this awkwardness. Perhaps it was just his bad mood. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I mean, I know tons about you. All anyone has to do is flick on their datascreen and they’re bound to stumble upon some vid station broadcast about Hollywood and the Grant family dynasty. But you don’t know anything about me, do you? You’ve never so much as asked me my last name.” Oh God. Adrien pressed his thumbs to the corners of his eyes. “Does your surname hold some tremendous insight as to who you are, Jonathan? It never seemed important.” Jon crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Christ. Were they really going to have this conversation in the middle of the night? All Adrien wanted was to pull the covers over his head and sleep before his foul mood intruded again. Jon wasn’t doing anything to help that, not anymore. “All right, Jon. Tell me who you are.” Maybe if Adrien humored him, Jon would shut up and let him sleep. He snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’m a med student at Seward. Third year.” Adrien made a noncommittal noise and crossed his arm over his eyes. “Medicine. You want to be a doctor?” “Cloning.” Adrien shoved up onto his elbows and stared at him. “Seriously? You want to devote your career to populating the world with clones of people who are too impatient for kids to wait for a relationship?” He looked at Jon, the piercings that riddled his ears, lip, brow. “You don’t look the type.” Cloners always seemed to be the most straight-laced conservative sorts, not someone who looked at home in a fetish club. 11

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Jon arched a brow. “What’s looks got to do with anything?” “Nothing.” Adrien lay down and put his arm over his eyes again. “It was just an observation.” Jon started to respond, but the sudden claxon of Adrien’s ringtone drowned out his words and tore the promise of sleep out of Adrien’s grasp. He bolted upright and scrubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. “Identify,” he barked. “No. Scratch that. Send the fucker to voice mail.” The music cut off, leaving only a ringing in Adrien’s ears. Half a second later, it started again. “Christ! Accept. For God’s sake. Audio, no video.” The last thing he needed was for someone to get an eyeful of him and Jon in bed together. A delicate chime announced that the call had connected. “What the hell do you want?” “Sweetheart, we’ve got a problem.” Adrien shut his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. Even half asleep, he knew that crisp, business-like voice, and he knew it meant trouble. “Amber.” He sighed. “What is it?” “Get your computer on and load up Dish.” Adrien pressed his fingers to the corners of his eyes. He waved one hand at Jon. Jon raised a brow, but slid from the bed and crossed to the wall opposite the bed. He pressed his hand flat against it. A blue glow spread from his fingertips, spreading out to the corners of the wall as the screen came to life. He dragged up Adrien’s news reader without having to be asked and paged to the tabloid Dish with quick flicks of his fingers. He let out a low whistle when it came up. “What is it?” Adrien demanded. 12

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Jon stepped aside so Adrien could see. Amber was right. He couldn’t have missed it. A photo of him stared out from the mag’s front screen, blazoned across his bedroom wall. Not just him—him and Jon, outside the club only hours before. Jon was plastered all over him, his face turned up to Adrien’s, waiting for a kiss. Adrien’s hand was fisted on the back of Jon’s shirt, hiking it up to reveal the broad marks the tawse had left across his back. “God.” Adrien leaned his brow on the heel of his hand and shut his eyes, but he could still see the image burning against the backs of his eyelids. “Amber, it’s not what it looks like. I was trying to get him off of me.” “Well, that doesn’t much matter, does it?” Her voice snapped with irritation. “It looks like you’re about to start tonguing that guy in the middle of the sidewalk, and that’s all anyone else is going to see when they look at it.” The bed shifted under Jon’s weight. Adrien flinched at the touch of hand between his shoulder blades. When Jon started rubbing his back, he flinched away. “You have to leave. Right now.” Jon twisted and stared at him. “It’s the middle of the night. My car’s at the club.” Adrien groped for his wallet on the nightstand, dug a handful of bills out and threw them at him. “Amber, it’s just—” He broke off at the fury in Jon’s stare. “It’s cab fare.” “Go to hell.” He wadded the money up in his fist and hurled it back at Adrien. “I don’t need your handouts. I can pay my own damn way.” He jerked his pants on, then snatched up his shirt and stalked toward the door with it balled in his fist. In the doorway, he stopped and turned back. 13

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“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Adrien sighed. “I know.” Jon slammed the door behind him. A moment passed, then Amber cleared her throat. “I take it that was the problem in question?” “Yes.” Adrien shut his eyes and dropped his head back against the headboard. “He’s gone now.” “Good. About this photo—” “It’s just a trash mag. Everyone knows they’re full of lies.” “No, Adrien, it’s a picture of one of Hollywood’s hottest heartthrobs embracing another guy. If you think this photo isn’t plastered all over the Net by now, then you’re an idiot. You might have at least told me this was coming so I could start prepping a PR release.” “I didn’t know.” He passed his hand over his eyes and wondered, if he could get Amber off the phone, if he’d be able to finally get some sleep. “I didn’t know there were cameras.” He might have guessed, if he’d been thinking at all. He’d known it was a risk, that’s why he’d pushed Jon off of him. But he hadn’t been thinking about tabloids or Amber or PR. He’d just been thinking about escape. “I’m sorry,” he said, to mollify her. “It’s just a photo, taken out of context. Tell them my friend was drunk and I was trying to keep him from falling on his face. Tell them… I don’t know. You always think of something.” “Your faith in me is touching,” Amber said dryly. “One of these days you’re going to do something that I’m not going to be able to blow off, you know. Can’t you just hire a pool boy or a cute gardener ? Something circumspect?” “Don’t you think they’ll catch on when I’m bringing in a new 14

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one every week?” Adrien asked, wry. He didn’t want a pool boy or a cute gardener. Jon had demonstrated well enough the perils of bringing a guy home and letting him think there was a chance for anything more than a nice fuck. “Damn it, Adrien, this isn’t a joke. This is your career. And mine, in point of fact. Do you think you could try not to flush it down the toilet?” “Jesus, Amber, I’m trying.” “Try harder.” She disconnected with a click. *

*

*

Rhadika’s was as busy as ever, but the wait staff immediately showed him back to his usual table, tucked in the back by the kitchen where the heady aroma of spices drifted over them and the noise of cooking kept any nearby ears from overhearing his private conversations. Win was already waiting for him, her datascreen propped against a bowl of chicken pakora and two glasses of salted mint lassi dripping condensation onto the tablecloth. “I demand to know everything,” she told him before he’d even settled into his seat. “About what?” She pinned him with a disapproving glare. “Not what, who.” She gestured with her datascreen. “About this guy you took home, of course.” She glanced at the screen and shot him a grin. “He’s cute.” Adrien made a face. “You’re welcome to him.” He stirred his lassi, frowning down at its frothy surface. Win raised a brow at him. “Is he a special guy? You don’t usually bring your one-night stands back to your place.” 15

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Adrien sighed and scratched his hands through his hair. He’d have been inclined to describe Jon more charitably if Win had asked about him two days earlier, but now all Adrien could think about when Win asked was how claustrophobic Jon had made him feel in his own home. He floundered for something to say about the man. “He’s a med student,” he said at last. “Down at Seward.” Win looked politely interested, but only just. “Doctor?” “Cloner.” That had Win jolting upright in her seat. “Yeah? He doesn’t look the type.” “That’s what I said.” “Well.” Win gave him a wicked smile. “If your career tanks over this, maybe you can pawn off your DNA and get him to give you a discount on a whole passel of mini-Adriens for some rich housewife with a crush.” Adrien stared at her in horror. “Christ,” he muttered. “That’s not funny. Don’t even joke about that.” Win snickered at him. “No? Shawn Lindsay just recently auctioned his code off for millions, and he hasn’t made anything worth watching in over a decade. And did you hear about Ruby Bradwell? You must remember, she bore her own clone a few years back—there was a huge scandal over it because seriously, what the hell’s wrong with her husband’s sperm? Jake’s a god, anyone will tell you—anyway, the kid’s, what, eight now? And Ruby’s trying to hold up her own acting career and play manager for the kid, because no one else wants anything to do with her.” “Poor kid,” Adrien muttered. He sipped at his drink to keep his hands busy. “It’s not her fault her mother’s a complete narcissist.” “Rue named the girl Garnet. Of all the ridiculous things. That poor child’s going to need years of therapy when all is said and 16

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done.” Adrien nodded agreement and flagged down the waiter. “So,” Win said once their food had been delivered, between bites of lamb curry and paneer makhani. “If an escape is what you want, why are you fucking around with clubs and one-night stands? Even I could have told you that wasn’t ever going to be anything more than a temporary fix. You want to escape?” She gestured with her fork. “Then do it. Take a vacation. Go dog sledding in Antarctica or something.” Adrien watched her with wry amusement and picked at his own dish. “Gee, Win, are you trying to get rid of me?” She gave him a dry look. “Gracious, no, if you leave me alone for any length of time at all, I’m quite certain I’ll wither away with grief and loneliness. I only tell you to go because I am a virtuous, self-sacrificing soul who puts your happiness before my own welfare.” She rolled her eyes. “There, did that soothe your ego? Jeez, Adrien, there’s no need for a pity party.” Adrien spooned sauce onto his rice and mixed it with great care. “I don’t know where I’d go anyway. I’ve already filmed movies most anywhere I can think of.” “Not Antarctica.” Adrien rolled his eyes. Win sucked curry sauce from the tines of her fork with a thoughtful look. “Okay, if you’re going to be picky about it, I guess most of Europe’s out… You never did anything in Spain, did you?” Adrien’s brows climbed. He sat back in his seat and watched her across the table. “Spain?” he asked doubtfully. “Sure. You haven’t, have you? You could take a couple weeks, go wander around the countryside, have a torrid affair with some 17

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gorgeous Spanish hunk, and come back and tell me all about it so I can live vicariously through you.” She grinned. “I think it’s a great idea.” “Win.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to have a torrid affair. I just want—” “Escape?” she asked with a lift of her brows. “Spain’s like six thousand miles from here. I guess you could escape farther than that, but you’d end up in Russia freezing your balls off. You’d love Spain. I spent a couple weeks there doing location scouting. We found the most charming bed-and-breakfast, out in the middle of nowhere where no Spanish paparazzi will find you. I could give you the name.” She picked up her datascreen and started flicking through it without waiting for Adrien’s agreement. “Hey, you have to go,” she said suddenly. “Mike Engels swore he saw some guy in the town who looks just like you. He teased me the whole time we were there, thinking you’d followed after me and were hiding out of sight, and every time I went off anywhere he accused me of running off to jump your bones. Anyway, he did lighting for you on Under a Poison Sky, remember? And he swore the guy looked just like you. He started asking me if you’d ever sold your DNA, but I told him that was ridiculous. The guy was almost as old as you are. You’d have been a kid when he was born, so you sure as hell hadn’t been auctioning off your own DNA for a few extra bucks. And never mind how your father feels about that sort of thing. I told him it must be some freak genetic serendipity. But you should go check it out. It’d be fun.” “Fun,” Adrien echoed, staring at her. “To go running around a foreign country, chasing after some poor schmuck who, years ago, a lighting consultant thought looked like me? Win, you have the 18

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strangest idea of fun of anyone I’ve met.” Win grinned at him like that had been a compliment. “It’s up in the hills, you know. The reception is awful. I bet Amber would have a hell of a time getting through to nag you.” Now that was a reason for going that Adrien could get behind, but he still shook his head and pushed rice around on the plate with his fork. “This isn’t that big of a scandal. It’ll pass soon enough. Besides, I can’t go on vacation, we’re supposed to start that promo tour next week. You know, ‘You saved the world with him in Firebrand, now’s your chance to see how the holo experience lives up to the real thing,’ that same old shtick they’re always using.” “A promo tour? For that vid?” Win stared at him, aghast. “Adrien, sweetie, I know you had high hopes for it, but its reviews were awful. I hardly think flying around signing autographs at malls for crazed fangirls is going to turn it into a success.” Adrien said nothing. After a minute, Win grimaced. “Sorry.” She sounded like she meant it. “Truth hurts. But it’s not like it’s your fault the vid tanked. You’re probably the only reason anyone went to see it at all.” “Thanks, Win,” he said with a weary sigh. Her datascreen chimed at her and she glanced down at it, but Adrien kept talking. Win was practically married to her technology. If he shut up every time the thing caught her attention, they’d never have any conversations at all. “I don’t think Jackson Summers would agree with you, though.” “Fuck Summers,” she said with feeling, but without looking up. Her fingers danced over the screen. “He’s an idiot who doesn’t even like the genre. He’s probably just jealous that you’re such a gorgeous stud and all the women moon over you. I bet he’s not…even…” She trailed off, and seemed to have forgotten that 19

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she’d been speaking in the first place. “Not even?” Adrien prompted. Win looked up at him. Her face was white as a sheet. Adrien’s stomach dropped straight down to his toes. “God. What now?” She handed him her datascreen. Adrien glanced at it and saw that she’d queued it up to an entertainment magazine. Not a tabloid, this time, but one of the respectable ones, and their headline story read, Adrien Grant’s Secret Lifestyle—Revealed! Adrien tapped the headline to open the story. Once it had popped up, he skimmed through, his stomach in knots. He couldn’t bear to read the whole thing properly, not once he realized that the whole article was all about how the reporter had dug into the photograph that had come to light that morning and discovered the true purpose of the club that he and Jon had been at. After that, it all turned into rampant speculation about BDSM and Adrien’s level of involvement in the kink subculture. “Jesus Christ!” Adrien shoved away the ’screen and leaned his head in his hands. “He makes it sound like the minute I get home from work, I throw on a pair of leather chaps and go looking for someone to call me Daddy.” He looked across the table at her helplessly. How had things gone so wrong so fast? “I know,” she said. She took the datascreen and slid it back into her purse. “It’s bad.” She’d barely even stopped speaking when Adrien’s phone rang. It surely was just his imagination, but the tone seemed more frantic and insistent than it ever had before. Adrien dug it out of his pocket and glanced at the display. Amber’s name shone brightly on the screen. Adrien looked at Win, feeling like he was about to step into the 20

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lion’s den. “Maybe you need that escape after all?” she suggested. Adrien took a deep breath and punched the button to connect the call, braced for the worst.

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CHAPTER 2 Felix’s gaze rested on Cristian like an itch between his shoulder blades. He had to turn his back to Felix and stare at the wallpaper to keep focused on the handset pressed to his ear, and the voice coming through it. “I’m very sorry, ma’am. What did you say your name was?” “Collins,” she said impatiently. “Amber Collins. But I’m not making this reservation on my behalf. Is that all right?” “That’s fine.” Felix shifted behind him, the quiet sounds of his breathing and his rustling clothes more of a distraction than if he’d shouted in Cristian’s ear. “What name should I register the room under?” She continued on as though he hadn’t spoken. “I’ll need to book the place for three weeks at least.” 22

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Cristian jotted down the woman’s requirements on a notepad as she spoke. “We have king or queen size beds available. If you have a preference— “I’m afraid you misunderstand me. I don’t want to book a room, I want to book your entire place. All the rooms.” Cristian’s pencil froze on the paper. “I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “You want to book every room available? For three weeks?” “Yes, that’s correct,” she snapped. “Is that a problem?” Problem? You’re going to make our season. If you were here, I’d kiss you. “Not at all. When will the guest be arriving?” “Tomorrow afternoon.” He slapped the pencil down on the pad. “Tomorrow? You want to book every room we have, starting tomorrow?” Cristian reached for the planner that he kept on the desk and flipped it open to the next day. “I can’t do that. We’ve already made reservations.” “I’ll buy them out.” “And leave them stranded? No. I’m sorry, that’s not possible.” The woman huffed with irritation. “Very well. We’ll buy out what rooms you do have available. I trust that will not be a problem?” “No,” Cristian murmured. “We can accommodate that.” Behind him, Felix shifted again, then started toward him. Cristian bent his head over the planner and focused on figuring out exactly how many rooms they had available for the better part of a month. His attention scattered all to hell when Felix came up behind him and spread his hand over Cristian’s waist. Felix slid his fingers up Cristian’s back, over his shoulder. Cristian shut his eyes and leaned into the touch. “Ms. Collins? We can work with your request, but—” Felix 23

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moved in behind Cristian, pressing against his back. Cristian had to stop speaking until he was sure his voice wouldn’t give him away. “But you’ll have to rent by the room. If it’s possible to delay the trip, we can lease you the entire building for a discounted rate.” “No, that’s fine. He can’t reschedule. Don’t worry about the rate.” “Okay, great.” Cristian flipped through the planner, marking their suites as occupied for the next three weeks. “There’s just the matter of a deposit. Because of the late notice—” Felix’s breath brushed Cristian’s ear, warm, his lips just barely grazing Cristian’s skin. Cristian bit down hard on his lip and sucked in a breath. He turned to frown at Felix, but that meant that Felix was pressing in against his chest, sliding his thigh between Cristian’s. His mouth was very close, almost brushing. He could have spoken into the phone, if he’d wanted to. Cristian covered the phone’s mouth piece and switched to Spanish. “What’s gotten into you?” Felix raised a brow at him, amused. “Do I need a reason to want you now?” “No, but—” Ms. Collins was talking to him, responding to something in what he’d said, and thank God she was because Felix slid his hand down Cristian’s stomach to press over his cock, and Cristian couldn’t have spoken if he’d tried. “I’m sorry.” How many times had he already said that in this one conversation? Too many. She was going to think he was senile. But Felix’s fingers wandered over Cristian’s cock and he couldn’t think about that, he just had to grit his teeth and force the words out. “Could you repeat that?” Ms. Collins sighed. She sounded irritated. Cristian hoped he wasn’t about to lose her, not when she was booking the place for 24

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three whole weeks. “I said, I hope you understand that discretion is very important to us.” “Yes, of course.” Felix closed his mouth on Cristian’s throat and sucked at his skin. His hands worked Cristian’s pants open and slid inside. Cristian bit back a groan. “We take our guests’ privacy very seriously.” “Of course you do.” Her words snapped with impatience. Cristian opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on Felix’s. Felix smiled a slow grin and closed his fingers around Cristian’s cock. “Privacy is the least of it, Mr. Rodríguez. What my client requires is the utmost certainty that his affairs will remain his own.” “I understand,” Cristian said, but he didn’t really. Perhaps he might have been able to figure it out if Felix wasn’t trying to tug his shirt up and get underneath. “Good. You may expect him tomorrow, then. You have my number if there’s any trouble.” “Just a moment, the guest’s name—” She disconnected without answering him. Cristian should have been irritated by the omission, and by rights he should have called her back and demanded that she give him all the information he needed. But he could barely manage to make sure that he got the phone back in its cradle before Felix caught him up and dragged him into a hungry kiss. “What’s this?” Cristian asked between kisses. “You’re in— quite a mood. It’s not even dark yet.” Felix drew back. “What, I’m not allowed to want you until the sun’s gone down?” Cristian laughed breathlessly and hooked his arms around Felix’s shoulders. “Sure you are.” He pressed back against the side of the desk, so it supported his weight a little and he could part his 25

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legs, so Felix could slide in and match their hips together, as easily as if they’d choreographed it. “Usually you wait, is all.” “No.” Felix curved his hands around Cristian’s hips, jerked him forward. Cristian caught his breath. “Usually you’re busy, so I bite my tongue until it’s late enough I can drag you off to bed.” Cristian tilted his head back, letting Felix kiss along his throat. He curled his fingers into the back of Felix’s shirt, holding on. “I’m busy now.” “Very busy,” Felix agreed. He reached out and switched the phone’s ringer off. Cristian stiffened and drew back a little. “You can’t do that. If someone wants to make a reservation—” He expected Felix to brush it off and keep kissing him. Instead, Felix put just enough distance between them that they were touching, but not pressed together. He looked at Cristian with a narrowed, appraising gaze. “What if someone does?” Cristian ran his tongue over his lip, wishing Felix’s mouth was on his. “They might book somewhere else. We’ll lose business.” “Forget about business for one night, won’t you?” Felix leaned his brow against Cristian’s. “Maybe we miss a few reservations. We can afford it.” “You can afford it,” Cristian snapped, then drew himself up short. It wasn’t like they’d never missed calls before. People left messages or called back, most of the time. And they had the place booked for three weeks solid now. They could afford to lose a little business, even without Felix’s charity. “All right,” he said quietly. “What do you want?” Felix’s expression cleared, swept away beneath a grin. “You could tie me up and fuck me until dawn.” Cristian jerked back and stared at him. “What?” 26

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Felix chewed on his lip, looking thoughtful. “Or I could tie you up, if you’d rather.” “Jesus.” Cristian slid out from between Felix and the desk. “When did ropes come into this?” “It was just a thought.” Cristian sent him a dubious look. “Yeah, but where’d it come from? You’ve never asked me to tie you up before.” Felix smiled and shook his head. He followed after Cristian, closing the distance between them as fast as Cristian put it there. “What can I say? I’ve got an active imagination. Things come to me. You’d be surprised.” He laughed. “Damn it, Cristy, stop running from me or I really will tie you up.” Cristian glanced at the datascreen Felix had left on the back of the couch. He’d been working on it, before he’d wandered over and interrupted Ms. Collins’s phone call. Cristian looked back at Felix and his eyes narrowed with speculation. “Are you looking at kinky porn on there or something, when all this time you’ve been leading me on letting me think you were working?” He dodged sideways and snagged the ’screen off the couch before Felix could reach him. Felix’s eyes widened. The smile slid off his face, replaced with alarm. “Cristy, don’t—” Cristian laughed, delighted. “You are. My God. No wonder you’re so handsy.” He flicked on the ’screen and keyed in Felix’s passkey. He didn’t even have to guess—Felix always used their anniversary. “Cristian, wait. Please.” Felix lunged for it, but Cristian held it away, keeping it out of reach. “Give it back.” “I can’t believe we’ve been together all this time and you never told me.” Cristian paged through the browser history. “I 27

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would’ve—” He flicked to the last page in the history and trailed off into stunned silence. Cristian’s face—no, not his face at all, by rights it belonged to Adrien Grant—looked out from the screen. “What is this?” Cristian demanded. Felix stared at him in wretched desperation. “It’s nothing. Please give it back.” “But why would you—” Cristian glanced down at the datascreen again, and this time he was able to look past the shock of seeing an image of Adrien Grant upon it, and see that it was an article in a magazine, the entire point of which seemed to be to speculate about the scandalous revelation of the actor’s interest in BDSM and the kink lifestyle. Cristian threw it down in revulsion. He stared at Felix, hardly able to believe it. But Felix was looking miserable, and glancing sideways at where the ’screen had landed on the couch as though if only he could get his hands on it, he could erase the last five minutes as though they’d never happened. “What is that?” Cristian demanded, his voice shaking. Felix shut his eyes, then opened them and met Cristian’s gaze. “Nothing,” he said with feeling. “It’s nothing that matters.” “It’s Adrien Grant,” Cristian snarled. “And you thought— Is that why you suggested—” Felix raised his voice suddenly, speaking urgently over Cristian. “I thought that you’ve liked it when our sex got a little rough before,” he said, “and that it might be fun to explore. That’s all. That’s all, Cristy.” “No. It’s not.” Cristian trembled with shock, with fury. “Please tell me that that article about that man had nothing to do with why your hands were all over me just now.” But it didn’t matter. Felix could say what he liked. Cristian 28

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knew the truth. Felix had been reading that article, and then he’d decided that he wanted to try to get in Cristian’s pants. “God, Felix. Jesus.” “No! Cristy, listen to me.” Felix rushed to him and caught his hands before Cristian could move away. “It’s not what you think.” “You’re going to try to pull that with me? Don’t. Just don’t.” He shook Felix’s hands off and tried to dodge around him. Felix caught him by the shoulders with a painful grip. “Stop. Just shut up and listen to me. It’s not what you think. I couldn’t care less about that man—” “Sure, that’s why you were reading a trash mag article about him.” Cristian rolled his eyes and wrenched at Felix’s grip. “I’m not the one who’s obsessed with him,” Felix shouted, shaking him. Cristian rocked back on his heels. He gaped at Felix, stunned speechless, but only for a moment. “What did you say?” he snarled. “It’s true. He’s all you ever think about. Everything you do is in reaction to him, the way you dress, the way you cut your hair— the way you act, my God, Cristian, you haven’t been yourself in ages. We live out here in the middle of nowhere because you’re so damned scared of being reminded of him. So don’t tell me I’m the one who’s preoccupied with the man.” He bunched Cristian’s shirt up in his fists. “All I am is terrified. Every time you hear that man’s name, you go cold, and I can’t stand it. I love you, and I count myself lucky any time I can convince you to let me touch you.” He released Cristian abruptly, as though he’d only just realized that he was touching him, and perhaps a little harshly. “I was afraid,” he said savagely. “That you’d get wind of this latest 29

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goddamn scandal, and then I may as well move myself into one of the guest rooms, because I sure as hell wouldn’t be getting any action from you at all anymore.” His hands fisted at his sides, opened wide, then fisted again. “I just didn’t want that to happen again. It kills me a little more, every time.” Cristian stared at him for a long moment. His heart pounded like it was going to burst out of his chest. “That’s bullshit,” he snarled. “If you don’t like who I am—” “I love who you are,” Felix said, his voice throbbing. “I just wish you did, too.” Cristian jerked back, then spun away. “Don’t give me that.” His voice lashed out as he stalked for the stairs. “That’s a load of crap. I’m just fine with who I am.” Felix followed after him. “Really? You’re just fine with the fact that your Adrien Grant’s clone?” Cristian froze halfway up the stairs. He spun and stared down at Felix, who was a few steps below him. “Could have fooled me,” Felix said softly. “You know how I feel.” Cristian kept his voice low and savage. “I hate that man, Felix. And now you’re reading trash about him, and trying to get me to tie you up, just because it’s something he might like? God!” Just the idea of it made Cristian flinch back. “If you loved me at all, you’d—” Felix didn’t say a thing, but the intensity of his stare suddenly hardened, and it cut Cristian off as effectively as a harsh word. “If I love you.” Felix rubbed his hand over his mouth, then fisted it in the hair at his nape. “God, Cristy. If you doubt that—” His voice broke. He shut his eyes, took a moment. When he opened them again, it was like he’d pulled a curtain up between them. “I guess you’d better figure that out, hadn’t you?” He spun, 30

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continued back downstairs, and strode across the foyer and all the way out the front door. Cristian stood frozen halfway up the flight of stairs. He didn’t stop Felix, and he didn’t chase after him. *

*

*

The six hour flight to Badajoz left Adrien wanting nothing more than a hot shower and a long nap in a proper bed. He paid a skycap at the airport to carry his bags, and made his way to the rental car service to pick up the vehicle Amber had reserved for him. “There’s been a mistake,” he said when the agent brought the car up for him. Adrien crouched and looked through the tinted windows, at the steering wheel and controls that cluttered the interior. “I requested a vehicle with autodrive.” “Of course, sir. But we were given to understand that you were traveling out to Caceres, and I’m afraid the network infrastructure doesn’t extend up into the hills yet. You won’t get farther than Mérida with autodrive.” So much for catching some sleep on the drive in. Adrien waved away the man’s explanations and slid behind the wheel. Movement in the rearview mirror caught his attention. A man with a camera approached the car, trying to swing around so that he could get pictures through the window. Adrien slammed the car into gear and punched the gas. It growled responsively beneath him and rocketed away, leaving the photographer far behind him. It was too much to have hoped that he might avoid the limelight here entirely. Commercial flights took less than half the time they would have even a few years earlier, but news still 31

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traveled faster. Even here, anyone who cared would surely know about the scandal by now. He drove faster than he should have. Amber would kick his ass if he got himself in trouble for speeding when he was supposed to be on vacation, staying out of the way, while she sorted out the mess he’d made. But Amber was six thousand miles away and it was hard to care when, even here, he was hounded by photographers and speculation. He just wanted out. He just wanted peace. For three weeks, at least, he wanted to be able to set down the burden of who he was, and just relax. *

*

*

“Get up.” Felix flicked the bedroom lights on and flung the quilt off of Cristian. “It’s the middle of the day, for heaven’s sake. I’ve already done half your chores for you.” He’d tried to wake Cristian earlier that morning, but he’d refused to get out of bed and snarled at Felix when he tried to force the matter. “No.” Cristian rolled away from the door and dragged the blankets over his head. “That wasn’t a question.” Felix strode across the bedroom and opened the blinds, letting in the brilliant midday sun. Outside, the water in the pool glistened like a jewel and a curtain of flowers clung to the fence around their property. And Cristian had shut all of it away behind doors and drapes. “Stop lying here feeling sorry for yourself and take a shower. That new guest is checking in soon, and the least you could do is look presentable.” Cristian shut his eyes and turned his face in against the pillow. “I don’t care.” 32

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“You should. It’s your business.” Cristian didn’t even respond to that. “How long are you going to stay up here moping?” Felix demanded. “I hope you don’t expect me to run this place for you while you sit up here sulking.” Cristian sighed like he carried the weight of the world with him. “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled into his pillow. “Do what you like.” Felix stared down at him. “What doesn’t matter?” Cristian dragged his arm up over his eyes, shielding them. “All of it.” Felix’s breath hissed out of him in anger. “Get up. Get in the shower, for fuck’s sake. I’ll see to this guest, but don’t expect me to make a habit of it. I’m not the one who wanted to move out here to the middle of nowhere and run a bed-and-breakfast, when we could be kicking our heels up in the city without a care in the world. And I’m not about to take over now just because you’re in a mood.” He turned and left before Cristian could have responded, though in this mood, whether he even would have was debatable. He made sure the room was ready, clean and bright and inviting, and put a vase of bluebells cut from the garden on the dresser. Then he went down to make coffee. Cristian had said that the woman who made the reservation had spoken English, and her accent had been American. If that’s where their guest was coming from, he was bound to be jet lagged and road-weary. He found a few more little tasks to keep him busy, and keep his mind off his irritation with Cristian. He’d just started to search for something else to occupy him when the doorbell rang, a little earlier than they’d been told to expect him. Felix paused at the door to ensure he looked pleasant and 33

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welcoming, and that there was no trace of his irritation with Cristian left in his expression. He pulled the door open and smiled in greeting, but just as quickly, the smile fell off his face. Adrien Grant stood on the doorstep, bag in hand, several more piled high in the back of the sports car out on the drive behind him. He smiled and reached his hand out to shake Felix’s, but Felix just stared, dismayed. “Oh no.” Adrien’s brows lifted. His smile faltered, turned to puzzlement. “Sorry, I know I’m a little early. That’s not a problem, is it?” “You…” Adrien stepped forward toward him. Felix moved back instinctively, then bit down on his lip and cursed himself in silence. “I don’t think—” Adrien stopped in the middle of the foyer and turned back. His expression was still pleasant, but he was frowning a little, as though in bemusement or chagrin. “I’m Adrien Grant,” he said, and offered his hand again. “I know who you are.” “Yeah.” Adrien sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Most people do.” Overhead, the ceiling creaked. It might have been Cristian getting up and walking around, getting dressed, getting ready. “You can’t stay here,” Felix blurted without thought, horrified at the idea of what might happen if Cristian came downstairs and found Adrien Grant standing in his living room. “I have a reservation.” The corner of Adrien’s mouth turned up. “Though I guess I can see the confusion. It should be under the name Amber Collins, I think.” “No. There’s been a mistake.” He ushered Adrien out of the foyer and out the door before he could gather his wits enough to protest. “We’re booked solid. You can’t be here.” “I beg your pardon.” Adrien drew himself up, his brows 34

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furrowing with indignation. Saints preserve me, Felix thought. They even glower at me the same. And he shut the door in Adrien Grant’s face. He leaned back against the door briefly, catching his breath. Then he started up to warn Cristian. Halfway up the stairs, the house phone rang. Felix swore and ran the rest of the way. He burst into the bedroom, but Cristian was already on the phone, pinning it between his shoulder and ear as he stammered an apology. “No, I’m sorry, there must have been a misunderstanding. Yes, the room’s still reserved, just as you requested. All three weeks. I’m terribly sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” He threw a glare at Felix across the room. Felix waited until he’d disconnected, then strode forward. “Do you even know who Amber Collins is?” “Beyond the obvious? Should I?” “I don’t know,” Felix snapped. “You seem to know everything else about Adrien Grant. I’d have thought you might recognize the name of his agent.” Cristian rocked back and stared at Felix. His brows lifted, then furrowed with suspicion. “He’s here, Cristy. That reservation she made was for him. That’s why I told him he couldn’t stay.” “Adrien Grant?” Cristian said slowly. “He’s here?” His expression hardened. He swung his legs off the bed and got to his feet, stalked toward the door. His shoulders were set with resolve. Felix knew his body language well enough by now to know that whatever Cristian intended, nothing good was going to come of it. He rose and hurried after, hoping Cristian wasn’t about to do something stupid. 35

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Cristian took the stairs two at a time and pulled open the front door. Felix came up behind him in time to see Adrien stop his pacing across the porch and turn toward the door. His gaze landed on Felix first, registering nothing more than irritation. Then it slid sideways, and he noticed Cristian. His eyes went wide, his face ashen. “What—” “Son of a bitch,” Cristian snarled. Felix put a hand on his back to comfort him, but he tensed under Felix’s touch, then spun and stalked back into the house. Adrien stared past Felix, at Cristian’s retreating back. He looked taken aback. More than that, he looked shaken. “Who was that?” “His name is Cristy.” Felix made a face. “Cristian. Don’t call him Cristy. He won’t like it.” Not that Cristian had ever been inclined to like anything Adrien did. “He…bears a rather striking resemblance—” “I should think so.” Perhaps Felix’s tone was unkind, more so than Adrien deserved, but he couldn’t help himself. Nothing good at all would come of Adrien’s presence. All he’d bring with him was strife, and he and Cristian worked up enough of that on their own. “He is your clone, after all.” “My—” Adrien dropped the phone from his ear and stared at Felix. “Excuse me, my what?” Felix didn’t say anything, just returned his stare. Adrien had heard him just fine. “My…clone…” Adrien spoke the words slowly, as though trying them on for size. His brow wrinkled. “But how—” “I haven’t the faintest idea. I’m not the one to ask. If you’ll excuse me—” He turned and followed after Cristian. “But— Wait, hold on.” 36

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Felix ignored him. He caught up with Cristian in the hall and caught him by the arm. Cristian didn’t say a word, but he tried to wrench free. Felix kept his grip and drew him back. “What is he doing here?” He slammed his fists against Felix’s shoulders, then caught his shirt in his fists and clung. “Goddamn it, he’s fucking everywhere. All I ever wanted was peace.” “Hush.” Felix worked Cristian’s hands open, freeing his shirt, and drew him into an embrace. Cristian pressed his face to Felix’s chest, so tense that he shook. “You can have your peace. We aren’t the only place in Caceres with rooms for rent.” “I hate him,” Cristian snarled against Felix’s chest. “Don’t say that.” Felix turned his face up and kissed Cristian upon the brow. “If he didn’t exist, neither would you. And then what would I do with myself?” “Move to the city.” Cristian turned his cheek against Felix’s shoulder and sighed. “Go out clubbing and eat at nice restaurants and live off your money, instead of being stuck out here in the middle of nowhere with some celebrity’s misbegotten clone.” Felix grimaced. “Restaurants are nice,” he said carefully, “but they’re rather dull without someone to eat with.” He tugged at Cristian’s hair. “I’d be very lonely.” “I don’t want him here.” “It’s your place. You don’t have to have him.” He stroked his hands over Cristian’s hair. “You can go out there and tell him off like you’ve always wanted, and kick him off your land.” Cristian balked, his brows lowering. As he gazed up at Felix, his jaw tightened. “We need the money,” he said at last. “No, we don’t.” “This place needs the money. I’m not going to run it off your bank account. I promised you that.” He squared his shoulders and 37

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started toward the front door. “And I am not going to be made a liar by Adrien Grant.” *

*

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After half an hour and fielding at least a dozen glares, Adrien finally managed to secure the key to his room. Felix gave him directions, up two flights of stairs and down the hall into a wing of the house that jutted off into the bushes at the back of the grounds. Adrien’s brows lowered. “Look, I get that he’s not thrilled to have me here, but there’s really no reason to shove me out of sight. If you guys want me gone, I’ll leave, you don’t have to try to chase me away.” Felix’s expression was blank for a moment. Then understanding dawned, and he shook his head. “No, it’s not that.” He flicked Adrien’s key with a finger. “That’s the family suite. It’s bigger than the others, and it’s isolated from the other guests in that wing, for guests who have children. Your agent was very clear about how important privacy was to you, and so we thought—well, I thought—that you’d prefer the bigger space, and the seclusion. We’ve got a tour group coming through in a few days, and they’re always raucous.” Adrien let his breath out slowly, and released his irritation with it. “Oh. Yes, thank you.” He jangled the key idly, lost in thought. “It’s quiet, you say?” Felix nodded and offered him a slight smile. “Cristy and I have the room on the floor below yours. You can’t hear anything from the rest of the house. Will that do?” “Yes. It’ll do.” Adrien palmed the key and headed up. “Thank you.” 38

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As soon as he was in the suite with the door locked behind him, Adrien dug his phone out of his pocket. He punched the button labeled Home and moved to the bed, fingers drumming against his thigh while it rang. It connected on the third ring, just before it would have dumped him to voice mail. A smooth voice answered, “Stephen Grant.” “Dad.” Nerves exploded in Adrien’s stomach. He flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m in Spain.” “Are you? How’s the weather?” Stephen asked without interest. “It’s fine. Dad. There’s a guy here…” His father said nothing, waiting for him to continue. Impatience twisted through Adrien, followed closely by irritation. Was he going to pretend that he didn’t know? It couldn’t be possible. You couldn’t even step into a cloner’s office without a stack of consent forms a mile high. And that was if you were bringing them your own DNA. Bring in someone else’s, and you practically had to have the contracts signed in blood. “Dad, is there something you need to tell me?” Adrien demanded, scowling up at his suite’s ceiling. “Can’t imagine what, Adrien. Has something happened?” Adrien blew his breath out all at once. He tried again. “There’s this guy here—” “Are you enjoying yourself? You always did make friends the minute you stepped into a new place.” “Dad, just shut up.” Adrien shoved himself upright. “He’s my clone.” The silence that spread out from that statement stretched between them as tight as a piano wire. “Son, did you…” Stephen’s voice sounded weary and resigned, 39

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even over the spotty, crackling signal. “Tell me you didn’t. If you needed money, you know you could have—” “I didn’t,” Adrien snapped. His own father thought he might have been that desperate? “I didn’t do this. He’s got to be nearly my age. A couple years younger, maybe. This happened when I was a kid.” He hardened his voice, turned it steely and cold. “I was hoping you might have an explanation.” Stephen said nothing, but Adrien could feel the stunned insult radiating through his silence. At last, his father drew a long breath, inhaling through his nose. Adrien tensed, waiting for the explosion. “You think I had you cloned?” Stephen demanded at full volume. “You think that’s something I would do? And then send the kid off to Spain? And never tell you that there’s a guy wandering around Europe who could potentially ruin your career just by showing his face? Jesus Christ, Adrien.” Adrien drew a deep breath. No one ever got his blood pressure spiking the way his father could with a single word, but letting himself get riled up had never done him a lick of good. “Well, somebody did. Who else should I ask? Mom? It’s not like people can just wander into a clinic with a cheek swab and make a clone any old time they want.” “God,” Stephen groaned. “Don’t you breathe a word of this to your mother. She’ll have a stroke.” “I’m not,” Adrien said with a sigh. “I just want to know where the hell this guy came from.” “You could ask him.” Adrien thought of his brief encounter with the man, the way he glared at Adrien like he had something to prove, then swore and stomped off as though Adrien’s vacation was a personal insult. “I don’t know that that’s a good idea,” he said. 40

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His father made a wordless sound that might have meant anything. Adrien sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees, his brow on his palm. “You really don’t know anything about him?” “Not a thing,” Stephen admitted, grudgingly. He’d never liked to admit ignorance to anything, not once in Adrien’s life. “You’ll need to contact our lawyers right away. If this…this clone decides to try to take advantage of his lineage, it could spell disaster for us. And make sure those damned reporters don’t catch wind of this, or you’ll never hear the end of it.” He grunted. “And neither will we.” “Of course not.” Adrien rolled his eyes. Like he hadn’t been dealing with the limelight all his life. Stephen Grant had been one of the biggest names in Hollywood when Adrien was born, and he wasn’t any less sought-after now than he had been then, with his salt-and-pepper hair and lasting good looks. If there was one thing Adrien had learned from him, it was how to manage his image in the press. Not that this debacle with Jon is any indication of that, he thought with a grimace. But that wasn’t a mistake he had any intention of repeating. “Thanks, Dad,” he said on a sigh. “Tell Mom I love her.” He disconnected, then lay back on the bed again and shut his eyes against the glare of the lamps. It felt like it had been months since he’d stepped onto the plane in LA. He was weary from the flight, from dealing with Amber and the whole mess he’d left back behind him in the States, from his unusual reception at the door of the bed-and-breakfast when he’d thought that here, at least, he might find some peace, and the sudden appearance of a man with his face, snarling and swearing at him. It was barely even edging on toward evening yet, but all he wanted in the world was to sleep for a year. 41

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No rest for the weary. He drew up the address book on his phone. His father was right about one thing—he had a lot of calls left to make.

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CHAPTER 3 Win answered her phone just before it would have kicked Adrien to voice mail, her bleary voice drawling across the static, “You’d better be calling me because your plane crash landed in the middle of the Atlantic and you’re floating on a piece of driftwood with only enough battery left to place one call, and I’m the only person in the world you trust to call the authorities and save your stupid ass,” she said. “Otherwise, don’t bother coming home, because I’m going to kill you.” “Win,” he said. “You want to hear this.” “No, I don’t. I really don’t. What I want is sleep.” Sounds came over the line that he thought might have been her moving around, sitting up in bed, maybe even getting out and walking around. “But you’re going to tell me anyway, because you always do. I hope you 43

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intend to make it worth my while.” “You were right.” She snorted. “I’m always right. You didn’t have to wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me that.” Adrien glanced at his watch and tried to remember the time difference between Los Angeles and Spain. “It’s morning there, isn’t it?” “It’s still dark out. That makes it the middle of the night. Now, I would very much appreciate it if you would quit beating around the bush and fill me in on whatever it is that’s got you in such a tizzy.” “You were right,” Adrien said again, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “About the guy here. The one you said looks like me—” “Oh, that.” Win sighed. “Couldn’t it have waited?” “Win, it’s not just a passing resemblance. He’s a clone.” Win was silent for a very long time. When at last she spoke, it was to say, “Hold on. I’m going to need coffee for this.” He waited, listening to the sound of her walking through her home, the beep and hiss of dispensing coffee. “All right, now tell me again. Did you say clone?” “I could have been looking into a mirror.” “That doesn’t mean—” Adrien spoke over her protests. She wasn’t going to say anything he hadn’t already said to himself. “His friend said he was. Said it straight to my face, plain as day. ‘That’s Cristian. He’s your clone.’ He turned about seven shades of green when he saw me, and the other—the clone—looked like he wanted to claw my eyes out. I don’t think they like me at all.” “Well, I hope your fragile psyche can survive the crushing 44

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blow of not being adored by everyone on the planet,” Win said dryly. He rolled his eyes, but a crooked grin pulled at his lips. His humor faded quickly, though, and he passed a hand over his eyes. “What the hell am I supposed to do about this guy?” “Do about him?” If he’d been there, Win would have been staring at him like he’d just started speaking Swahili, he just knew it. “You thank him for breakfast, put your dishes in the sink, keep it quiet after the sun’s gone down, and pay him for the room before you head back home. What the hell else were you thinking of doing?” “I don’t know,” Adrien admitted. “But I can’t just… If word ever got out about him…” “Twenty-odd years and he’s kept out of the spotlight just fine so far. And without any help from you, I might add. I don’t see why you have any reason to worry.” Adrien pinched his brow between his fingers. He couldn’t admit that the emotion he was feeling wasn’t worry, half so much as it was curiosity. Not to Win. She’d scold him until his ears fell off, and then she’d probably book him a ticket and tell him to get his ass home before he did something stupid. “Is that it?” Win asked into the middle of the silence that had fallen between them. “Anything else Spain has thrown at you in the past twelve hours, or may I go back to bed now?” “Your coffee will be cold.” Win hated cold coffee the way kids hated brussels sprouts. And knowing her, she’d call him up when it was the middle of the night in Caceres and bitch him out for making her ruin a perfectly good cup of coffee, just to get back at him. “But my bed’s warm. I think I’ll survive.” 45

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“Night, Win,” he told her. “Tell Mason it’s my fault you’re dead on your feet at work tomorrow, if you have to.” “Don’t think I won’t,” she teased, but then sobered. “Take care of yourself, Adrien. Spain is a very long way to have to go to bail your ass out of trouble.” “Trouble? I’m in the middle of nowhere in rural Spain.” Adrien leaned back against the bed’s footboard, stretched his legs out on the mattress, crossed at the ankle. “How much trouble can I find, really?” “I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that.” *

*

*

A muffled shout and the sound of a door slamming overhead had Felix on his feet in an instant. He dashed upstairs just in time to see Cristian fly down the hallway, muttering a string of obscenities with every step. He shoved their bedroom door open, then banged it shut behind him. Well. Felix stopped at the top of the stairs and leaned his shoulder against the wall. No good will come of that. He glanced down the hall toward Adrien’s room, wondering what he’d done to upset Cristian so quickly. With the sort of mood he’d been in lately, it would have hardly taken anything to set him off. Adrien didn’t emerge, which Felix counted a small mercy. He drew his datascreen out of his pocket and paged through the mags, keeping one eye on the bedroom door. Ten minutes later, he’d read all the updates and there hadn’t been any signs of life from the bedroom. He flicked the datascreen shut, tucked it away, and crossed the hall. 46

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With one swift glance around the bedroom, he found the huddled shape on the bed. Cristian, the blankets pulled all the way over his head. The evening sun cut through their blinds, casting bars of light across his form. Felix settled onto the edge of the mattress and put his hand on what he thought was a hip. “What’s this about, then?” “He’s insufferable.” The words exploded out from beneath the blanket. “‘Oh, excuse me, if it’s not too much trouble, is this the sort of establishment that puts mints on your pillow? I do so love chocolates.’ God!” Felix bit back a smile. Cristian may not have been able to see it, but he would have heard it on Felix’s voice. “Expecting mints in one’s hotel room? The very nerve.” “Don’t you start.” Felix gazed down at the lump that was Cristian, curled small and tight. “It’s not so bad, you know,” he said quietly. “He’s bound to be off doing touristy things all day long. I’m sure you’ll hardly have to see him.” “Go away,” Cristian snapped. Felix rocked back and scowled down at him. “If all you’re going to do is talk like that, then just leave me alone.” For a long moment, Felix neither spoke nor moved. It always ends up like this, he thought, exhausted by it. One wrong word and the ground shifted beneath his feet, landing him square in the middle of a minefield. It didn’t matter what he did—he was bound to set off an explosion. More the fool, me. I never learn. I can’t help trying to defuse the situation. “You did choose to let him stay,” he said, slowly, edging out 47

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into the minefield. Eyes shut, breath still, praying he didn’t take a wrong step. “You didn’t have to.” “I told you—” “You chose this. You chose to have him here.” Cristian drew a swift, sharp breath, then held it. Silence stretched, tension so sharp it lifted the hairs on the back of Felix’s neck. “You can go now.” Cristian’s tone cut, even muffled by the blanket. “Cristy,” Felix said on the tail end of a sigh. “I said fuck off, Felix!” Felix caught his breath and shuddered. He drew his hand away and stared down at Cristian’s blanket-covered form for an instant longer before he got to his feet. “Stay up here and sulk like a child, then.” His voice shook. He couldn’t help it, wouldn’t have even if he’d been capable. He stormed out. Cristian didn’t call after him. Felix wouldn’t have stopped, even if he had. He was shaking by the time he reached the kitchen. He grabbed a tumbler from the cupboard and the first bottle that came to hand from the liquor cabinet. His trembling fingers made the ice clink against the sides of the glass as he filled it. He sank onto a stool at the counter and drained half the tumbler, then leaned his head in his hands, the glass icy against his brow. The liquor burned on the way down, but not hot enough or long enough to erase the memory of the venom in Cristian’s words. Not yet, anyway. The night was still young, and their liquor cabinet well stocked. *

* 48

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Adrien hesitated at the base of the stairs, listening for any signs activity from the kitchen. The last thing he needed was another encounter like last night’s, with Cristian snarling at him and stomping around and slamming doors. But the kitchen was silent, tempting him with the promise of at least getting one cup of coffee in peace. He could face almost anything—even a hostile clone—with a few cups of good coffee in him. He slipped through the doorway into the kitchen, but froze two steps in. Someone had beat him down here after all. Felix, he guessed, by the mop of tousled auburn hair. He sat on one of the stools at the bar, facedown on the counter with his head in his arms, an empty bottle beside him and the sharp smell of alcohol on the air. Asleep? Adrien could only hope. Felix had been more civil to him than his partner, but only just. Adrien cleared his throat with a quiet cough. Felix jerked his head up. He stared at Adrien through redrimmed eyes. Too much to hope, then, that he’d drunk himself into a stupor and Adrien could escape with his coffee unnoticed. He scarcely had an instant to consider whether he’d rather face what was bound to be an awkward encounter at best or slip out the front door and seek his morning cup at a nice little cafe. Felix jumped off the stool, toppling it over with a clatter, and rushed at him. Adrien took one quick step back, alarm singing through him. But Felix caught him and pulled him into a rough embrace, his arms wrapping tight around Adrien’s waist. “I love you. I’m sorry.” His words tripped and slurred together. He moved one hand up to the back of Adrien’s head and kissed him hard on 49

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the mouth. His breath tasted of cheap whiskey. “I never should have let you make that stupid promise. It doesn’t matter. It’s not worth it. I’ll kick him out myself. We don’t need the money.” Adrien tried to draw back, but Felix’s strength didn’t waver. “You’re going to kick me—” No, Felix thought he was Cristian. Maybe if Adrien didn’t disabuse him of the notion just yet, he could figure out why the hell everyone here seemed to hate him. “I mean, you’re going to kick him out?” “As soon as he’s up. You don’t have to worry about it. You won’t have to see him again.” Felix drew back, allowing a breath of space between them. He patted Adrien’s cheek, leaned their brows together. Then turned away. “I’ll make you some coffee.” Now that’s more like it. Maybe he could get his nice, peaceful cup after all. If he had to pretend to be Cristian for a few minutes to get it, well, so be it. Felix shoved a mug under the dispenser and turned the machine on. It beeped and hissed, and the aroma of coffee filled the air. Adrien drew a deep breath, savoring it and the promise it carried, but Felix just leaned heavily against the counter, his brow on the heel of his hand. He looked like he’d been on a bender all night long and straight through to morning. Considering the whiskey on his breath, the empty bottle, and the way Felix avoided looking at him as he cleared it away and dumped it in the trash, maybe that’s exactly what he’d been doing. He started another cup when the first had finished and spooned sugar into it. Adrien nearly stopped him, but then recalled himself. Felix would know how Cristian drank his coffee, of course. He’d know if Adrien requested something else. Choke it down , he told himself. Even bad coffee is better than no coffee at all. 50

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Felix set the cup in front of him, said, “There you are, love,” and turned away again to get the second cup. Adrien sipped the coffee, braced for bitterness or cloying sweetness. But when the first sip hit his tongue, it was perfect. “God,” he groaned, despite himself. “That’s incredible.” Felix shot him an amused look over his shoulder. “Two sugars, same as always. You must have slept almost as poorly as I did, if you’re that impressed by it.” Adrien bit back his reply. He was going to give himself away, and he still didn’t know anything more than he had before. Except that apparently he and Cristian took their coffee the same way, which was more than a little disconcerting. With Felix’s coffee sweetened—no cream, Adrien noted—he carried it to the counter and sat opposite Adrien. He reached one hand out and covered Adrien’s with it, let it linger. Adrien dropped his gaze to the countertop. He couldn’t look into Felix’s eyes and not reveal himself. “So you’re going to kick him out. Just like that? Why?” Felix’s fingers tightened around his. “Must we talk about that now? God, Cristy.” He swept a hand over his eyes. “Because you’re going to be miserable and I can’t bear the thought of living with you like that. Because—” He broke off. His fingers spasmed against Adrien’s hand. Adrien lifted his gaze, but Felix stared past him, at something just over his shoulder. All the color slowly drained from his face. He’d been haggard before, but now he looked worse. Adrien turned. Cristian stood in the doorway, watching Felix with a gaze that could have frozen the sun. “What are you doing?” “Nothing.” Felix pulled his hand away from Adrien’s. He poured cream into his own, untouched cup and carried it over to 51

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Cristian. “I made coffee for you, love.” Cristian took the cup but didn’t drink. His eyes stayed on Felix’s face, darkening with suspicion. “Felix.” He jerked away as though Cristian had burned him. “I didn’t…” He turned, his gaze seeking Adrien, helpless, hopeless. “I thought…” Cristian jerked back, his eyes going wide, then narrowed and dangerous. “What?” Adrien flinched back from the violence in his tone. Felix held his ground, but didn’t speak. Cristian advanced on him one single, slow step. “Go on, tell me. You thought what?” When Felix still didn’t answer, he threw a hand out toward Adrien. “You thought I was him?” Whatever it was that had held Felix stiff, it crumbled in the face of Cristian’s fury. Felix threw himself at him, wrapped himself around Cristian the way he had around Adrien earlier, hands fisting on his shirt and handfuls of his hair. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t mean anything.” Cristian caught him by the back of the neck and held him back. He ran his tongue over his teeth, his brows furrowing. “Have you been drinking?” He looked Felix over. His expression slid from fury to disgust. “Are you drunk? It’s barely morning! Jesus, what’s wrong with you?” “I was waiting for you.” Felix’s voice shook. “I was waiting to tell you that I was going to throw him out. We don’t need him here, Cristy! What good is your pride if it’s going to destroy us?” Cristian’s gaze snapped to Adrien, though he hadn’t made a sound, hadn’t even dared to move for fear of finding himself at the center of this storm. Before he could gather his wits enough to admit that the whole misunderstanding had been his fault, for not 52

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correcting Felix when he’d had the chance, Cristian spun on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen. Felix followed after him as though pulled by a string. “Cristy,” he pleaded. “Cristy, please.” Their footsteps pounded up the stairs, across the floors overhead. A door slammed twice overhead. And then the shouting started. “Fuck,” Adrien said into the empty kitchen. He rose and dumped his coffee down the sink. So much for peace. *

*

*

“Cristian— Cristian, for God’s sake!” Cristian threw open the front door so hard it bounced off the wall and nearly swung shut in Felix’s face. He shouldered it open and followed Cristian down the walk, shouting for him. Cristian didn’t stop, didn’t even slow. He hurled himself into the car and pulled the door shut behind himself so hard it sounded like a gunshot. He had the engine running before Felix even reached the car. Felix pulled at the handle, but the doors were locked, and Cristian’s face was set in a grim expression. Felix pounded on the glass, but Cristian shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway as though he weren’t there, forcing Felix to leap out of the way. He backed into the street, then put the car into drive and sped away. Felix stood in the driveway and stared after him, aching and raw. He hurt—God, he hurt. He and Cristian had had their fights through the years, and sometimes they got so loud it seemed the whole town must have heard. Cristian shouted and threw things, and sometimes when his temper got the better of him he broke 53

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them, but he’d never walked out on Felix like this. Felix fisted his hands in his hair and stared down the empty street. He wanted to cry, or scream. He wanted to take off after him, even knowing he’d never catch up. He wanted a drink. He dug his phone out of his pocket and called Cristian’s cell. His hands shook as he pressed it to his ear. Cristian didn’t answer the first time, and when Felix savagely punched the button to call him again, it sent him straight to voice mail. Felix sank onto the curb, his head in his hands. He heard the door to the house open, farther up the walkway, but he didn’t move. Adrien—it had to be Adrien—came out and stopped just behind him. He didn’t speak, and Felix didn’t have anything in him worth saying. He stayed where he was, trying to pretend that his world wasn’t crashing down around him. Neither of them moved or spoke for several minutes. Cars drove by on distant roads, and every one of them made Felix tense, hoping it was Cristian, come back so they could make up. But it was a futile hope, and he knew it. At length, Adrien came to sit down on the curb next to him. Felix tensed and turned away from him. He couldn’t bear to look at him, not right now. Not when all he would see was Cristian. “I’m sorry,” Adrien said softly. Felix drew a ragged breath. “Sorry? You’re sorry? What the hell good does that do?” Adrien rocked back, looking startled, but he didn’t argue. He just shook his head. “It doesn’t do any good at all, I guess. But it’s still the truth.” Felix should have just shut up and he knew it. But the gates were open now, and he couldn’t stop once he began. “This is all your fault,” he snarled. “He could be happy if it weren’t for you. 54

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All anyone ever sees when they look at him is you. All he sees when he looks in the mirror is you. He’s lived every day of his life with the knowledge that the only reason he exists at all is because someone wanted you for themselves. I’ve spent years trying to convince him that I love him, for just exactly who he is and nothing to do with some rich-kid movie star half a world away.” Felix groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. “And then you go and walk into my kitchen and let me think… How was I to know? Every day, I make coffee and he comes down and we sit at the bar together. Every day. And I just…” He sighed. “But it doesn’t matter. He hates the idea of being compared to you so much, it’s worse than anything else I might have done, that I held a conversation with you and I didn’t realize you weren’t him. And now…” Felix gestured helplessly. “Now he’s gone, and I don’t know when he’s coming back. I don’t know if he’ll want to speak to me when he does.” He turned and looked at Adrien, straight at him, desperate for any of this to have a meaning beyond coincidence and chance. “Why are you here?” he demanded. “Why us? Everything’s gone to pieces.” Adrien shook his head slowly. He stared out at the empty road before them, bleak and unhappy. “I don’t know.” He dropped his gaze to the asphalt between his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset him. Or you.” Adrien reached out slowly, with obvious uncertainty, and put his hand on Felix’s shoulder. His touch was warm through Felix’s shirt, and he looked at Felix with such concern, and all Felix wanted was for Cristian to be there. He buried his face in his hands and took a great, shuddering breath. Even now, even knowing, it was still hard to remember that it wasn’t Cristian he was sitting next to. 55

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Adrien patted his shoulder awkwardly for a few minutes. When Felix didn’t snap at him or shove him away, he rubbed his hand comfortingly up and down Felix’s spine. It should have been Cristian. He wanted it to be Cristian. But if he didn’t think about it too hard, he could almost pretend. Cristian would have hated it. Cristian would have called him a bastard for even thinking it. But Cristian had left, and if Felix turned aside Adrien’s comfort, he’d have none at all. After a while, Adrien let his hand fall away. Felix sighed and pushed himself to his feet. Adrien followed him into the kitchen. When Felix started opening cabinets, he asked, “What are you going to do?” “I’m going to take care of this place,” Felix said grimly. “One of us has to.” He pinned Adrien with a look when he started to lower himself onto a stool. “And you’re going to pack.” Adrien froze. His brows furrowed. “I meant what I said. There are plenty of other places to stay in Caceres. Don’t you think you’ve caused enough trouble?” “You’re still drunk,” Adrien said slowly. “Don’t you start on that, too.” He held up his hands, warding Felix off. “You’re drunk, and you’re short a pair of hands. Instead of kicking me out, why not put me to work?” He flashed a smile that would have been charming if he’d been anyone but Adrien Grant. “I’m an actor. I’m good at taking direction.” Felix hesitated longer than he should have, considering it more than was wise. He shouldn’t. If Cristian came back and Adrien was still here, there’d be hell to pay. “Unless you’d rather do it all yourself.” Felix blew out a sharp breath. “Fine.” In this state, he was just 56

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likely to make a mess of it anyway. Cristian had walked away from his responsibilities to this place—who was he to begrudge Felix a little assistance in its upkeep? “Have you ever made bread before?” Adrien shook his head. Of course not. Spoiled rich kid like that, he’d probably had personal chefs from the time he was old enough to eat baby food. “I’ll walk you through it.” Felix waved Adrien into the kitchen and took his place at the counter. “Go wash up.” An hour later, Adrien was covered in flour up to his elbows and Felix was growing distressingly sober, but the bread was tucked away safely in a bowl to rise. Felix pressed his fingers to his throbbing temples as Adrien washed his hands in the sink. “Felix?” He lifted his head, resenting Adrien for demanding his attention when all he wanted was oblivion. “He’s coming back, isn’t he?” “Cristian?” Felix squeezed his eyes shut and pressed hard against his temples. “He owns this place, not me. He has to come back eventually.” Adrien made a frustrated, wordless sound and turned the water off. “If I could just talk to him—” “That’s not a good idea.” “But he’s so upset with you, and it’s my fault. I could hear him yelling from all the way downstairs.” Adrien’s voice drew nearer. Felix pried his eyes open again. Adrien carried a dripping sponge and used it to begin scrubbing the flour and dough off the counter. “We’ve had rough patches before.” But nothing like this. They’d never had to deal with Adrien Grant himself standing in the middle of their kitchen, whirling everything into a storm around him. “He’ll be fine when he gets back.” 57

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“Fine?” Adrien paused his scrubbing and frowned at Felix. He could read doubt plain as day on Adrien’s face. “For varying degrees of fine, anyway.” He wouldn’t yell. He wouldn’t rage. He would be as cold and aloof as an iceberg, making up for his brief loss of self-control with an iron will and a stony facade. Felix liked the shouting better, but there was no telling him that. As far as Cristian was concerned, his self-control and Adrien’s lack of it was the defining difference between them. And Cristian ruthlessly excised any trait he felt he might have inherited from Adrien. He’s going to come back, he told himself. He always comes back. Felix laid his head in his arms, letting the darkness wrap around him, and hoped that he hadn’t made the biggest mistake of his life in letting Cristian leave.

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CHAPTER 4 Their bedroom door stood open a crack. Cristian hesitated, his fingertips resting against the wood paneling. A light shone from within, and every few minutes, the quiet rustle of paper. Felix often read for a while after they’d retired to bed, but not this late. Was he waiting up for Cristian? He’d almost have preferred to find Felix asleep. He could have slipped into bed unnoticed, then. And maybe, in sleep, Felix would have forgotten their fight, and rolled in close against him. It would have been nice, at least until morning brought the inevitable confrontation. He pushed the door open on silent hinges, leaning against the frame. Felix glanced up from his book, but didn’t smile. Something uncertain lingered in his gaze, pulling his brows 59

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together into a faint frown. “You made bread,” Cristian said. Felix drew his knees up and stretched his arms out over them. “It needed to be made.” “And lunch for tomorrow—” “It’s done. Don’t worry about it.” Guilt knifed through him. It was his place, as Felix so readily pointed out. His responsibility. Felix didn’t need to work, and he didn’t care to be volunteered for it. But he’d done it anyway, in Cristian’s absence. “You didn’t have to,” he said on a rush. “I would have.” Felix pulled the covers aside, making room, and patted the space next to him on the bed. “Come here,” he said softly. “I want to talk.” Cristian crossed the room and slid into the spot beside him. He tried to lean in against him, but Felix held him back, and when Cristian turned to him to ask why, Felix took his face in his hands and looked at him intently. “I love you.” Cristian started to speak, but Felix tightened his hands, silencing him. “Not Adrien Grant. You.” He turned to face Cristian directly and rolled onto his knees. “I’m sorry for what happened this morning. You’ve no idea. The last thing I want is to hurt you.” His thumbs brushed over the skin by the corners of Cristian’s eyes, a sweet, gentle caress. “I was expecting him to be like all the trash mags say. Like you say. All swagger and arrogance and pride. But he wasn’t like that at all, and I—” Felix hesitated, in the same instant that Cristian tensed, expecting him to say, I thought he was you. He couldn’t have borne that, not now. But when Felix continued, what he said was, “I was confused. And I’m very sorry. 60

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I love you, Cristy.” Cristian leaned his brow in against Felix’s. There were a hundred things he could have said, most of them petty or awful. But he was better than that. He had to be. They’d only lead to another fight, anyway, and he didn’t want that. He liked the feel of Felix’s hands on his face, his closeness, the way he looked into Cristian’s gaze and just waited, without breaking away the way most people would. Cristian angled his head, found Felix’s mouth with his. Felix’s breath stuttered against his lips, warm and tasting of coffee. Cristian brought his hands up to curve against the back of Felix’s head and kissed him, working his tongue along Felix’s lips until he opened for him. Felix’s kisses were reserved, like he was unsure about his welcome. But Cristian didn’t want reservation or gentleness. Anger still smoldered within him, and possessiveness rose up to join it, mingling in his breast and leaving no room for patience. He slid his hands through Felix’s hair and worked his mouth open wider, swept his tongue in to claim it with a greedy kiss. Felix made a small sound against his lips. He pulled his hands away from Cristian’s face, slid his arms around his back and shoulders and grabbed fistfuls of Cristian’s shirt. Cristian broke away so he could pull it off, then grabbed the hem of Felix’s shirt and tugged it up. Felix broke away when Cristian struggled with it. He tore the shirt away and pressed in again. When he caught Cristian’s mouth in another kiss, it was as hungry as Cristian’s had been. “Cristian,” he groaned, dragging his hands over Cristian’s chest. His fingers found Cristian’s nipples, rubbed them until Cristian caught his breath and pressed his hips to Felix’s. “I think 61

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you’re beautiful, but I don’t care who you look like. I want you, not Adrien Grant.” He gave a short, breathless laugh and shook his head as he worked Cristian’s fly open. “He’s completely inept, do you know? He made a mess all over your kitchen that I had to clean up, and he ended up covered in flour. He can’t even crack eggs, Cristy.” Felix pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking down at him. “How can you think I’m with you just as a substitute for him? I’d have to babysit him all day long. He’d probably set the place on fire if he tried to cook a meal himself. He tried to broil the bread, can you believe it?” Cristian’s brows furrowed. He tightened his hands on Felix, trying to drag him down so he would stop holding himself up on his arms, so Cristian could reach him to kiss him and silence all this talk of Adrien. Felix pulled back against him, making Cristian tighten his grip. He made a low, humming sound of pleasure. “You let him in my kitchen?” “There was all that baking to do. I needed help, and you were gone.” Cristian’s breath hissed out of his lungs. “So you just replaced me with him, in my absence.” Felix sat up and moved off of him, his lips tight with irritation. “It wasn’t like that at all.” Cristian gave a sharp sigh, unconvinced. Angry words rose up in him, pressed at his lips. But they’d already had one fight today, and he’d have much rather preferred that things continued on in the way they’d been heading before Felix brought Adrien into it. He sat up and reached for Felix, dragged him in again. Felix stiffened with surprise, but then relaxed into his embrace. Cristian drew his hands down Felix’s back, curved them over the rounded 62

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muscles of his ass and hauled Felix’s hips against his. The heat of arousal shot through him. It was a different sort of fire than the anger that burned earlier, and much more desirable. He gave a single, sharp thrust, rubbing against Felix through their pants, just to stoke it higher. Felix pushed Cristian’s pants down off his hips. His underwear followed. Cristian moved back on the bed, sitting down so he could push them off completely. He’d barely gotten both legs out of his pants before Felix was sliding forward, kneeling between his legs and kissing him again. He hooked one arm around the back of Cristian’s neck, slid his other hand down Cristian’s stomach to his cock. Cristian moaned and dropped his head back against the headboard. Felix’s fist circled his cock and stroked over it, a steady rhythm that made Cristian’s breath catch and release. Felix bent and sucked at his throat, hard enough he might leave a mark, but Cristian didn’t care. “I do think you’re being a little too hard on him,” Felix murmured against his skin, and tightened his grip on Cristian’s cock. The next stroke made him gasp and rise up off the bed. “What?” Cristian frowned and tried to push Felix back. “You mean Adrien? God!” “Yeah. Adrien.” Felix’s thumb swept over the head of his cock, dragging through the drops of fluid gathered at its tip. “He was just a baby when you were born, you know. He didn’t clone you.” “Damn it.” Cristian bristled. Felix stroked him again, running a thumb along the flared edge of his cock’s head in a way he knew drove Cristian crazy. Cristian sucked air through his teeth and thrust against Felix’s grip unthinking, but he also growled and reached down to still his hand. “If I wanted to talk about Adrien 63

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Grant, I’d have stayed out there.” He gestured toward the bedroom window. Felix seemed to understand that he meant the city beyond it, where everyone knew who Adrien Grant was and would never let him forget it. “Mm.” Felix bent and dragged the flat of his tongue over Cristian’s nipple. “It’s not his fault he’s Stephen Grant’s son, either. I doubt he’d have been able to stay out of the limelight if he tried.” “Well, he didn’t exactly try, did he?” Cristian shoved Felix away. Felix lost his balance and rolled over onto his back. Before he could straighten, Cristian flipped over and pinned the other man beneath his weight. “For God’s sake, just shut up about him, will you? Bad enough he’s everywhere else, I don’t want him working his way into my bedroom, too.” “Are you kidding?” Felix’s grin flashed. “This is the most enthusiastic you’ve been about sex in ages. You’ve been so closedoff lately. I like you like this.” He twisted beneath Cristian, pressing into the hands that restrained him. Cristian scowled and gave a low, grumbling growl in the back of his throat. He tightened his hands and bit at the slope of Felix’s shoulder. Felix just gave another breathless laugh and tugged Cristian closer. “You should’ve seen him, Cristian. He got himself covered in flour, so he was white all over. And then he was in the shower for nearly an hour trying to wash it all out. I think I still saw bits of it turned to glue in his eyebrows, when he headed out.” “Goddamn it.” Cristian grabbed him by the back of the neck, thumbs along his jaw tilting his head back. “If you won’t stop talking about that man, I’ll find a way to shut you up.” Felix looked up at him. His pulse pounded beneath Cristian’s 64

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fingertips. Felix caught his eye and held it for a moment, drew a deep breath and said, “Really, Cristian, he’s not as bad as you’ve made him out to be all this time. You might even like him, if you gave him a chance.” That was too much. Cristian growled and moved back, drawing Felix with him, up onto his knees. He kept his hand curved around the back of Felix’s neck, pulled him down as soon as he had his knees underneath him. Felix followed his direction almost eagerly, bending and parting to take him. Cristian flexed his hips, thrusting past Felix’s lips into the wet heat of his mouth. Felix sucked at the head of his cock, dragging his tongue over the glans, toying with the slit at its crown with the tip of his tongue. He started to work more of Cristian into his mouth by slow, excruciating degrees. Cristian fisted his hand in the hair at the back of Felix’s head and tugged him down faster, at the same time that he thrust his hips forward. Felix made a sharp, startled sound and spread one hand on Cristian’s stomach. He didn’t press Cristian back or try to draw away, and other than that one brief noise, he gave no other sign of protest. His lips slid along Cristian’s shaft. He breathed through his nose, trying to work Cristian deeper. Still not enough to satisfy the heat burning like an ember in Cristian’s chest. It might have been anger or desire, either one, but it had ceased to matter. He’d gotten Felix to stop talking like he’d wanted, and now what he wanted was the feel of Felix’s mouth surrounding him, swallowing all of him. He nudged forward, worked himself deeper. Felix shut his eyes and curled the hand on Cristian’s stomach into a fist, but he still didn’t stop, or try to make Cristian do so. Cristian thrust again, a little sharper, a little deeper. He clenched his fingers in Felix’s hair 65

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and pulled him forward to meet it. Felix made a low sound that Cristian could feel vibrating all around him. He drew his tongue along the underside of Cristian’s cock, drew back against Cristian’s grip on his hair to suck at the head again. Cristian groaned and tightened his hold, thrust into Felix’s mouth so that he swallowed nearly Cristian’s whole length in one smooth motion. Felix’s eyes flew open again, slid up Cristian’s body to meet his gaze. “Fuck,” Cristian groaned. “God. You feel so good.” Felix didn’t answer, just kept his gaze locked on Cristian’s. And when Cristian rocked back and fucked into his mouth again, he swallowed every inch Cristian gave him. Heat spread out across his skin with every thrust. Felix’s mouth was slick and hot, and he knew that if he flicked his tongue across the tip of Cristian’s cock when he drew back, it would make Cristian suck in his breath and fuck into him harder, deeper. Felix licked and sucked at him every time Cristian paused at the end of each thrust. He slid one hand between Cristian’s thighs and cupped his balls in his palm. His fingers drew spirals around Cristian’s testicles, firm enough that Cristian shuddered as another jolt of heat ran up his spine. He kept waiting for Felix to draw back or stop him, but he never did. It felt amazing, the whole of his cock enveloped in Felix’s mouth. He wanted to hold his head still and fuck his mouth until he came, wanted to pour himself down Felix’s throat. But then it would be over, and Felix would probably start right up talking again. Just the thought made Cristian growl with displeasure. He slid back abruptly. Felix tried to follow him, but Cristian held him off. 66

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The caress of the air on his cock was almost a torture, made him want to sink into Felix’s warmth again. But Felix was already frowning and drawing a breath to speak. Cristian pushed him onto his back before he could, climbed up over him and claimed his mouth in a needy kiss, so he’d forget all about conversation. Felix hooked a leg over Cristian’s hips and thrust up against him. He was still only half-undressed, his jeans hanging off his hips. Cristian pushed himself up and tore them off without breaking away from the kiss. Felix wriggled beneath him, helping him get them off. When Cristian had tossed them aside, he wrapped both legs around Cristian’s hips and dragged him down. Their cocks slid against one another’s with delicious friction. Felix let out a long, unsteady breath and arched up again. Cristian tilted Felix’s head back and kissed him hard as he moved above him, grinding his hips down against Felix’s. His sounds of pleasure were swallowed by their kiss, lost in it. Cristian broke away and held himself up on one elbow, looking down into Felix’s face while he worked his hand between their bodies and closed his fingers around Felix’s cock. Felix inhaled sharply when Cristian took him in his hand. Cristian stroked him, fast and hard. He bowed up off the bed, into Cristian’s grip, and cried out. Cristian took fierce pleasure in watching him twist beneath him, needy and wanting. His face was flushed, and when he blinked his eyes open and looked up at Cristian, his gaze was fierce with desire. Cristian rolled away and groped in the drawer of their nightstand. Felix pushed himself up on one elbow to watch while he fumbled through the contents until he found the bottle of lube they kept there. The corners of his eyes creased with a smile when 67

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Cristian turned back with it. He hooked an arm around Cristian’s waist and kissed him. Cristian kissed him back, slowly letting his hunger get the better of him, until he was nipping at Felix’s lips and growling against his mouth. Felix climbed into his lap, letting his hands roam. One slid up to pinch Cristian’s nipple between his fingers, the other down, around to the back of his waist, fingers delving between Cristian’s cheeks. Cristian groaned as Felix brushed his touch over his anus, teasing. It felt wonderful, but the longer he allowed it, the more aggressive Felix became, and that wasn’t the sort of satisfaction he wanted. He broke away, and pushed Felix down beneath him. Felix reached for him, but Cristian caught his hand and turned it palm-up before him. He flipped the cap on the bottle of lube open with his thumb and squeezed a puddle into Felix’s palm. Heat kindled in Felix’s eyes as he reached and stroked Cristian’s cock, slicking it with the lube. Cristian groaned and shut his eyes, his hand fisting in the sheets. He thrust into Felix’s slippery hold, wishing it was more. While Felix pumped his hand over Cristian’s cock, Cristian squirted more lube onto his own fingertips. He set the bottle aside and nudged Felix’s legs wider with his knee. Felix bent his knees and angled his hips up. He bit at his lower lip when Cristian reached down and slid the lube between his cheeks. Cristian kept his gaze on Felix’s face, watching his reaction flicker through his expression as Cristian stroked and found the bud of his anus. Felix moaned and lifted his hips, rising up into Cristian’s touch. His hand tightened on Cristian’s cock, stroking faster. Cristian 68

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worked his finger into Felix’s ass, urging him open. Felix bit back a moan and pushed his hips up sharply, driving Cristian deeper. The lube made everything slick and easy, and the feel of Felix’s muscles clenching around his finger made Cristian want to sink right into him, all the way. Felix gave another groan and pulled at Cristian, as though he wanted the same thing. When Felix had taken his finger all the way to the last knuckle, Cristian worked a second one in beside it. The noises that Felix made changed in pitch, rising sharper and more urgent. He pulled roughly at Cristian’s cock, his other hand buried and twisting in the blankets. Cristian worked his fingers in deep, stretching Felix open. He rocked them out, then in again, thrusting sharply into Felix’s ass. Felix moaned and tightened around him in response. His hands tightened, white-knuckled, on the blankets. Hunger shot through Cristian at the way Felix sucked his lower lip into his mouth, then caught it between his teeth and dragged at it. It made Cristian want to kiss him again, or draw him back up onto his knees to finish the blow job. But then he sank his fingers in again and Felix cried out, arching up off the bed, and everything else was swamped by Cristian’s need to bury himself in him, as hard and deep as he could stand. Felix opened his eyes, looked up through a heavy-lidded gaze at Cristian. His hand still worked over Cristian’s cock, pumping steadily. He wrapped his other hand around his own cock and jerked himself off as well, a matching rhythm that Cristian could feel in the way Felix’s muscles rippled and tightened around him every time Felix’s palm dragged over the head of his cock. Cristian drove his fingers in harder, wanting to see if he could break Felix’s rhythm. He found Felix’s prostate and stroked it 69

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firmly. Felix’s eyes shot open. He groaned and stroked his cock faster, clamping down hard around Cristian’s fingers. He stared up at Cristian all the while, his gaze intent, almost challenging. When Cristian reached down and touched the back of his hand to stop him, Felix knocked his hand away. “Fuck me, Cristy.” Cristian grabbed him by the wrist and pulled his hand away. Felix made a low sound of frustration and jerked against his hold, but he stopped when Cristian dragged his legs up and fit the head of his cock against Felix’s entrance. Felix’s hand curled into a fist on the air. He locked his gaze on Cristian’s, sucked on his lip again. Cristian bore down against the resistance, sinking into him, whole inches at a time. Felix sucked a sharp breath through his teeth and grunted, twisted his wrist within Cristian’s grasp and grabbed on to his hand. He jerked against it, pulling Cristian so he tipped forward, lost his balance and had to catch himself with one hand braced against the mattress. The movement forced him deeper into Felix, and brought Cristian down over him so that they were close enough he could feel Felix’s breath on his face. Felix rose up swiftly and caught Cristian’s mouth. With a low, victorious growl, he slid his tongue past Cristian’s lips, swept it through his mouth. Cristian shut his eyes and lost himself in the feel of Felix’s kiss. Felix kissed him like he was claiming him, like he was the one on top. Cristian curved his hand around the back of Felix’s neck and thrust into his mouth, rocked his hips and thrust deeper into his ass. Felix moaned and bit at Cristian’s lips. He had one hand spread on Cristian’s chest, just over his heart. He pushed at Cristian with 70

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it, like he meant to shove him back, or off. Cristian reacted without thought, growling and driving forward. Felix shuddered as he locked their hips together, buried in him completely. Cristian rocked out and drove into him again. Felix’s breath caught, then unraveled on a moan. He twisted beneath Cristian, straining. Cristian reached down and stroked his cock just to hear him moan again. He withdrew, drove in again, hard, so fire flashed against his eyelids and Felix made another choked, beautiful sound. Cristian couldn’t help himself. He held himself up on his arm and stared down at Felix as he fucked him, pounding into him as Cristian’s whole body tightened and strained toward release. Watching Felix only made it worse, the way he twisted when Cristian buried himself in him, the way his strokes on his cock grew faster and more frantic every time Cristian withdrew. Cristian spoke his name roughly, ground out between strokes in a moment when he could catch his breath. Felix blinked his eyes open, stared up at Cristian. Cristian drove into him hard and watched Felix’s eyes go wide. Every touch and stroke was reflected in his gaze. Cristian drove into him again so he could see it again. Felix’s breath began to hitch and stutter before Cristian was ready for it to be over. He caught Felix’s hand and pulled it away from his cock again. Felix snarled in protest and wrenched against him, until Cristian curled his fingers into Felix’s hip and fucked into him, quick, driving strokes that turned Felix’s protests into a needy sound, begging Cristian for more. Cristian lowered himself over Felix and kissed him greedily. Sweat gathered on his skin and slipped down his spine. He curled his hands into Felix’s hair and drove himself harder, gasping 71

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against his mouth. Felix dragged his hands down Cristian’s back, and even that made him shudder. Felix’s breath hitched, catching in his chest and then breaking loose with a low moan. He thrust his hips up to meet each stroke, making sharp, hungry noises that made Cristian’s head spine. Cristian curled his fingers tighter around Felix’s cock and pumped faster, until Felix gave a sharp gasp and his body quivered like a bowstring beneath Cristian’s. He shuddered, jerked his hips up against Cristian’s, and spurted semen into Cristian’s hand and across his own stomach. His muscles clamped down hard around Cristian, trembling as the orgasm worked through him. The last remnants of control slipped from Cristian’s grip at the sight of Felix’s climax. He grabbed him roughly by the hips and thumped into him, hard, quick strokes, pursuing the fire that was building beneath his skin. It came on him with a sudden intensity, a tingling rush that built until it felt like every nerve ending had been lit up. He locked his hips against Felix’s, buried to the hilt, and groaned wildly as he emptied himself into him. Felix drew a long, unsteady breath and slid his palm over Cristian’s cheek. When Cristian opened his eyes, Felix was looking up at him. His eyes were still dark and unfocused, his pupils blown. He slid his hand up through the sweat on Cristian’s back to curve around his neck, tugged him down. Cristian slid off to the side at the last moment, lying down beside Felix, but pressed in close against him. Felix turned his head to look at him. He didn’t say anything, just shifted around on the bed and pushed Cristian down onto his back so Felix could lay his head on his shoulder. As they lay together, catching their breath and sweat slowly 72

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cooling on Cristian’s skin, tension crept through him. The weight of Felix’s head on his shoulder was pleasant, his body warm where he leaned in against Cristian. But the silence between them seemed to grow heavier the longer it lasted. Cristian shut his eyes, knowing that Felix was going to break it and that when he did, Cristian would be apt to say something thoughtless again, and the pleasantness of this moment would be ruined. Cristian didn’t think he could bear it if Felix mentioned Adrien again. Not now. Not when they were both still flushed from fucking, and shouldn’t have been thinking about anyone else in the world but one another. Felix shifted, settling in closer against him. He raised his head from Cristian’s shoulder. Cristian tensed, waiting, wishing he could have just a few more minutes to enjoy lying there. Felix kissed him firmly on the lips, and when he spoke, all he said was, “I love you, Cristy,” and lay his head back down again. Cristian shut his eyes tight and wrapped his arms around Felix’s back. He held him hard. A wave of relief and gratitude swept through him. “I love you, too.” *

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Felix didn’t mention throwing him out again, once Adrien had finished helping him with the bread. He wasn’t sure whether it was gratitude or the slow slide from intoxicated to hungover, but he figured either way, he’d better make himself scarce before Felix recalled himself, or changed his mind again. He hadn’t made an itinerary, beyond booking the tickets and the room. His sole priority had been getting as far away as possible before he tried the last of Amber’s patience and she wrung his neck. He took advantage of it now, wandering through the quaint 73

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little town in the fading evening light. He found a small bakery, lured by the smell of fresh bread and his disappointment that he hadn’t even lingered long enough to taste the fruits of his labor. A bell over the door rang as he stepped through. A woman behind the counter slid a large tray of puffy loaves of bread dough into an even larger oven. She turned at the chime, and when she saw Adrien, her face lit up. He nearly fled. But she didn’t say any of the normal things people did when they saw him on the street, didn’t fawn or gush. She beamed at him and said, “Well, hello there,” in rapid Spanish. “We haven’t seen you in a while. What can I get for you?” Adrien’s steps faltered. He stared at her blankly, until he realized. Of course. She thinks you’re Cristian. Relief nearly swamped him. But she was still looking at him, her smile fading to puzzlement by slow degrees the longer he took to answer her. He could tell her the truth, that he wasn’t Cristian at all and he didn’t know her. But then word might get out where he was and the press would show up and he couldn’t bear that either. “Hello,” he stammered, awkward. “Um. What would you recommend?” Her brows furrowed. “Are you feeling all right? You sound a bit off. Under the weather, are you?” He muffled his chagrin with a cough and nodded an affirmative. “You poor dear. I just pulled some honey oat rolls out of the oven, and you know they’re best when they’re hot. I can butter one up for you, if you’d like.” Adrien nodded again and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “Yes, please.” The longer this conversation went on, the more 74

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awkward he felt. She was bound to realize eventually that there was more wrong than just a passing cold could explain. Don’t you learn? You’ve already played this trick once today, and caught hell for it. Honestly, Grant, if people knew you were such a dunce, they wouldn’t be half so quick to fawn. She split the roll open and spread a pat of butter inside. Adrien paid her quickly, speaking as little as he could get away with, then took his roll outside to eat. Steam drifted up from the hot roll. It smelled incredible. Adrien opened the roll and tore it in half. The heat of it had melted the butter already. The crust was just a little bit chewy, but the bread within was soft and fluffy, wonderfully tender. Adrien ate half the roll before he’d even realized it, and then it was an effort to pause long enough to suck the butter from his fingers. When he’d finished, he wiped his hands on the napkin and brushed the crumbs from the table. He crumpled the napkin up, threw it away, and continued down the street to see what else the town held in store for him, though it took a force of will. He hadn’t had dinner yet, and the aroma of the bakery called to him like a siren’s song. The farther he walked, the more he came to realize that the case of mistaken identity with the girl in the bakery wasn’t an isolated incident. It seemed like he couldn’t cross a street or turn a corner without someone smiling or waving to him like he was an old friend. He tried to hurry on whenever it happened, before anyone else could try to strike up a conversation with him. But he’d already done enough to upset Cristian; it didn’t seem right to insult his friends, too, by refusing to so much as smile in greeting when they waved at him. Not when they thought he was Cristian, and Cristian 75

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would have to answer for his rudeness. He spent the evening exploring the town, and ate a late supper at a small cafe where his waiter didn’t seem to already know him, thank God. As the sun sank behind the rooftops and the sky darkened to cobalt and black, Adrien considered returning to the house. The thought didn’t hold much appeal, not when returning might mean another encounter with Cristian. If Adrien chased him off again, he really would get kicked out. But Cristian seemed to take offense at Adrien’s very presence, and he didn’t know what was to be done about that but to just stay away. Christ. Adrien scrubbed one hand over his brow. All he had wanted was a vacation. How had he ended up in such a screwed up situation? “I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself. Surely there was somewhere in the town that would serve him something stronger than a beer. When his waiter came to deliver the check, Adrien asked him, “I don’t suppose this place has much of a nightlife, does it?” “Try the plaza,” the waiter suggested. “There are a few clubs down there. Maybe you can find what you’re looking for.” Adrien thanked him and left cash for the meal. He recalled seeing the plaza on his maps, and he drove until he found it, then wandered along the street, lingering over a decision. He hadn’t wandered long before, up ahead of him, a couple came stumbling out of one of the clubs, laughing and clinging to one another. As Adrien neared, he realized that they were both men, and now that they were steadier on their feet, they walked down the street with one another, hand-in-hand. Clearly an item, at least for the night. 76

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He slipped into the club they’d emerged from and found his suspicions confirmed. It was definitely a gay bar. The music thumped around him as he worked his way to the back. Its rhythm worked its way into him, easing out the tensions he’d carried with him all day. Felix had accused him of being a partier, and that wasn’t entirely undeserved. He certainly knew how to get himself happily buzzed and well on the way to drunk on short notice. He was just starting to feel it, gazing out at the dance floor and considering joining everyone else out there, when someone ran into him from behind. He stumbled and spilled half his drink on the floor, then turned, scowling. The man who’d run into him was backing away, hands up and already apologizing. But when Adrien turned, he broke off abruptly and stared, then grinned. “Cristian!” he cried. Adrien groaned. “Well, it has been far too long. What are you doing here, anyway?” “Getting drunk,” Adrien said bitterly. He glanced out at the dance floor. “And trying to decide if I’ve got enough coordination left to go have a good time without breaking my neck.” The other man laughed, drawing Adrien’s gaze back to him. “But you should know, I’m not—” “Maybe you just need someone to lean on,” he suggested, nearly a purr. He stole into Adrien’s personal space, head tilted to look at him. “Where’s Felix, anyway?” “Not here,” Adrien said. The other man’s brows lifted, and his grin spread. He pressed in against Adrien, like Felix’s absence was tacit permission. Adrien let him. It felt good to have someone’s body pressed in against his, warm and inviting. And what was the point of taking a 77

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vacation if he wasn’t going to enjoy himself? He put his hands on the other man’s waist, holding on to him, and just barely managed to say, “Wait, hold on. You should know, I’m not Cristian.” He rocked back, one brow rising, and looked Adrien over dubiously. “Oh really.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Who are you, then?” Adrien dropped his voice so the whole club wouldn’t hear. “Adrien Grant.” The man’s brows shot up and he laughed, loud enough to turn heads despite the raucous music. “Oh, sure. All right.” He snickered. “I’ll play along. Well, then, Adrien”—another snort of laughter, and he thrust his hand out—“I’m Diego.” Adrien shook his hand uncertainly. There was a glint of laughter in Diego’s eyes as he spoke, and it seemed pretty obvious that he didn’t believe Adrien at all. Adrien sighed sharply. “Look, I know what you must think, but I’m serious. I’m not Cristian.” “Of course not.” Diego moved in again and grinned at him from very close. “Not for tonight anyway, right? You can be anyone you want to be, cariño, I don’t mind.” He caught Adrien’s hand and pulled him away from the bar before Adrien could form another protest. “You said you wanted to dance, didn’t you? I’ll keep you on your feet.” Adrien did want to dance, much more than he wanted to sit there and argue with this man about who he really was. And it was just dancing, right? Where was the harm? Besides, he was far too drunk to try to argue with someone who agreed with him earnestly, but obviously didn’t believe a word of it. He followed Diego onto the dance floor, and let the thump of the music wash away everything else. 78

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On the floor, Diego sidled in closer than Adrien would have expected him to do with a stranger. Closer even than he’d have expected with Cristian, considering he and Felix were clearly committed, and had been for quite some time. Even Adrien knew that, and he’d hardly spent five minutes with the man. Still, Diego’s aggressiveness was appealing. He pressed in with flagrant disregard for personal space, so cheerfully expecting it not to be a problem that Adrien couldn’t find it in himself to make it one. Still, he kept his overtures limited to proximity and the occasional graze of his shoulder against Adrien’s, or his chest on Adrien’s back, until the music changed to a song they could almost speak over without having to shout. “So. Adrien Grant.” Diego raked him with an appraising look. A slow, appreciative smile curved his lips. “All the mags say you’re single.” Adrien nodded. Easier than lifting his voice over the music and the crowd, when a simple gesture would do. Diego’s grin sharpened, almost predatory. “Looking?” Adrien’s brows drew together. He’d come here looking for a good time, not another Jon who thought a night between the sheets was a promise of something more. “I like to keep my options open.” If anything, Diego seemed to take that as encouragement. He pressed in closer, looped his arms around Adrien’s neck. His lips grazed Adrien’s cheek. “Well, you’ve got one option for tonight,” he murmured, close enough to Adrien’s ear that he could hear him. “Any others I should be aware of?” Adrien drew back and gave him a curious look. “I like to know what I’m up against.” Adrien considered him for a moment. He hadn’t come here 79

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with the intention to do anything more than relax, enjoy himself, and kill time until it was late enough he could return to his room without chancing a run-in with Cristian or Felix. He certainly hadn’t intended to go looking for a hook-up, but the idea held some promise. Diego was attractive, and aggressively interested. Adrien found that he enjoyed it. It was refreshing to know that any interest Diego had in him had nothing to do with his name, or his father’s, or the fact that his face was plastered all over vid screens and holo projectors. And if Diego was only interested in him because he thought Adrien was Cristian, well, at least it was something new. Adrien leaned in so Diego could hear him when he said, “You needn’t worry. You’re the best option I’ve seen all night, by far.” Diego’s smile flashed, brilliant in the moment before he jerked Adrien’s mouth to his. Adrien slid his hands through Diego’s hair, kissing him. Diego purred in the back of his throat and wrapped both arms around Adrien. He slid one hand down to curve into Adrien’s ass and hauled his hips against Diego’s. His pants clung tight to his hips and left no doubt at all about his interest. “Still interested in having a good time?” Diego asked him. Adrien nodded, skimming his hands down over Diego’s waist. His smile turned suggestive. “Still interested in dancing?” Adrien slid one hand up Diego’s back, drawing him in with a firm touch. “Less interested by the minute.” Diego broke away abruptly. He grabbed Adrien by the hand and pulled him across the dance floor, toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.” Adrien didn’t protest. He let himself be led, outside into the night. He let Diego guide him, and tilted his head back to look up. 80

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The stars were much brighter here than they were in LA, thicker. A sickle moon shone onto the town, limning the rooftops in silver. Diego pulled on his hand and, with his head tilted back, Adrien stumbled a little. He straightened, looked where he was going as Diego laughed at him. “You’re drunker than I thought, cariño. Come on, we’ll take my car. I’m definitely not letting you drive me anywhere when you can’t even keep your feet under you,” “I’m not that drunk.” But he certainly wasn’t sober, so he didn’t protest when Diego unlocked his car and pushed Adrien into the passenger seat. He fumbled with his seat belt while Diego circled around and got behind the wheel. “Where to?” “I’ve got a room—” Diego interrupted him with another laugh. “A room? Yeah, you’ve got a whole house full of them. All right, we can do this at your place.” He put the car into gear and reversed out of the parking space. Adrien watched the town slide by while Diego drove, trying not to think too hard about what they were doing. If he let his brain get involved, it would just ruin it, and he’d been enjoying himself with Diego. There wasn’t any harm in continuing to enjoy themselves for a little while longer, was there? Diego stopped the car in the lot when they reached the bedand-breakfast. While Adrien tried to get his fingers to work the seat belt release, Diego stared up at the darkened house, and then turned to fix his stare on Adrien. “Just how much have you had to drink tonight, anyway?” “Enough,” Adrien mumbled, distracted. He bent low, trying to find the catch and figure out why it wouldn’t release for him. 81

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“Cristian.” A sudden note of strain in Diego’s voice caught his attention. “Just where is Felix, anyway?” Adrien started to raise his head to remind Diego who he was, but the question made him stop. “Felix?” He peered through the car’s windshield at the house. All the lights inside were off, near as he could tell. “I don’t know. What time is it? It’s late. I’m sure he’s up in bed by now.” “He’s here?” Diego whipped around to stare at Adrien. “Jesus Christ. And you brought us back here? Are you crazy? He’ll kill me.” “You don’t understand. I’m not Cristian. My name is—” “Right, of course.” Diego snorted and hit a button to unlock the car’s doors. “Go to bed, Cristian. Sleep it off. I’m not fucking you in your own house while Felix is sleeping just down the hall. I value my life too much for that.” “But—” Diego gave him a hard look. “If you ever decide you’re serious about hooking up, you’ve got my number.” Adrien finally managed to get the seat belt unbuckled. He threw the door open and climbed out of the car. “Fine. Don’t believe me. Whatever.” Diego sped away as soon as Adrien swung the door shut behind him. Adrien sighed and scrubbed his hands through his hair, then let himself into the house and climbed the stairs to his room. Frustration with Diego’s refusal to believe him mingled with sexual frustration and left him sprawled on his back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It would have been nice to have had company, even if just until morning. 82

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CHAPTER 5 Cristian hesitated before the door to Adrien’s room, his arms crossed over his chest and scowling as though Adrien might feel the heat of his glare through the wood. It was nearly noon. Cristian found it unfathomable that Adrien was still in bed, when he and Felix had already been up for hours and gotten a good deal of work in, besides. I suppose that’s what comes of being a spoiled celebrity. The thought only deepened his scowl. He took fierce pleasure in pounding his fist on the door. It would serve the lazy sod right if it startled him awake. He had to knock twice before the lock rasped open. He’d thought it proof that Adrien had still been lazing about in bed until Cristian disturbed him. But the door swung open, revealing Adrien standing before him, fresh-faced and dripping water. He wore 83

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nothing but the towel slung about his waist. It rode low on his hips, Cristian noticed with displeasure, the way it might if he were posing for some sort of photo shoot. As though it had been carefully and painstakingly arranged to fall in a way that made the most of his physique. “Yes?” Adrien asked, his tone guarded. Cristian jerked his gaze up to meet Adrien’s and saw wariness there, too. He started to speak, but as soon as he did, all the words dried up on his tongue. With any other guest, it would have been simple, the words so practiced they’d have practically fallen from him unbidden. Hello, I hope you slept well, I’ve just come to change the sheets and make the bed for you. But he couldn’t make himself speak those words now, not to Adrien Grant. The last thing he wanted was to do work for the man. He could sleep on the same sheets his entire stay, for all Cristian cared. “Did you need something?” Adrien arched one brow when the silence had gone on too long. Cristian drew himself up. “I just came to ask if you wanted fresh towels,” he said, resenting every word. He raked his gaze over Adrien again, only barely managed not to sneer. “But I can see you’re still using yours.” “Well, I’m just about done. Come on in.” Adrien turned away from the door and walked across the room. “I’ll just put some clothes on and you can have it.” His words were perfectly pleasant, but even that goaded Cristian. He said it so casually, like he just expected Cristian to wait on him, and be happy to do so. Cristian’s hands curled at his sides. He glared at Adrien’s back so hard it seemed impossible he could ignore it. Rage boiled up 84

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within him again. It didn’t help at all that the man looked like a fucking god. They both had the same genetic code, they should have looked the same, shouldn’t they? But no, of course he looked like he’d just stepped off of some swimsuit calendar as he strode across the room, tanned and golden and perfect. Cristian was fit and strong, and he’d never had reason to doubt himself, but Adrien made him look like a rough draft. If Cristian spent every day for the rest of his life lifting weights in a gym, maybe he’d be that ripped. Probably not. It was probably something inherent in him that Cristian had missed out on. Fame and money and good looks all flocked to him like it was the natural order of things. Cristian worked to stay in shape, but Adrien made him look like a sloth in comparison. When Adrien reached for the edge of his towel like he meant to take it off right there, standing next to the bed with no concern at all for the fact that Cristian was in the room with him, Cristian groaned and threw up his hands. “For God’s sake, is that necessary?” If he was forced to witness just how good Adrien looked naked, he’d lose it for sure. Adrien turned to look at Cristian, his brows furrowing. “Sorry?” “Just because we share a genetic sequence doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be boundaries.” Adrien’s expression cleared, but it didn’t become any happier. He faced Cristian squarely, arms crossing over his incredibly welldefined chest. “All right, let’s get something straight here. How old are you, anyway?” Cristian rocked back on his heels, startled by the question. “What?” 85

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“How old are you?” Adrien looked him over with a critical gaze. “Twenty-four? Maybe?” When Cristian didn’t answer, he continued on. “I was two years old when you were born. I don’t understand why it’s such a problem for you, but whatever it is, it’s not my fault. So stop biting my head off every time I dare to be in the same room as you. If you don’t want me here, just say the word.” The temptation was nearly irresistible. The words rose up within him like a tide. Yes, please, get out of here, just leave us alone. But the anger rose in him, too, and it didn’t want him to leave. Not yet. Not until Cristian had had a chance to speak his piece. “You don’t know why it’s a problem?” He slammed the door closed and strode forward. “Of course, you wouldn’t. You’re not the one who’s spent his entire life living in a stranger’s shadow. You’re not the one who’s had to deal, every day of his life, with people’s faces lighting up when they see you, only to turn crestfallen when you tell them the truth, because the person they actually wanted was someone else. No, you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? Everyone wants you, and I’m sure you had nannies and servants and who-knows-what waiting on you since the day you were born. You can’t even cook your own damn bread, but you’re living a life of luxury and ease because you’ve got a pretty face and a famous dad.” Cristian came toe-to-toe with him, glaring, so furious he shook. “Well, I’ve got both those things. I’ve got exactly what you do, and what has it gotten me? Twenty-four years of pinching pennies just so I could buy this place, and then endless days of working my ass off to keep it running. So go fuck yourself, asshole. You don’t know a damn thing about me or my problems.” 86

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Adrien’s brows lowered. His jaw hardened. “You think so?” he asked, deadly soft. “Well, newsflash, Cristian. You don’t know anything about my life, either, and if you did, you wouldn’t envy it. Sure, I’ve got money. I don’t have to worry about keeping a roof over my head. But I also can’t step foot outside my door without a dozen people shoving cameras in my face. Every move I make is instantly on the Net for millions of people to scrutinize and criticize. Have you ever had a stalker?” Cristian drew breath to answer, but Adrien kept right on talking without waiting for a response. “Because I have, and it’s awful. You have a home and a business and a place in this community, with people who like you for exactly who you are. You have Felix, who loves you. I don’t have anyone.” His hand clenched at his side. “Nobody loves me like that. Nobody cares about me beyond how many millions they sank into my last vid, or how I can advance their career. You’ve got a nice life here, Cristian, and you shouldn’t be so quick to envy mine.” “You’re wrong,” Cristian snarled, outrage twisting beneath his breastbone. “I have to fight every day to get people to treat me like I’m any other person, and not you. I don’t have a place here. Everywhere I go, people are whispering about you. If they like me, it’s only because I look like you.” Adrien stared at him for a long moment, then laughed. He shook his head. “You’re completely wrong about that, and I know it. I walked around this town yesterday, I saw it for myself. Everywhere I went, people were friendly and warm and welcoming, because they thought I was you. You have friends here, and if you don’t even realize that, then you’re doing them a disservice.” 87

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Cristian snorted and started to turn away, but Adrien grabbed his arm and wrenched him back. “I’m serious. I don’t know how you can’t see it. The girl at the bakery was very happy to see you, you know. And trust me, it wasn’t my pants Diego was wanting to get into last night.” Venomous words poised on the tip of Cristian’s tongue, a snarled demand that Adrien get his hands off of him, but what he’d said made Cristian swallow them all down. “What did you say?” “Diego?” Adrien shrugged. “I didn’t get a last name, but you two sure seemed to know one another. And trust me, he’s very interested.” “No.” Cristian made a dismissive gesture and shook his head. “Diego knows I’m committed to Felix—” “Oh, he knows.” The corner of Adrien’s mouth turned up. “He just doesn’t care.” “What makes you think you know, anyway?” “We bumped into each other at a club last night. He thought I was you, and made a pass. And don’t you go saying it was because he wanted me. I tried like hell to tell him who I was, and he didn’t believe it for a minute. He wanted you.” Cristian stared at Adrien in consternation and horror. A moment passed, and Adrien shrugged and turned to rifle through his dresser. Finally, Cristian managed to speak. “Please tell me you didn’t fuck him.” Adrien shot him an amused look over his shoulder. “I didn’t. Barely.” His brows lowered. “Though that reminds me. My car’s back at the bar. I’m going to need a ride to pick it up.” He glanced at Cristian, hesitated. “Maybe I’ll ask Felix.” “Christ.” Cristian dragged his hands through his hair. If Diego wanted to get in his pants—and thought he’d very nearly 88

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succeeded… “Goddamn it. You’re ruining everything.” He dropped his hands and glared at Adrien. “And you’re wrong, anyway.” “Am I?” Adrien lifted a brow, cool as you please. He looked vaguely amused by Cristian’s distress, and it just made Cristian want to take a swipe at him and wipe that smirk clean off his face. “About what?” “All of it.” The amusement slid off of Adrien’s expression. “You think so? You think everybody you know is shallow and vapid enough to be friendly to you because you bear a resemblance to a holovid star? Jesus, Cristian. You’re warped. What about Felix? You don’t even trust him?” It felt like an invasion for Adrien to bring Felix into this discussion, just to mention his name. “Whatever Felix is attracted to in me,” he snarled, “whatever it is, it’s something I got from you. I don’t have anything that’s mine. My face, my voice, my body… Every time I think I’ve found something that’s just mine, that you don’t share, it turns out that I was wrong after all. All I am, all I’ve ever been, is a shoddy carbon copy of you.” All the strength went out of Cristian. He brought his hands up to his face, leaned his brow against the heels of his palms, sighed. “Why would Felix want me when he could have the original?” “That’s bullshit.” Adrien’s voice dripped with disdain. Cristian raised his head, startled by it. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t the look of fed-up impatience that Adrien was giving him now. “Felix loves you. You. Not me. We’re not as alike as you think, and he, at least, knows that.” “You know him so well, do you?” Cristian sank down onto the bed and leaned his head in his hands. “You’ve been here all of two 89

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days and suddenly you’re an expert? You don’t know him.” He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, fighting against despair. It was easier to be angry, to hold that fury inside him and let it burn like a wildfire. “Everyone else loves you. Why wouldn’t he choose you, if given half a chance?” “There’s not a chance in hell.” Cristian hated how smugly confident Adrien looked. What right did he have to be so sure of himself? How could he claim to know Felix better than Cristian did? “Felix loves you, and he’d never do anything to hurt you. You could hand me to him on a silver platter and tell him to fuck me, and I still don’t think he’d do it.” “I’ve seen him,” Cristian said harshly. “The way his attention sharpens whenever you’re brought up. He reads about you in the trash mags, for heaven’s sake, but when they’re about anybody else, he’s got nothing but disdain. I know him. You don’t know anything.” Cristian snorted and pushed his hair off his face. “Just like a spoiled holo star, to stroll into a situation you know nothing about and start acting like you’re Albert fucking Einstein. I’ve been with Felix for years. Trust me. I know him.” “Not well enough, apparently,” Adrien muttered, then continued louder, before Cristian could respond. “You don’t believe me? I’ll prove it. I’ll go down there and throw myself at him, and we’ll just see whether he takes me up on it or throws me out on my ass.” He snatched clothes from the drawers of his dresser, quick and choppy, like he was angry. “God knows, my balls are blue enough after last night. Won’t hurt them to get a little bluer. I’m sure Win would say it builds character or something.” He turned to Cristian with his clothes clutched in his hands, raised one eyebrow. “Not that I care one way or the other, but if you don’t want to catch an eyeful, you’d better get out now. I’m getting 90

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dressed.” And he put the clothes on the bed and reached for the edge of the towel. Cristian fled, and shut the door firmly behind him, then stood in the hall just beyond the room with his heart pounding. It was a terrible idea. If Felix took him up on it, it would break something inside Cristian forever. He ought to turn right back around and tell Adrien that if he even thought about making a pass at Felix, then Cristian really would throw him out on his ass. But, a voice whispered, low and seductive in the back of his mind. But… If he allowed this, then at least he’d learn the truth. It wouldn’t matter what Felix insisted. He’d know for sure, finally. He wouldn’t have to doubt. *

*

*

Cristian had been wearing a dark T-shirt and jeans when he’d confronted Adrien in his room, and Adrien didn’t even bother pretending that he chose his own navy shirt and acid-wash jeans for any other reason. If Cristian was going to throw out a challenge like that… Fuck it. Adrien wasn’t inclined to pull his punches. When he was satisfied with his appearance, he went downstairs and strode into the kitchen. Felix glanced up and offered him a tentative smile. “There you are. I thought you were going to sleep the day away.” Adrien came into the kitchen and leaned one hip against the counter. “My car’s stranded back in town, so until I can get someone to take me to pick it up, I’m here to help. How do you want me?” Felix’s brow twitched up, a bemused smile pulling at his 91

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mouth. Adrien shrugged and spread his hands. He turned the smile on even brighter. “I’m all yours.” “That’s really not necessary.” Felix dropped his attention to the flour he was measuring into a bowl. “You’re a guest, not staff. Thank you for your help yesterday, but I really don’t think we should be getting in the habit of it.” “Don’t be silly. You’re not making me help. I want to. I insist.” Adrien came into the kitchen and reached for the bowl in such a way that it brought him in close to Felix, his arm sliding along the other man’s and his chest grazing against Felix’s back. Felix stiffened and frowned at him over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” “Helping.” Adrien took the bowl and tucked it into the curve of his arm. He reached for the measuring scoop Felix had been using and brushed his fingers against Felix’s as he tried to take it. “Give me that.” Felix jerked his hand back from Adrien’s as though he’d touched a brand. Adrien watched, amused, as color rose on his cheeks. Adrien held one hand up like he was taking an oath. “I swear I will not try to broil the bread today. I’ve learned my lesson.” Felix sighed and rubbed his palm over his brow. “Fine. All right. Here.” He slid a laminated sheet of paper over to him. “It’s the same as we did yesterday. Think you can manage that?” Adrien glanced down at the recipe, then back up at Felix. He let a slow smile turn up the corners of his mouth. “I think I can handle it.” Felix took down a new bowl and set himself up at the opposite end of the kitchen. Adrien glanced back at him, gauging the tense 92

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set of his shoulders and the way he threw himself into his work. When Felix glanced back at him, Adrien caught his eye and smiled. Felix jerked his gaze back to his work. Adrien mixed the ingredients for the bread dough, listening to the sounds of Felix working behind him. When it was starting to come together, he glanced at Felix again, then dusted the flour off his hands and went over to where he stood. Felix jumped when Adrien came up behind him. He spun, then pressed back against the counter, straining away from him. “What are you doing?” he demanded. Adrien had to lean in even closer to reach up into the cabinets overhead, and he took advantage of it. Felix wrapped his fingers around the edge of the countertop and gripped so hard his knuckles turned white. “I needed some more flour,” Adrien told him. “For kneading the dough.” Felix let out a long breath. “I’ll get it.” He shouldered Adrien back and turned to get the bag from the cupboard. When he turned around once more, Adrien had taken back the space he’d put between them. Felix’s shoulder bumped his, and he stumbled. He threw a hand out for balance, and it landed in the center of Adrien’s chest, fingers splayed and pressing firmly against him. Color washed across Felix’s face. He snatched his hand back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—” Adrien waited, his brows lifted, for Felix to complete the thought. Felix’s color darkened. “Not that I don’t— I mean.” He rubbed his palm on his thigh. “Never mind.” He turned away again, muttering beneath his breath, “Hell, I sound moronic. It’s not like you don’t know you’re attractive. You’ve been at the top of Galaxy’s Sexiest Men Alive lists for the past five years running.” 93

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Adrien grinned at Felix’s back. “You’ve been paying attention?” Felix froze, then snapped his head around, frowning. “They plaster it everywhere when it comes out. It’s hard to avoid.” Adrien laughed and carried the bag of flour back to his counter. As he kneaded the dough, his mind stayed focused on Felix behind him and the quiet sounds as he worked, the way they would occasionally silence completely for a few moments, and then resume again too quickly. Adrien ducked his head and smiled a little to himself. He was starting to realize that he was enjoying this, when it had all started out of irritation. But he’d spent enough time with Felix the past few days to know that he enjoyed his company, that the other man was smart and funny, and attractive besides. It was all too easy to understand what Cristian might see in the man. He let his thoughts wander as he kneaded the dough, until Felix interrupted him with a curt, “That’s probably done by now.” Adrien drew himself back to the present. He turned and considered Felix for a moment. “I forgot how to tell. Can you show me again?” Felix gave him a hard stare. When Adrien didn’t relent, he dusted his hands off on a towel, then sighed and came over. “Here, you take a piece off, like this—” He tore a piece of dough off of the rest and rolled it into a ball between his palms, then flattened it to a disc. “And you stretch it out. See?” He showed Adrien as he gradually worked the disc wider, then stretched it out between his hands so that it formed a thin film, translucent enough for the light to shine through. “If it breaks, then it’s not done yet.” “I see.” Adrien echoed Felix’s motions, tearing off his own ball and flattening it. To stretch it out, he moved so that he stood 94

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directly behind Felix, his arms on either side, and held the dough up to the light so they could both see it glowing through the film. Tension ran down Felix’s spine as the position brought Adrien’s cheek in close against his. Adrien turned his head a little. The touch of his breath made Felix’s lashes flicker. “Like this?” Felix cleared his throat. “Yeah. Like that. So, see, it’s ready for the first rise—” Adrien lowered his arms, but he didn’t release them, keeping Felix caught in the loop. “What is that? Soap?” Felix broke off, silent for the space of a heartbeat. “What?” Adrien turned his face in against the side of Felix’s throat, inhaled. “You smell good. Like…” “Yeast?” Felix asked dryly. “No. Better.” Felix turned about to face him. “What are you doing?” Adrien looked back at him. “I’m not doing anything.” Adrien dropped his voice to a low pitch, turning it soft and intimate. He held Felix’s gaze, long enough that his unspoken interest hung in the air between them. By now, there wasn’t any way that Felix could not know. Felix’s brows snapped down. “Well, quit it. I’ve got work to do.” He ducked under Adrien’s arm and slid away. Felix returned to his own task while Adrien returned the dough to the bowl, covered it, and found a warm spot on top of the fridge for it to rise. But as he did, he was aware of the weight of Felix’s attention on him with every move that he made. Felix watched him from the corner of his gaze, skittish and wary, like Adrien might do something dangerous at any moment. It sent a thrill through Adrien. He couldn’t help but think what it might be like if Felix were the sort of guy he could seduce into 95

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bed. If he would let Adrien tie him down, and have his way with him… Felix seemed to be trying very hard not to look at Adrien, but even so, he stilled whenever Adrien moved, watching him to see what he was doing, or jumped when Adrien accidentally rapped a spoon against the side of a metal bowl and it rang like a bell. When Adrien found another excuse to cross the kitchen into Felix’s personal space, Felix fumbled with the measuring cup he’d been using and spilled sugar across the counter. Felix sucked in his breath like he was going to explode at Adrien for aggravating him all day. But all he did was let it out again. “Excuse me. I need to get the sponge.” He turned toward the sink. Adrien stayed where he was, leaning against the counter. Felix stopped in front of him. He lifted his gaze to Adrien’s. His expression was impatient and expectant, waiting for Adrien to step aside like anyone else would. Adrien just met his gaze and held it. When Felix didn’t step around him, he moved forward, closing what little distance there was left between them. Felix took a sharp breath. His chest nearly brushed Adrien’s. Adrien waited to see what he’d do, if he’d walk away or say something, but Felix didn’t move at all, and he didn’t speak a word. Slowly, Adrien leaned in, wondering if Felix would let him kiss him after all. But the moment he moved, Felix braced his hands on Adrien’s shoulders and held him back. “Don’t,” he said, his voice ragged. Adrien searched his gaze. “Why not?” “You know why.” Felix held Adrien’s eye, his jaw set, every line in his body 96

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speaking of his determination. Adrien sighed to see it, and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “He doesn’t deserve you, you know.” Felix’s expression turned frigid. He moved back. “I suppose you’re going to try to tell me that I’d be better off with you.” “No.” Adrien shook his head. “I’m my own special brand of fucked up, and I’m no better cut out for a relationship than he is. I just meant…” He trailed off, sighed again. What he’d meant was that Felix was loving and loyal and he’d proved Adrien right. He might have been interested in and affected by Adrien’s advances, but he hadn’t hesitated at all in turning him down flat. And how did Cristian reward him? With skepticism and doubt that Felix hadn’t done anything to deserve. But Adrien couldn’t say any of that. Felix might have deserved better than Cristian gave him, but Adrien wasn’t about to sabotage their relationship by admitting the truth, that Cristian had practically thrown him at Felix and wished him good luck. Felix didn’t deserve to be hurt, either, and Adrien didn’t want to be the one to do it. Felix looked like he was going to demand Adrien finish his thought. Before he could, the sound of the front door opening made them both turn. Felix moved quickly away from Adrien as Cristian came into the kitchen. Cristian’s gaze swept over both of them. It darkened when it landed on Adrien. “What’s going on?” “Nothing,” Felix said, trying too hard to keep his tone light. Adrien nearly groaned. The only way Felix could have been more obvious was if he’d blurted out the truth. How could Cristian worry about him being unfaithful, when he was this bad at lying? “Yeah?” Cristian dragged his gaze to Felix, but he didn’t look 97

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any happier. Adrien wasn’t inclined to feel sympathetic. You brought this on yourself, he thought, crossing his arms over his chest. You can’t court misery and then go crying that it made you unhappy. “We’ve just finished here.” Felix brushed by Adrien without so much as a glance of acknowledgment. “Any word from the tour group?” “They ran into traffic leaving Madrid, but they’re just outside the city now. They’ll be here in a quarter hour.” He drew a breath like he was bracing himself, said, “Felix,” in a tone of voice from which nothing good could come. Adrien came around the bar, speaking over whatever Cristian had been about to say. “You know, I think I’ve just about had my fill of the kitchen. Felix, we’ve been in here two days straight. Why don’t we let Cristian take a turn, and I’ll go help you welcome the tourists.” Felix glared furiously when Adrien caught him by the elbow and pulled him out of the kitchen. He started to retort, but Cristian didn’t protest, just frowned harder, and Adrien didn’t let him go until they were standing out on the drive in front of the house. Felix wrenched his arm free and rounded on Adrien. “What the hell are you doing?” “Not what you think.” “Really.” Felix crossed his arms over his chest, stared. “And what exactly do I think, then?” “That I’m trying to get into your pants. That I dragged you away from Cristian because I think it’ll better my odds.” He slanted a sideways glance at Felix and waited, but Felix didn’t deny it. “Look, I don’t know either of you very well, it’s true, but I know me, and I know that when I’ve got that look in my eyes, it 98

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means I’m about to let my temper get the better of me and say something thoughtless. I’ve already been the cause of one fight between you two. I just thought maybe I could prevent another.” Felix made a face but didn’t say anything else. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared out at the road, waiting for the tour group. Adrien shifted his stance so they stood near one another, their shoulders brushing. He did it for his own benefit, not for the sake of the dare. Because it sent heat through him to feel the friction of Felix’s skin against his, and it delighted him the way Felix flinched and tensed but refused to show any further reaction. It made him want to push, to touch him again, more blatantly, to see how far Felix would let him go before he stopped him, and if Adrien could coax him further than he’d allowed before. He let his mind wander that train of thought and wondered what it would be like if he was able to convince Felix to kiss him. What would his mouth taste like? Would he turn aggressive, once he’d submitted himself to it, and sweep into Adrien’s mouth? Or would he be yielding, and open to Adrien’s kiss without taking the lead? Felix cleared his throat. Adrien jerked his gaze over to him and realized that he’d pressed in closer against the other man without realizing it. Felix shot him a sideways glance. “Knock it off.” Adrien’s brows climbed. “I haven’t done anything.” “I know Cristy’s body language pretty damn well by now. Which means I’ve got a decent understanding of yours. I know what that look means, and I’m telling you, knock it off.” He looked out ahead again. “If you’re going to insist on helping me, the least you can do is keep your mind on the task at hand.” 99

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Adrien ducked his head and gave Felix an abashed look. “Sorry. Can’t help it.” Felix snorted, but let it pass. “You’re right, though,” Adrien continued, straightening his spine and drawing his shoulders back. “If Cristy’s going to wallow in there brooding, the least I can do is help you out in his stead. Even if I am a poor excuse for it.” “You’re not that bad.” The faint hint of a smile softened the lines of Felix’s expression, turning up the corners of his mouth. Adrien just raised his brows. “Well.” Felix conceded the point with a tilt of his head. “You’ve got potential, anyway.” “Ouch.” Adrien clutched at his heart. “Damned by faint praise.” Felix’s smile deepened, creasing the corners of his eyes. Something twisted hard beneath Adrien’s breastbone. He found himself thinking once again that Felix deserved to be with someone who appreciated him, his work ethic and his cleverness and his dry humor. Someone who didn’t waste his time with selfdoubt and crippling insecurity. Adrien was not that guy. Insecurity wasn’t something he possessed in abundance, but he’d meant it when he’d told Felix he had his own set of problems. He knew it, and mostly, he was okay with it. But Felix made him poignantly aware of everything he was lacking. Adrien wouldn’t be any better for Felix than Cristian was, he’d just fuck with him in new and exciting ways. And now who’s brooding? Adrien scolded himself as the distant rumble of an engine drew nearer. Christ, you’re as bad as he is. Knock it off, indeed. As the tour bus lumbered up the road, Adrien stepped forward 100

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with Felix to greet it, fixing a smile on his face. If there was one thing in the world he knew how to do, it was play a part. *

*

*

It took most of the evening to get all of the tourists checked in and settled into their rooms. Felix had to admit that Adrien had been a bigger help than he’d anticipated, and he was grateful that he’d offered his aid. He’d have run himself ragged trying to do it all alone, and Cristian seemed like he’d have been more than happy to allow it. But he and Adrien worked well together, much to Felix’s surprise. He supposed he’d expected Adrien to need the same watchful supervision that he had in the kitchen, to keep him from doing something backward or just plain wrong. But Adrien had taken direction well and picked up on things quickly, and by the time they’d moved on to the last of the rooms, they were working together as easily as if they’d practiced. It was unnerving, to say the least. Bewildering, to be sure. After their morning in the kitchen together and Adrien’s persistent advances, Felix couldn’t help but be keenly aware of his presence. His skin prickled when Adrien walked by, even when he wasn’t looking at him, like iron shavings brought to life by a passing magnet. It was too easy to see in him the things that he loved best about Cristy. It was almost painful, to have to remind himself over and over again that it wasn’t Cristy at all. It should have been Cristy with him, sharing his company and making the work pass faster. But he’d kept himself to the kitchen since Adrien made the suggestion, and didn’t seem the least bit inclined to leave it. 101

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After finishing the final room and getting the last guest settled in it, Adrien followed Felix back downstairs, quieter than he’d been all evening. When Felix glanced back at him, he was chewing on his lip with a thoughtful expression. “What is it?” He made eye contact for an instant, then looked away. “I don’t meant to overstep,” he began, his voice wary. Felix tensed, waiting for him to make some proposition or overture, so he could shoot him down again. “But my car is still back at that club, and I’m sort of stranded here until I get it back.” Relief swept through Felix. “Oh. Well, things seem to have settled down here.” He took the last of the stairs, and almost volunteered to drive Adrien himself. But the thought of driving in his car with Adrien, the forced proximity and closed space… It made his pulse quicken. He came into the kitchen and his gaze found Cristian immediately, up to his elbows in suds as he washed dishes in the sink. Relief swept through him. “Cristy, take Adrien into town to get his car, will you?” Cristian scowled at Adrien. “Why?” Adrien came up behind Felix and brushed against him as he passed. Felix shuddered, far too aware of the other man’s presence. He shied away and went into the kitchen to pull Cristian from the sink and give him a kiss. “I can’t be in the same room as him right now, all right? Please, do this for me.” He kissed Cristian again, lingered, let all the pent-up tension of the day rise in him and focus itself on Cristian. “I’ll make it up to you when you get back.” Instead of relenting, Cristian jerked back. “Why?” he demanded again, his words harsh. “Too much temptation, sitting two feet away from the amazing Adrien Grant?” Felix rocked back on his heels. “What?” 102

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Cristian’s gaze slid to Adrien. “I told you he would. I hardly think it counts if he fucks me while wishing it was you.” “Cristian!” Felix stared at him, appalled. And then the words he’d said started to sink in, and icy dread curled in his stomach. “What did you say?” Cristian just looked at him, his gaze flat and waiting. Resigned. “Is that why he’s been making passes at me all day? Because you…what? You told him to?” Felix spun, searching for Adrien. He stood to the side, looking out of place. When Felix’s gaze landed on him, he grimaced and held his hands up as though to deflect Felix’s anger. He needn’t have bothered. Felix whipped back around toward Cristian. “Why would you do that?” “You want him, don’t you?” Cristian threw the question out like a challenge. “I’m just a facsimile now that you’ve got the original under your roof, flirting with you? I knew you would. He didn’t believe me.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But now we all know, don’t we?” “Cristian, goddamn it—” His chest ached, far too small to contain the frantic pounding of his heart. His breath came quick and sharp, but the air felt empty. Cristian spun away and stalked out of the kitchen, grabbing his keys off the counter and his coat from the back of one of the chairs. “I told you,” he snarled, “if he’s the one you’ve really wanted all along, then you’re welcome to him. Go ahead and fuck him, for all that I care.” “Cristy, wait.” Felix strode after him. But Cristian didn’t stop, he just pulled the front door open and disappeared outside. The sound of the door slamming shut behind him stopped Felix in his tracks. He stood staring at it, shaking. 103

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“Fuck.” Adrien sighed. Felix rounded on him. “What the hell was that all about?” Adrien grimaced and passed his hand over his face. “Nothing pleasant.” “Tell me anyway.” He dropped his hand and looked up at the ceiling as though searching for forbearance. “He told me… Well, pretty much exactly what he just said. That he thinks you’d choose me over him, and that you’re just dying to get into bed with me.” Felix bristled. “But that’s—” “I know. I told him he was full of it, that you’d never do something that would hurt him, that I didn’t think you would even if he gave you permission, because you loved him.” Felix leaned his head in his hands. “He didn’t believe you.” And why would he have? Felix had a hard enough time convincing Cristian of it himself. He’d never believe it from a stranger. Certainly not from Adrien. “He pretty much dared me to prove it.” Adrien grimaced again. “I was trying to show him that he doesn’t give you half so much credit as you deserve.” Felix lowered his hands and looked at Adrien. “So all that, today—that was all an act.” And he was twice a fool for having let it get to him. Adrien was an actor, of course. He’d made a career out of pretending to feel things that he actually didn’t. But Adrien looked at him, his eyes widening and his expression softening. “No,” he said. “No, that wasn’t an act.” Felix’s mouth went dry. There wasn’t anything at all he could say to that. But he didn’t have to—Adrien looked into his face and abruptly took him by the arm and pulled him toward the kitchen. “Come on. I could use a drink, and I rather imagine you could, 104

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too.” Adrien pushed him down onto one of the stools and started rooting through cupboards. “I know I saw liquor in here the other day when we were putting things away.” “On the left,” Felix told him. “By the fridge.” Adrien frowned and rifled through the bottles crowded on the shelves. “Any preferences?” “Whiskey.” When Adrien continued his search, he added, “Top shelf. In the front.” Adrien found the bottle and held it up to the light. His brows twitched as he read the label. “Christ. You drink this cheap stuff? It must taste like paint thinner.” “It gets the job done.” Felix couldn’t sit still, not when Adrien was taking so damn long to start pouring the drinks. He rose and got a cup for each of them, and trays of ice from the freezer. Adrien took over from there, adding ice to the glasses and splashing whiskey in on top. He passed Felix one of the drinks and raised the other. “Here’s to us,” he said grimly. “I’ve got blue balls for the second night in a row, and now I bet you do, too, all because your boyfriend’s an insecure ass. We could take ourselves to our beds and spend the night brooding that they’re empty, but instead we take company in our misery and follow the timehonored tradition of drowning our sorrows in cheap booze.” “Hear, hear.” They knocked the rims of their glasses together, then drank. Adrien came up wheezing. “Christ Almighty, I think that is paint thinner.” “Near enough,” Felix agreed. “But it gets you drunk in no time flat.” Adrien’s lips curved. “Sounds like just the thing, then.” He raised his glass in salute and tipped it back. 105

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CHAPTER 6 It didn’t take long for the heat of the alcohol to spread through Felix’s stomach and up into his chest. It warmed the places that Cristian’s betrayal had left frozen and bitter, and burned away the numb shock that had kept him distant from it. Now, it all rushed in on him, swamping him with belated, helpless rage. “That bastard,” he snarled. Adrien shot him a startled look. “What?” “Cristian.” Felix glowered at the countertop. “Throwing you at me like that. Thinking that I’d jump into bed with you the minute you put yourself in my path. I don’t know what he was thinking. I don’t know how he could have thought that.” “Well…” Adrien started, but Felix spoke over him. “How could he think of doing something like that? Telling you 106

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to come down here and try to charm me into bed with you like it’s some kind of experiment, like it doesn’t matter at all how I feel or what I want. Like it doesn’t matter that I love him.” He drew a breath to continue. It trembled, unexpectedly ragged. Adrien’s eyes went wide. “Hey.” He came around the bar to where Felix was sitting. “Don’t you go getting teary when he’s the asshole. I meant what I said. You deserve better than that.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry I went along with it. I just thought you’d turn me down flat and that would be the end of it. I didn’t think you’d put up with me. I sure didn’t think he’d tell you.” “You’re almost as bad as he is.” Felix glared. “You can’t just pull me this way and that and see what I’ll do. I am not a toy.” “I know. I’m sorry.” Adrien looked him in the eye, his expression sincere and painfully contrite. He might have been faking, but it didn’t matter. It just made Felix think that, if he were a better actor, he might pretend to be Cristian and say it again. It was Cristian who ought to have been apologizing so earnestly and looking at him like that, like he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Felix didn’t forgive him. Not Adrien, who barely knew him but was kind all the same. His breath went ragged again. Felix leaned his elbows on the counter and pressed his face into his hands, struggling for control even as the alcohol in his system stripped it away. “Felix?” “I’m sorry.” Felix spoke into his hands. He should have just gone up and gone to bed after all. Adrien surely hadn’t been wanting such a maudlin companion when he’d suggested the drinks. He drew another breath and tried to steady himself. “There’s no telling when he’ll be back. I should take you to get 107

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your car—” “Forget about the car. I can get it tomorrow. It doesn’t matter.” He put his hands on Felix’s shoulders, tried to turn him around. Felix fought against him, but Adrien was holding his liquor better. He dropped his hands and stared up at Adrien miserably. “Fuck,” Adrien muttered, frowning. “Bastard. He’s lucky he’s not here. I’d tear him a new one for doing this to you. I don’t know why he can’t realize what a great guy he’s got.” His kind words only made Felix feel worse. He shook his head and tried to wave Adrien’s criticisms off, but Adrien persisted. “Why do you put up with it?” “Because I love him.” Adrien made a face. He didn’t have to say anything for Felix to know what he was thinking. For God’s sake, why? If this is the way he treats you… “You don’t understand. You don’t know him. He’s at his worst when he’s around you. He’s not usually like this. Usually he’s very kind, and funny, and—” And very much like Adrien was, Felix realized. Adrien was like Cristian the way he might be if he let go of his inferiority complex and let himself just be who he was, instead of fighting so hard to be different. It was too easy to see Cristian when he looked at Adrien, all his best qualities and the little things that had made Felix fall in love in the first place. Adrien kept his gaze on Felix for a moment. Felix realized Adrien was waiting for him to complete his sentence, but he couldn’t voice any of the thoughts that had followed it, so he said nothing, just shook his head. Adrien sighed and slipped off the stool. “Come on.” He held his hand out for Felix. “If I don’t get you upstairs now, you’re going to end up in a puddle on the floor, and I’ll be in no shape to 108

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do anything about it. Come on, I’ll help.” Felix grumbled in protest, but allowed Adrien to draw him to his feet and guide him out of the kitchen. Climbing the stairs took more concentration than it should have, but they made it safely to the second floor and stumbled together down the hall. Felix stopped in front of Adrien’s room and tried to shake his arm off. “Hold on.” Adrien looked alarmed. “We can’t stop here. I promised to get you back to your room.” “I’ll make it,” Felix assured him. “But—” Adrien pulled on Felix’s arm, trying to keep him there. Felix stumbled and Adrien grabbed at him like he meant to keep Felix from falling. Felix turned to tell him that he was fine and Adrien could let go, that he wasn’t that drunk. But he found himself reluctant to speak the words. Adrien’s hands were warm where they wrapped around his arms, and he was very close. He looked concerned, which Felix thought was very sweet of him. And all Felix had waiting for him in his own room was an empty bed, too big for just one person. He couldn’t remember why he’d been so eager to get off to it. “Adrien,” he said slowly. “I don’t think I’m ready to go to bed just yet.” Adrien’s brows wrinkled. “What do you want to do?” “I don’t know.” But the heat of Adrien’s hands on his skin was putting ideas in his head that refused to be ignored. It was too easy to see Cristian in him, and even easier to dismiss concerns about what Cristian would think of this whole situation. It was Cristian’s fault they were in it to begin with. He told me to fuck him, Felix thought with a rush of defiance. It’d serve him right if I did just that. 109

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Felix put his hand over Adrien’s where it was wrapped around his arm. Adrien glanced down at it, then back up at Felix, a question in his eyes. Felix stepped forward and answered it, pressing his mouth to Adrien’s. Adrien tensed. His hand tightened on Felix’s arm, and he pushed him back. “Wait. Don’t do that.” “Why not?” Adrien grimaced. “You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight—” Felix curved his hand around the back of Adrien’s neck and pulled him in again. Adrien’s breath stuttered against his lips, warm and tasting of the liquor they’d been drinking. Felix tried to follow it into Adrien’s mouth, but when his tongue brushed Adrien’s lips, he tore his mouth away again. “Felix—” Felix sucked in a breath, fighting against irritation. “What are you worried about? He told me to fuck you.” Adrien shut his eyes and shook his head. “You know he didn’t mean it. This is going to seem like an awful idea when you’re sober.” Felix spread his hands on Adrien’s chest and pushed at him. Adrien took a step back, then another. His back came up against the bedroom door so when Felix advanced another step, Adrien was pinned. “I don’t think so,” Felix murmured. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Adrien’s throat, just beneath his jaw. “It seems like a fine idea.” “Felix.” “You said it wasn’t an act.” Felix sucked at the skin of his throat, the way Cristian always liked. Adrien groaned and dug his 110

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fingers into Felix’s waist. “You said you want me.” “I meant it.” Adrien’s voice came out strained. “But that still doesn’t mean we should.” “Why not?” Felix asked again. He reached past Adrien and found the knob. The door swung in under Adrien’s weight. He stumbled and tried to catch himself on the jamb, but Felix took advantage and pressed him back before he could regain his balance. “Don’t tell me I’m going to regret it in the morning,” Felix snapped when it looked like he was going to speak. “I’m completely fed up with people telling me how I’m going to feel and what I’m going to do.” Adrien shut his mouth without speaking a word. Before he could figure out some other protest to make, Felix spread his hands wide over Adrien’s chest and slid them down, over his stomach and past his waist. He pressed his palms to the solid erection that strained against the fabric of his pants. Adrien groaned again and arched into Felix’s touch. “If you really want to stop,” Felix said, “then go ahead and stop me. You’re a big guy. You’re stronger than Cristian, and even he’s stronger than I am.” He stroked Adrien firmly through the fabric. “You could overpower me easy, if you really weren’t interested.” “I’m interested,” Adrien breathed. “But I don’t think—” “Is it true what the trash mags say about you? Or is it just bullshit meant to boost their numbers?” Adrien blinked his eyes open and looked at Felix in confusion for a moment. “I don’t know. What do they say about me?” “That you like to tie guys up and beat them for fun.” Adrien blinked again. “Oh. Well, no, that’s true. I do. Sometimes. Not always.” 111

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“I want you to.” Adrien rocked back, his brows climbing. “You what?” “I want you to tie me up and beat me.” The corner of Felix’s mouth turned up. “For fun.” It was impossible to miss Adrien’s reaction to the request. His hands tightened on Felix, fingers digging in. He moaned, a hungry sound, and sucked his lip between his teeth. His gaze slid over Felix like he was imagining all the things he might do to him, with an invitation like that. “Cristian never would,” Felix explained. “Even if I begged him.” “Did you ask him as nicely as you just asked me? I can’t imagine how he could refuse.” Felix made a face and gave a dismissive gesture. “He’d think it makes him too much like you.” Adrien looked startled and he started to speak, but Felix didn’t want to have a conversation about this. He pulled Adrien in again, bit at his lips until Adrien finally parted and let him in. Felix hooked his arm around Adrien’s neck and explored his mouth eagerly, sweeping his tongue along Adrien’s, nibbling at the soft skin of his lips, tracing the line of his teeth. Adrien’s hands tightened and he wrenched Felix in against him, then dragged him around and staggered with him to the bed. Felix climbed up onto the mattress without breaking away from Adrien’s kiss. He knelt at its edge while Adrien still stood on the floor and let his hands roam restlessly, sliding over his stomach, around his waist, up to trace his back and shoulders. Back down again to curve his fingers into the firm, rounded muscles of his ass and haul Adrien’s hips in against his. “Jesus,” Adrien muttered against his mouth, and dragged 112

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Felix’s shirt up to bare his stomach. He curved his hand around Felix’s ribs and caressed up his chest. His thumb swept circles around Felix’s nipple, drawing it into a hard knot. Felix leaned in against his touch, encouraging him to be rougher, harder. When Adrien caught one nipple between his thumb and index finger, Felix made a low sound and pressed his hips against Adrien’s. Adrien tugged his shirt up higher. Felix broke away from his kiss to lift his arms over his head so Adrien could pull it off. He tugged his wrists out of the sleeves and reached for Adrien again. Felix pulled at him, sliding backward until Adrien climbed up onto the bed with him. Adrien laughed when Felix reached for the button of his pants. “You’re direct, aren’t you?” “Problem?” Felix asked, raising a brow at him. “Not in the least.” He pulled his own shirt off while Felix worked his pants open and pushed them down to his knees with his underwear. While Adrien sat on the bed’s edge and pushed them off the rest of the way, Felix reached for his own fly. Adrien shot him a sharp look. “No. Stop that.” Felix pulled his hands away reluctantly. It hardly seemed fair that Adrien was getting naked and Felix was still half-dressed. He could have said as much, but it seemed silly to start making demands when he’d just asked Adrien to tie him up. He let his hands fall to his sides and waited. Adrien grinned at him and shed the last of his clothes. He got onto his knees and advanced toward Felix, straddling his legs. Felix braced his hands behind him, leaning back as Adrien advanced. He pressed in close and skimmed his lips along Felix’s collar. He slid one hand into Felix’s hair, encouraging him to tilt his head back to grant Adrien greater access. 113

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Felix’s pulse thundered through him as Adrien pressed in close, letting his weight settle down against Felix’s hips. He sucked in a breath and rocked up against the pressure. Adrien nipped at the edge of Felix’s collarbone with his teeth and pushed on his shoulder. Felix lay back, letting himself settle into the bed. Adrien rewarded him by bending down and taking one nipple into his mouth. Felix groaned and grabbed at the back of Adrien’s head, holding him there. Adrian dragged the flat of his tongue over Felix’s nipple, sucked at it and caught it between his lips. Felix moaned to show his enjoyment and twisted his fingers in Adrien’s hair. When Adrien pinched Felix’s nipple between his teeth, Felix stilled beneath him, tensed. Adrien increased the pressure gradually, rolled it a little bit between the edges of his teeth. Felix’s breath exploded from him. He moaned loudly and dragged at Adrien’s hair, pressing up into his mouth. Adrien released him. The sudden switch from intense sensation to only the warm brush of Adrien’s breath made Felix groan in disappointment. Adrien pushed his arms off of him when Felix tried to pull him back. He pressed them down to the bed until Felix relented and left them there when he released his hold. He looked down at Adrien, his dark hair brushing against Felix’s skin as he bent and kissed Felix’s stomach. Felix’s muscles twitched beneath Adrien’s lips, and tightened when he brushed his kisses low on Felix’s stomach. His fingers worked at the fly of Felix’s pants. The fabric gaped open and Adrien kissed lower. His tongue drew maddening designs across Felix’s skin. 114

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Felix dug his heels into the bed, pushing his hips up in blatant invitation. Adrien scraped his skin between his teeth again and pushed Felix’s pants off his hips. The cool air in the bedroom was a torment on Felix’s heated flesh. His cock was stiff and aching already. He wanted to grab at Adrien and pull his hands or his mouth to it, but he held himself still, so tense he was nearly trembling. Adrien slid down the bed as he pushed the last of Felix’s clothes off. Felix pulled his feet out of the legs of his pants, but stilled when Adrien wrapped the fingers of one hand around his ankle. Adrien stretched Felix’s leg out flat on the bed. His gaze was intense, heated, as he crawled back up Felix’s body. Felix dug his teeth into his lip, hoping Adrien would give his kisses or caresses to his neglected cock. He wasn’t going to beg. But he was tense with wanting. When Adrien bent and kissed the hollow of his hip but ignored Felix’s cock entirely, Felix groaned in frustrated longing. “If you don’t tie me up soon,” he warned, frowning, “I’m going to do something you won’t like.” Adrien raised his head and grinned at him. “Like what?” Felix reached down to grasp his cock and stroke it, so he might have some relief, but Adrien caught his wrist before he could do more than graze his fingers across his skin. He tsked and shook his head. “You’re right. I don’t like that.” He pinned Felix’s wrist to the bed and held it there. He bent over Felix’s hips like he meant to suck his cock. His lips hovered just above Felix’s flesh, so he couldn’t feel anything but Adrien’s breath. “If you wanted to be able to do that, you shouldn’t have asked me to dominate you.” 115

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“I didn’t, exactly,” Felix pointed out, though he never would have split hairs in such a way if he hadn’t been so frustrated. “I asked you to tie me up and beat me.” Adrien rose above and looked down at him. “They’re the same thing.” “Not always.” “They are with me.” Felix met his gaze, held it. “Well, do something about it, then.” The corner of Adrien’s mouth turned up. He pinned Felix’s hips to the bed and bent, kissed the hollow of his hip again and down along the inside of his thigh. Felix thrust up, request and invitation in one, but Adrien kissed all the way around his cock without once touching it. By the time it made it back to where he’d begun, Felix was biting down hard on his lip to restrain the hungry noises that rose up in him. Adrien shifted his weight and sat up, still holding Felix by the hips. He looked down at him, frowning sternly. “Don’t move,” he said. “Or I’ll tie you up and leave you there until morning.” Felix raised a brow. When Adrien released him and moved over to the edge of the bed, bent down and rifled through something out of sight, he worked his arms beneath himself and pushed up onto his elbows to see what Adrien was doing. Adrien straightened and turned back with a length of rope in his hands. He glanced at Felix and frowned. “Jesus,” he said. “Are you always like this? It’s no wonder he won’t play with you. You don’t follow the rules. I said don’t move.” He caught Felix’s wrist and pulled his arms out from under him, so Felix dropped down onto his back again. “I didn’t touch myself,” Felix pointed out. “I just wanted to see.” 116

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“I’m pretty sure I was very clear with my instructions.” Adrien knelt over him, the rope stretched between his hands. “Can you tell me why I shouldn’t tie you up and leave you here, like I said I would?” “Because then you’ll be going to bed horny and frustrated, too,” Felix answered him. “And if you leave me here, you’d have to take my bed, and if Cristian came home and crawled into bed to find you there with him, you probably wouldn’t survive the night.” Adrien laughed and leaned forward, bracing his hands in the bed. He lowered himself over Felix and brought their mouths together. Felix kissed him eagerly. He didn’t grab at Adrien or pull him down against him like he wanted to, for fear it would make him stop and follow through on his threat to tie Felix up. But he did thrust his hips up against Adrien’s, his cock sliding against the skin of Adrien’s stomach. He groaned at the feel of it and kissed Adrien harder. He thrust a second time, and a third. He was pushing his luck, but he couldn’t help himself. Adrien broke away and rolled off of Felix. Felix made a sound of frustrated disappointment and pushed himself up, frowning. “Turn around,” Adrien told him. Felix did as he said, turning around on the bed so his back was facing Adrien. His heart pounded harder as he listened to the sounds of Adrien moving behind him, excitement at wondering what he was doing and knowing that he would have to wait and see. He startled when Adrien wrapped the first loops of rope around his wrist. He bound it like a cuff, not tight enough to hurt but firm enough that there was no room for Felix to twist or wriggle his hand through the bonds. When Adrien drew both of Felix’s hands 117

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behind his back and began to tie the second one, too, securing them both at the small of his back, Felix’s pulse tripped, then sped to a gallop. Adrien wrapped the rope up his forearms, cinching it so that Felix’s shoulders were forced back and his mobility was limited. His cock throbbed, a potent mix of excitement and nerves. Adrien leaned past him to grab the pillow from the bed. He had to lean in against Felix’s back to reach it, a long line of warmth and the solidness of his erection pressing between Felix’s cheeks. Felix leaned back and rubbed against him, savoring the feel of Adrien’s cock sliding against his ass. Adrien laughed and slapped his hip, just hard enough for a sting followed by a rush of heat. He positioned the pillow on the bed and braced one hand at the base of Felix’s neck, pushing until he bent forward. Felix struggled back when it felt like he was going to lose his balance and tip forward, instinctive panic because he couldn’t catch himself with his hands bound behind his back. But Adrien kept the pressure steady on the back of his neck, forcing him forward, past his center of gravity so that he did fall. The pillow caught him, and Adrien helped adjust it so it was folded up, mostly beneath his chest, supporting him without smashing his face into the bed or wrenching his neck. “All right?” Adrien asked, his fingers light on the back of Felix’s neck. Felix nodded and twisted, settling down against the pillow. He had his knees beneath him, and the position thrust his ass up into the air, exposed and vulnerable. Anticipation slid through him, making his breath hitch. “Yes,” he murmured. “It’s fine.” The mattress shifted beneath Felix as Adrien moved away and 118

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climbed off the bed. He rifled with something that was once again hidden from Felix’s sight by the edge of the bed, but when Adrien climbed back up with him, he was holding a long, wide leather belt. Anxiety and anticipation wrapped tight in the pit of Felix’s stomach. He bit down on his lip as he watched Adrien fold the belt in half and consider its length and the span of his swing. Then he moved back, where Felix couldn’t see him and he could only judge his position by the way the bed moved beneath his weight. Adrien’s hand touched the small of Felix’s back lightly, but it still made him jump at the unexpectedness of it, and because he had been bracing himself for a blow from the belt, not a gentle touch. He smoothed his touch over the base of Felix’s spine, then slid them up until he found Felix’s hands, pinned low on his back. “Watch your fingers,” he warned. Felix curled them into loose fists, to keep them out of the way. Adrien made a quiet sound of approval and slid back again. His hand dropped down to spread over Felix’s cheek. When the hand fell away, Felix tensed, bracing. The sharp rush of the belt through the air was the only warning he had before it landed, a solid blow across both cheeks. Felix gasped as fire crept out from where the belt had landed and burned across his skin. Another whistle made Felix tense in preparation for a second blow. This one landed crooked, low on one cheek, high on the other. It rocked Felix forward against the pillow, made him wish he had his hands free so he could brace himself. It knocked the air from him, and by the time he’d drawn breath to groan or cry out, Adrien had struck him a third time. It forced a low, ragged moan from him. The skin across his ass burned from the beating. His hands were in tight fists now, 119

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shudders coursing down his spine. “Again,” he demanded. Adrien gave a husky laugh. He traced one of the marks. His touch was potent and sent a shudder down Felix’s spine. “Who’s in charge here?” Felix tugged against the ropes that bound him and twisted his head enough to look back and up. Adrien knelt behind him, looking down on him in amusement. “I should think it’s obvious.” Adrien spread his hands wide over both cheeks of Felix’s ass and kneaded the muscles firmly. Need jolted through Felix as Adrien rubbed the sensitive lines he’d left on Felix’s flesh. He cried out and rocked back into Adrien’s touch, increasing the pressure, making it more potent. “Please?” he groaned. Adrien chuckled again. “You ask so nicely.” His hands fell away, leaving Felix aching for a touch. Felix tensed in anticipation of the next blow, waiting for it, aching with the hunger for more. Even so, it landed harder than he could have expected, high on his cheeks where there was less muscle for padding. It drove him forward and he lay slumped against the pillow, struggling for breath. He’d barely even begun to catch it when Adrien struck him again, just as hard, across the tops of his thighs, where the impact seared with pain. “Jesus Christ!” Felix shuddered, groaning. “Too much?” Adrien asked him. Felix shook his head frantically. “No, no. Don’t even think it.” He could hear the smile in Adrien’s voice when he answered, “Good.” Another strike landed, and another, and the hunger rose 120

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steadily in Felix with each of them. His cock was painfully hard, throbbing where it was pressed between Felix’s thighs and his stomach. He was intimately aware of the fact that Adrien hadn’t touched him at all throughout all of this, not there. He craved a touch, even a brief one, anything but this deprivation. He waited for Adrien to relent and give him his release, even though he knew he waited in vain. But despite his frustration, he was enjoying Adrien’s beating far too much to ask him to stop. Cristian would never do this, not even if Felix somehow managed to convince him to try. He couldn’t imagine Cristian going at him with such carefree good humor as Adrien did. And if he gave in now, Adrien would stop beating him and start fucking him. He wanted to take advantage of Adrien’s willingness to wield the belt as much as he was able. When Adrien did stop, it came as a shock. Felix’s body tensed in anticipation of the next blow, quivering, but the moment lengthened and it didn’t come. He twisted, straining to see over his shoulder and get some explanation. Adrien was still behind him, looking down at him thoughtfully, the doubled belt hanging at his side. He set it down on the bed. Felix nearly groaned in protest, but Adrien spread his nowempty hand over Felix’s hip. His thumb traced a mark across Felix’s cheek. Felix waited, shivering. After an eternity, Adrien climbed up the bed and stretched out on top of him. Felix let loose a quiet moan as Adrien’s weight settled onto him. “Felix,” he murmured, leaning his brow against Felix’s back. “I gave you what you asked for.” Felix gave a shocked laugh. “You’re not stopping now.” It wasn’t a question. Stopping was inconceivable. Not now, not like 121

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this. “Fuck me.” Adrien was quiet for another long moment. “I want to.” His hips nudged against Felix’s. His hands tightened on Felix’s waist, and he swallowed a groan. “He doesn’t deserve you. But…” Felix shut his eyes and pressed his brow against the mattress. “Are you sure you want to do this?” “He told you to seduce me. He dared you to. If he can’t live with the consequences of that, he shouldn’t have done it.” Adrien’s hand slipped up, stroking over Felix’s stomach, moving away from where he wanted those fingers. “I’m not worried about him.” Felix exhaled sharply. “Fuck me, goddamn it.” Adrien slipped his hand around from Felix’s stomach to his back, then trailed it down. He slid his thumb in the cleft of Felix’s ass and brushed over his entrance. Felix moaned, ragged and needy, and shifted his stance to grant Adrien better access. Every nerve fiber he possessed focused in on that touch, waiting tense to see if he’d take it any further. Adrien let the pad of his thumb rest against Felix’s entrance for a moment. Then with careful, rocking pressure, he bore down against it, easing it open, excruciatingly patient. Sweat broke out along Felix’s spine. He pressed his face against the bed to muffle the sounds he couldn’t restrain. Every time he thought he’d managed to find a scrap of self-control to cling to, Adrien pressed his finger in just a little bit harder, and swept it all out of his grasp. Adrien kissed Felix’s nape, then slid down, leaving a trail of kisses down his spine. His breath gusted across Felix’s shoulders. His lips tickled the narrowest point of Felix’s waist. When he reached the base of Felix’s spine, he lingered, let the tip of his 122

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tongue trace across Felix’s skin. He braced both hands on Felix’s ass and used them to spread his cheeks. Felix tensed, waiting, hardly daring to hope Adrien intended anything more than another torment. Adrien’s breath brushed over his skin, prickling and warm. The tip of his tongue brushed a fleeting caress, not where Felix wanted it but close enough to make him moan. Behind him, Adrien chuckled and licked him again, a firmer, lingering stroke this time. Felix twisted and pressed back against Adrien, trying to direct him. To his relief, Adrien didn’t stop or chastise him for trying to take control from him, he just tightened his fingers on Felix’s hips to hold him still and continued his maddening kisses. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of teasing, Adrien’s tongue flicked over Felix’s anus. Felix cried out and shuddered, groaned, “God, again.” Adrien didn’t scold him for that, either. His hands spread Felix’s cheeks apart and he bent over him, licking over Felix’s entrance more firmly, tracing circles around it. He probed at it with the tip of his tongue, working it open. Felix bit down hard on his lip and struggled to relax when his whole body was so tense with need that it was painful. Gradually, he was able to relax his muscles with conscious effort, and Adrien’s thrusts with his tongue were able to sink deeper, stretch him open farther. Adrien’s hands skimmed over him, stroking his ass and sliding up over his back, down to caress his thighs. His mouth on Felix was eager, and when he drew it away, Felix cried out in protest. Just as quickly, Adrien replaced it with the broader pressure of a fingertip. Felix bore down against it as he rocked back, and Adrien’s finger sank into him easily. Adrien’s groan was just as 123

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needy as Felix’s. “God,” he muttered, rocking his finger deep inside Felix. “This really isn’t fair at all.” “I can’t imagine what you’re complaining about,” Felix muttered. Adrien laughed hoarsely. “Not complaining.” He withdrew his finger nearly all the way, then thrust it in again. Felix groaned. “Just appreciating what I’ve got, while I’ve got it.” Felix wasn’t sure what he meant by that. He frowned and started to ask for an explanation, but Adrien worked a second finger in beside the first and words failed him. He moaned and rocked back against the pressure, helping Adrien penetrate him. The feeling of being stretched was delicious, incredible. Felix shifted his weight forward and rocked back again when Adrien was too slow to continue. Adrien braced a hand on Felix’s hip and held him still while he slid his fingers slowly in and out of Felix’s ass. After long minutes, Adrien slipped his fingers out and moved back. Felix swore at the sudden loss, at the feeling of being empty when what he wanted was to be filled. He twisted, looking for Adrien, for some sort of explanation. Adrien was kneeling at the edge of the bed, a bottle of lube lying on the blankets before him and a foil-wrapped condom in his hands. Felix shivered in anticipation as he watched Adrien tear the packet open and roll the condom down over his cock. When he had the condom on all the way, Adrien looked at Felix and caught his eye. “Do you want me to fuck you like this?” he asked. “Or untie you first?” “Untie me.” Felix pulled at the ropes. The prospect of release suddenly made them unbearable. “Please.” Adrien moved in behind Felix again, close enough that his 124

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thighs brushed against the backs of Felix’s, and his cock slid against Felix’s ass. Felix rocked back, instinctive. Adrien slapped his cheek lightly, and admonished him, “Stay still, or I’ll leave you like this.” Felix shut his eyes and forced himself still as Adrien’s fingers brushed his forearms, working at the knots he’d tied. The ropes came undone, too slowly for Felix’s liking. When finally Adrien unwound the last loops and knots from Felix’s wrists, he brought his hands forward and pushed himself up. He rolled over before Adrien could stop him, turning onto his back, grabbed Adrien by the back of the neck and dragged his mouth down. Felix kissed him ravenously, biting at his lips, seeking his tongue out with his own. He hooked his leg around Adrien’s hips and used the leverage to thrust up, grinding himself against Adrien’s stomach. The feel of it, after his cock had been neglected for so long, made Felix moan against Adrien’s mouth. He thrust up again and a shudder ran through him. Adrien matched him, arching into each thrust so the friction was even more potent. Felix gasped into the kiss and reached blindly for the bottle of lube He found it, wrapped his fingers around the bottle and pushed Adrien up. Adrien sat back, watching him, his gaze steady and heated on him as Felix popped the cap open and squirted lube into his palm. Adrien’s eyes flickered shut when Felix reached down and wrapped his hand around Adrien’s cock. He stroked slowly, covering it with the lube until it was slick and his hand slipped over it on each stroke. Adrien shifted back and circled his fingers around Felix’s wrist 125

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to draw his hand away. He hooked his hand under Felix’s knee and drew his leg up. Felix helped him, tilting his hips so when Adrien settled between Felix’s thighs, the head of his cock pressed directly against Felix’s entrance. Adrien leaned forward, planting one hand in the mattress beside Felix. Felix rose up and caught his mouth, kissing him as he flexed forward with small movements, nudging into Felix and working him open. Felix panted at the feel of Adrien opening him like that, his care and patience. He reached down and wrapped his lube-slick hand around his own cock, stroking it as Adrien worked into him by slow degrees. Adrien’s eyes opened and his gaze slid down. He watched Felix’s hand pumping over his cock and groaned, like it was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. He thrust into Felix a little harder and the broad head of his cock fully slipped inside. Felix moaned and jerked his hips upward, trying to drive him in deeper. It was just another torment, a taste of what he needed but not enough. “Fuck me,” he breathed, wrapping a leg around Adrien’s waist and dragging him in against him. “God. You’re a sadist. Now.” Adrien sank into him with a long, smooth stroke until Felix had taken his full length. Felix moaned and tightened his grip on his own cock, stroking faster. When Adrien drew out and slid back in again, he cried out and arched beneath him. Adrien set a steady pace, driving into him with long strokes. Felix rose up, meeting each of them, taking him as deep as he could go. Adrien groaned into his mouth as they kissed, sharp, strangled sounds at the end of each stroke. On the next stroke, as Adrien drove forward, Felix dug his 126

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heels into the mattress and thrust up hard. Adrien’s hips slapped against his, driving into him hard and deep. Adrien muttered, “Jesus,” against Felix’s mouth and gripped his hip, fucking into him harder. Felix’s hand slid slick and fast over his cock. He pumped it harder, straining toward release as heat erupted over his skin and sweat broke across his brow. With his other hand, he scrambled to grab on to Adrien’s shoulders, but it was difficult to keep his grip. Adrien tore away from the kiss and leaned his brow on Felix’s shoulder, his back arched above him as he thrust into Felix’s ass, each stroke harder and faster than the last. His breathing rasped as he gasped for breath, shuddering on top of Felix. “Come on,” Felix breathed, fingers digging in to his waist. “God. I’m close. Fuck me.” Adrien gave a choked laugh and shook his head. He pushed up, holding himself over Felix, and looked down into his face as he fucked him. Felix held his gaze, until Adrien shifted his weight onto one hand and reached the other down to cover Felix’s. He pushed Felix’s hand away and took its place stroking over Felix’s cock. Felix looked away, then, looking down, watching Adrien’s fist glide over his flesh. He jacked Felix rougher than Felix had done, his grip tight, his hand dry, unlike Felix’s had been, still slick with lube. There was more friction. Felix shuddered harder and thrust his hips up, driving himself into Adrien’s fist. Adrien’s whole face was flushed, his eyes gone dark with need. He was close, too, his shoulders heaving as his body strained into Felix’s. Felix shut his eyes, but the sight was already too much. The pressure built up in him, surged through him. He grabbed at Adrien 127

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and gave a long, wrenching groan as his body jerked and shuddered, and semen splattered across his stomach. Adrien kept his fist moving over him until Felix had to reach down and stop him. It was too much, too intense. When Felix drew his hand away, Adrien planted both in the mattress and fucked into him hard, his hips pistoning. Felix tightened around him and grazed a thumb over Adrien’s nipple, trying to help. Abruptly, Adrien’s eyes went wide, then shut tight. He slammed into Felix a final time and locked his hips deep, shuddering and twitching. When at last his orgasm released him from its grip, Adrien slumped forward, his face pressed to Felix’s throat. Felix hung his arms loosely around Adrien’s shoulders and allowed him to lie there for a few minutes, before he wiggled out from under Adrien’s weight. Adrien rolled over to lie on his back at Felix’s side, one arm stretched up and tucked beneath his head, hogging the pillow. After a moment, he got up with a groan, peeled off the condom, and padded into the bathroom to throw it away. Felix made room for him when he returned. Adrien settled down, rolled onto his side to face Felix. His regard made Felix feel antsy, until at last Adrien said, “Are you still sure about this?” Felix shut his eyes. He turned his face in against Adrien’s chest, breathing in the scent of sweat and skin. “It’s a little late for regrets, don’t you think?” “Too late to do anything about it.” Adrien grazed his knuckle over Felix’s cheek, brushing a strand of hair away. “Not too late to have them.” Felix rolled away and climbed out of bed. “You don’t have to worry about me, Adrien.” He snatched up his shirt from the floor, 128

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clenching it in a fist to hide the way his hands trembled. “I can clean up after my own messes.” Adrien propped his head up on the heel of his hand. He watched as Felix stalked about the room, gathering the rest of his clothes, but didn’t move to stop him. “I don’t doubt that,” he said quietly. “That’s not what I asked.” Felix stopped in the middle of the room. “Am I still sure?” He drew a deep breath. “No. I don’t know. I hardly think it matters anymore.” Adrien started to speak, but his phone rang from somewhere in the vicinity of his own discarded clothes, cutting him off. Felix scooped Adrien’s jeans up from the floor and tossed them to him. “You’d better answer that,” he said and slipped out the door, grateful for the opportunity to escape. His muscles ached as he made his way back to his own room, a reminder of what they’d done. What he’d done. And this time, there wasn’t enough whiskey in the world to make it better.

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CHAPTER 7 It wasn’t early in the morning by any stretch of the imagination when Cristian returned home. He’d expected to find Felix up and busy, but the house was unusually quiet when Cristian unlocked the front door and let himself inside. He walked through the ground floor, flicking on lights as he went. The kitchen was vacant, an empty bottle of whiskey on the counter with two cups sitting in their own condensation. Felix, he thought with a sigh. He slid the glasses into the dishwasher and dumped the bottle with the recycling, then continued through the kitchen to the patio out back by the pool, drawn by a low murmur that could only be Felix’s voice. He found Felix slumped in one of the deck chairs, a hand clasped over his eyes. Adrien sat next to him, hunched over with 130

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his nose practically buried in his coffee mug. They both looked like they’d rolled out of bed and hadn’t even bothered to run a brush through their hair, sunken-eyed and miserable. Adrien didn’t give any indication he’d noticed when Cristian opened the back door and stepped out onto the patio, but Felix dropped his arm and straightened. He looked at Cristian, meeting his gaze head-on. His lips flattened, and deep creases formed at the corners of his mouth. “Back, are you?” The bitterness in his words made Cristian hesitate mid-step. He scanned Felix’s face, the furrow gathered between his brows and the unhappy lines that bracketed his mouth. “Yes,” Cristian said cautiously, fearing a misstep. “Great.” He snatched up the empty mug on the arm of his chair and stalked past Cristian, into the kitchen. “You can stop trying to throw me in Adrien’s bed now.” Cristian had turned and started to follow him back inside. He hesitated now, halfway to the kitchen while Felix made for the coffeepot. “What does that mean?” “What does it sound like?” Felix snapped over his shoulder. “I fucked him, like you’ve been telling me I ought to since before he even set foot through our door.” Cristian felt the impact of each word like a stone, hitting him square in the chest. He swallowed his reaction down, forced himself to say as cool as he could manage. “Did you?” Felix refilled his cup in silence, then turned around with it held before him in both hands. He jerked his chin up, glared at Cristian like it was a challenge. “Yeah. It was rather nice, actually. I could almost pretend he was you.” Cristian sucked in a breath. If Felix’s previous words had been 131

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stones, these were an arrow, aimed with the precision of years of familiarity. “Then again, he wasn’t a complete ass to me, so I guess it wasn’t that similar after all.” “Felix…” Cristian sucked a sharp breath through his teeth. “God.” Felix kept his stare hard, his fingers tightening on the cup. He waited, but Cristian couldn’t find the words to speak. Behind him, someone cleared their throat. “Felix.” Felix’s gaze slid sideways, reacting to Adrien though he’d been as unyielding as stone in the face of Cristian’s heartbreak. Cristian spun on him, feeling like the hole in his chest was widening, spreading, like he was tearing open. “You stay out of this,” he snarled. “You’ve done enough.” “No,” Felix snapped. “You’ve made this about him, you’ve dragged him into it. It’s always been all about him, from the day we met. I never wanted him, Cristian. I only ever wanted you. You’re the one who’s obsessed with him.” He groaned and rubbed the heel of one hand over his face. “God. I can’t talk to you right now. Go take care of your guests. I’m not doing it for you.” He strode out back and dropped into the deck chair again, picked up his cup of coffee, and stared out across the pool as though Cristian didn’t even exist. Cristian started to speak—to beg, maybe, if that’s what it would take—but Felix sipped at his coffee for all the world like he was enjoying a peaceful morning in solitude, and Cristian couldn’t make himself talk. He returned to the house without a word, and carried that gaping hole along with him. The sound of the door opening and shutting again behind him made hope leap in him for the briefest moment. He turned, but it 132

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was Adrien who had followed after him, Adrien who was the one frowning at him in concern. It was too much to bear. “Leave me alone,” he snarled. “Haven’t you done enough?” “You can blame me if you want, though I doubt that’ll do a lot of good. I just want to make sure you don’t intend to blame Felix.” Cristian scowled and headed for the stairs. There were rooms to be cleaned and beds to be made, and the work would keep him from dwelling on the pain in his chest. When Adrien followed him up the stairs, Cristian resolved to ignore him. He squared his shoulders and let himself into the first bedroom. Adrien followed him in and shut the door behind him, so it was just the two of them. “This isn’t his fault. You told him to. You can’t tell someone something like that and then take it back after the fact.” “He’s just been with me all this time because I look like you,” Cristian snarled, tearing the sheets from the bed. “Well, now he’s got you. I wish you every happiness.” Adrien didn’t move to help with the work, he just stood at the end of the bed staring at Cristian with his hard gaze. “If I thought Felix would be anything but miserable,” he said, “I would take you up on that in a heartbeat. You’ve got a great guy who’s madly in love with you, and you’re pissing it away. If you want to leave him, that’s your prerogative, but don’t pretend that he’s not going to be devastated.” Cristian shook his head, his lips pressed to a thin line. “If that were true—” If it were true, Felix never would have fucked him. Of all the people in the world he might have slept around with… Adrien’s gaze followed him, unyielding as he moved around the bed, pulling the old sheets and blankets off, putting fresh ones 133

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on. “How can you even say that? If it’s true. Jesus. I’ve been here a few days and I can see it plain enough. He loves you.” “He didn’t waste much time jumping into your bed,” Cristian snarled, all the pain in his chest turning his words harsh. “You told him to,” Adrien repeated softly. “I tell him lots of things. He’s never had a problem telling me to go to hell before.” “Yes, well.” Adrien crossed his arms over his chest, angled his head to the side. “He was heartbroken, and I got him drunk. I told you, if you want to blame someone, blame me. He was drunk. I took advantage. You’ve already got a poor enough opinion of me as it is, why not add this to my list of sins?” Adrien’s words only fueled Cristian’s anger. He pounded his fists into the pillows, when he was supposed to be fluffing them up. But it felt too good, and he did it again, beating the pillows down. “You think I don’t blame you? You’re lucky I don’t kick you out on the street and let you walk until you find some place with a vacancy. You’ll be looking for a while.” Adrien grunted, a noncommittal sound that might have meant anything. “I did rather expect you’d have kicked my ass by now.” “Don’t tempt me,” Cristian muttered and spread the blankets over the newly made bed. He turned on his heel and strode out the door, down the hall to the next room. Of course, Adrien followed him. It was too much to hope he wouldn’t. Cristian ignored him as much as he could, but he didn’t make it easy, standing in the middle of the room so Cristian had to veer around him every time he walked to the other side of the bed. Even when Cristian’s attention was elsewhere, focused on his task and his back turned, he could feel the weight of Adrien’s gaze upon him. 134

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This time, Adrien didn’t say much at all, just watching him in silent disapproval while he stripped the old sheets and replaced them with clean ones. Cristian tugged the top sheet until it was smooth and pristine, then bent to gather up the blankets. “If you want to kick my ass,” Adrien said, “then you ought to just go ahead and do it. Get it out of your system.” Cristian snorted and kept his attention on the blankets, which he’d somehow managed to tangle into a mess when he’d dragged them from the bed. “I’m serious. Unlike you, I actually mean it when I say something.” Cristian’s spine stiffened. He spun. “What the hell do you mean by that?” Adrien raised one brow at him. “You flat-out told Felix to fuck me, and now you’re pissed at him that he has. That’s what I mean. Why’d you say it, if you didn’t mean it?” “It’s none of your damned business.” Cristian tore at the blankets until they separated, and gathered the first up into his arms. When he turned for the bed, Adrien came in front of him and sat on it. “It is my business,” he countered, looking at Cristian levelly. “Felix said it, but I suppose you were too busy fuming to actually listen to him. You’ve made it my business. Now I’m in it.” He shrugged, as though to say, Deal with it. Cristian stared at him, anger filling him up, squeezing his lungs, making his breath come short and sharp. “For God’s sake.” He strode forward and grabbed Adrien by the collar of his shirt, dragged him off the bed, though if he’d had the chance to think about it, he’d have never chosen to so much as touch the other man. “I just made that. Now I’ll have to redo it. Jesus, you’re a 135

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menace.” He shoved Adrien out of the way and jerked at the sheets. They weren’t as smooth as they had been before Adrien had ruined it, but it would have to do. He didn’t have any patience left for perfection. He spread the blankets out on top, positioned the pillows at the head of the bed. Normally, he’d have stepped back then and surveyed his work critically, looking for any wrinkles or things he might have neglected. He didn’t have the patience for that either today. He spun on his heel and stalked out to the next room, the next task. Inevitably, Adrien followed him, but Cristian set his jaw and ignored him as though he wasn’t there. He wasn’t paying attention. If he had been, he’d have realized he’d reached the end of the hall, and passed this room up entirely. As it was, he was already several strides into it, Adrien close behind him, before he realized that it was Adrien’s own room. He’d be damned if he was going to so much as lift a finger for Adrien Grant. He turned for the door, but Adrien was blocking it, and when Cristian looked at him, he reached out and swung the door shut. Cristian stalked toward him, so furious his breath was coming in short, sharp pants. He hardly knew what he meant to say, only that it was bound to be something Felix would shake his head at him over later. But he didn’t get a chance. He’d just come up before Adrien and was drawing breath to let him have it, when Adrien spoke first. “You want to take a swing at me?” he demanded. “More than you can imagine.” “Fine. Do it. For God’s sake, get it over with.” Even if he had vented his anger in such a way, being given 136

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permission to do so—practically being ordered to do so—would have taken all the satisfaction out of it. Cristian shook his head. “I’m not going to brawl with you.” He spat the words out between his teeth. “Unlike some people, I’m capable of being angry without venting it through my fists.” Maddeningly, the corner of Adrien’s mouth turned up. “I’m not talking about brawling. Jeez. If I hit you back, I’d probably knock you on your ass, anyway.” It was true—Cristian had seen his strength when he’d walked in on Adrien getting dressed. If Adrien took a swing at him, he’d be lucky if all it did was knock him on his ass. But that didn’t make Adrien’s confidence any less infuriating. “Here,” Adrien said, and moved away from the door. He crouched by the bed and dug through a duffel bag. When he straightened and turned around, he had a broad, flat paddle in one hand and a handful of rope in the other. “This is what I mean.” He held them both out to Cristian. Cristian couldn’t make himself move. “Tie me up and beat me until it’s out of your system,” Adrien said with exaggerated patience. “You’re mad,” Cristian spat. “I’m just trying to help, actually.” Adrien tossed the rope and the paddle onto the bed. “Come on, Felix knew about my interest in these sorts of games. Don’t tell me you don’t.” The mention of Felix’s name brought Cristian’s attention into sharp focus. He stared at Adrien, feeling everything turn still inside of him. “Felix did this to you? Tied you up and hit you?” It almost made up for the fact that he’d fucked him, if Felix had thrashed him beforehand. But Adrien smirked again. “No. Other way around, actually.” It took Cristian a moment to comprehend what he meant. His 137

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heart beat so hard he could feel it pounding. He stared at Adrien and wondered if this was what they meant when people talked about seeing red. “You hit him?” His voice lashed out, harsh and rough. “He asked me to,” Adrien said lightly, like it was a trivial thing. “The hell he did.” Adrien looked at him for a long moment with no expression at all. Then his face broke into a grin. He took slow, measured steps toward Cristian. “Sure he did.” His grin spread. “It was his idea.” Cristian’s hand curled tight at his side. Every word Adrien spoke made the rage surge higher in him, made it harder for him to resist the urge to lash out with it. “Come on, Cristian,” Adrien said, and he was near enough that he could pitch his voice very softly without any risk at all that Cristian wouldn’t hear it. “I beat him until he was red. I know you want to give me a taste of my own medicine.” “No.” Cristian forced the word through his throat. He wanted it more than anything. But Adrien was the one who gave in to every impulse that happened to pass him by, not Cristian. “I don’t.” Adrien’s smile flashed. He returned to the bed, picked up the paddle and came back to stand before Cristian. He took Cristian by the wrist, opened his fingers and pressed the paddle’s handle into his hand. “Sure about that?” Cristian’s fingers tightened around the grip. “You’re a bastard.” A shadow flickered across Adrien’s expression, gone as quickly as it appeared. “Well, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that. Lay it on me.” “I ought to,” Cristian muttered. “You’d deserve it.” Adrien’s smile spread, as delighted as if he’d won something. 138

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“I do. I’m awful. I’ve given you nothing but grief. Jesus, what do you need, an engraved invitation?” He stepped forward, crowding Cristian back. Cristian brought his hands up and shoved Adrien away, pure instinct. Adrien laughed and advanced again, like it was a game. Cristian pushed him back again, and this time he closed the distance between them, advancing. Adrien’s brows rose. He retreated. Satisfaction surged in Cristian’s breast. Finally he’d wiped that smirk off Adrien’s face and put him on the defensive. He advanced, pushing Adrien back each time he got close, until the backs of Adrien’s legs hit the edge of the bed and momentum dropped him down onto it. Cristian stood over him, his heart pounding fast and strong. “You want me to hit you?” he demanded. Adrien ran his tongue over the edge of his lip and flicked his gaze over Cristian. “I want you to beat me. A minor distinction, I know, but if I come home with a fat lip, Amber will never let me hear the end of it. My new vid starts production in three weeks.” His expression changed as he looked up at Cristian. “Are you going to?” Cristian’s fingers tightened around the paddle’s handle. He looked down at it. It would feel so good to lash out. His whole life, Adrien had been a constant source of frustrated rage. And now here he was, putting the paddle in his hand and telling him to do what he’d always wished he could. Fuck. This is something he would do. You’re better than that. Since when do you do what he tells you? If he didn’t, he’d spend the rest of his life fuming, wishing he could vent his frustrations on Adrien, only this time knowing that he’d had an opportunity and let it pass. 139

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“Fine,” he said. “You want it? You’ve got it. Give me that rope.” Adrien reached across the bed and retrieved the rope. He passed it to Cristian without a word and stretched his arms out before him, wrists pressed together. The surreality of the moment struck Cristian as he looped the rope around his wrists. That Adrien Grant himself was here in Cristian’s guest room, sitting placidly on the bed while Cristian tied his hands together, not just allowing Cristian to raise a hand to him but actually goading him into it. He shook his head and let it pass, and when the rope was knotted around Adrien’s wrists, he used the last length of it to secure them both to the headboard. Mostly, he feared that Adrien didn’t really mean it, that he’d change his mind or reveal it all to be some elaborate prank. But Adrien didn’t protest, just slid across the bed so the rope would reach and held still while Cristian tied it off. He knelt at the head of the bed when Cristian had finished, forced to hunch over a little because of the way he was bound. He watched Cristian, his expression unreadable. When Cristian met his gaze, Adrien shifted, rising up on his knees and bracing his hands flat against the headboard so his back was toward Cristian and he was bent forward slightly at the hips. He looked back over his shoulder. “Well?” Cristian’s mouth flattened. He gripped the paddle and swung it, connected hard with the side of Adrien’s hip. The impact jolted up his arm, shocking in its strength. Adrien sucked in a breath. His fingers curled against the headboard, but he gave no other reaction. Cristian wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that. Adrien hadn’t seemed like the sort to stoically take a beating, or to swallow down his reaction to one. 140

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Cristian hit him again to test his response. Adrien’s shoulders tensed, his muscles standing out in sharp relief. Cristian adjusted the paddle’s handle in his fist, settling it more comfortably, then swung a harder blow that landed high across Adrien’s ass. This time, Adrien sucked in an audible breath and twisted away. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned. “These pants have rivets, you know.” Cristian’s brows climbed. It hadn’t occurred to him, but it was true Adrien was wearing jeans, the corners of the pockets secured with brass rivets. He chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip and struck Adrien again in the same spot. Adrien’s head dropped forward, between his arms. Cristian watched his shoulders rise as he gasped for breath. “Fuck,” Adrien said after a moment, muffled a little. “That’s wicked. I’m going to have to remember that one. You’re a natural at this.” Cristian hit Adrien again. He didn’t want Adrien’s approval, didn’t welcome it. On the next strike, Adrien spoke again. “I can’t believe Felix hasn’t thought to ask you for this.” Cristian’s arm stilled as he remembered Felix and the trash mag article. You could tie me up and fuck me until dawn. Cristian nearly dropped the paddle. “I’d never hurt him.” Adrien grunted. “You ought to reconsider that. He asks very nicely.” Cristian forced him quiet with another strike. “Shut up,” he snarled and hit him again before Adrien could catch his breath, then a third time. When he relented, Adrien was leaning heavily against the headboard, gasping out loud. Satisfaction started to swell within Cristian, until Adrien gave a broken laugh and said, “Yeah. That’s 141

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a good trick, too. Felix particularly liked that one.” “God.” Cristian hit him again, trying to drive the image of Felix tied up and begging, being beaten, out of his mind. He hit Adrien again and again, aiming for the rivets or the places where he’d already hit him, wanting to hear him shut up with his stupid taunting and cry out in pain. The most he did was gasp or suck air in through his teeth, or very occasionally he’d make a low humming noise that might have been pain, but was too ambiguous for Cristian’s liking. It might have been anything. “Of course,” Adrien said, like they were continuing a conversation, though neither of them had spoken for minutes, “Felix wasn’t exactly clothed at the time. I got to watch his skin turn red and flushed. That’s really something else.” Cristian shut his eyes. He did not want to think about Felix naked with Adrien, or Adrien hitting him hard enough to make his skin red. The thought made him lash out, swinging the paddle again, and it landed hard enough that the sound Adrien made was almost a yelp. “Shut up,” Cristian growled. “Just shut up.” “It really is satisfying,” Adrien continued like he hadn’t said anything. “I bet you’d get a kick out of being able to watch that.” He glanced back over his shoulder, his gaze appraising. “Plus, it stings a hell of a lot worse, without all that fabric to soften the blow.” Cristian’s gaze sharpened on Adrien. Whatever he was doing, he didn’t want it to be softened or dampened. He wanted Adrien to feel the full force of his blows, the full force of his anger. Adrien straightened a little and scooted forward on the bed, twisting himself into a contorted position. Cristian’s brows drew together at he stared at him, befuddled, until he realized that 142

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Adrien had brought his hips into reach of his bound hands. The waist of his jeans gaped as he unbuttoned the fly and worked the zipper down. After that, he looked back over his shoulder. “I’d be happy to do this all myself,” he said, “but that’s a little difficult at the moment.” He jerked against the ropes as though to make his point. Cristian slowly set the paddle down. Adrien was twisting, trying to get the right leverage or the right grip to work his pants down. He’d gotten them halfway off his hips, but was having trouble. Even that was enough for Cristian to see the very edge of a hot, red flush, spreading up from beneath the elastic waist of Adrien’s underwear. Cristian moved forward and laid his fingertips on the skin, feeling the heat. He traced his fingers along it, from one side of Adrien’s waist to the other. Adrien made a low sound and shifted beneath his touch, like even that was too much for him to bear. Cristian wanted to see more of that red flush, wanted to see how bright it got down where the blows were actually landing. And he wanted Adrien to have to feel it all, too, with no fabric to get in the way. He hooked his fingers beneath the waist of his underwear and worked it and his jeans down off Adrien’s hips, all the way down to his knees. His skin was a bright, cherry red, and hot as a fire. Cristian held his hand out above it, feeling the way it radiated off of Adrien’s skin without even having to touch him. Adrien watched him sidelong, craning his head around to look back at him. When he made a low sound and rocked back, pressing into Cristian’s palm, Cristian jerked his hand away and retrieved the paddle from the blankets. “Stop that,” he snapped, and struck 143

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Adrien square across one ass cheek. Adrien sucked in his breath and let it out on an unsteady laugh. “Whatever you say.” Cristian hit him again, irritated at being patronized. Even tied up and helpless with his pants around his knees, the man was still infuriating. “Be quiet.” He hit Adrien again before he could respond. “God. You’ve always got to have the last word, don’t you? Bastard. Well, you’re the one who goaded me into this. Now you can just shut up and deal with it.” Cristian hit him as he spoke, so he never had a chance to interrupt. “I bet no one’s ever raised a hand to you in your life, you spoiled ass.” Adrien made a choked sound. “That’s not true.” He forced the words out even though Cristian struck him again to try to silence him. “My father—when I was little—he spanked me once. I don’t remember why. I couldn’t sit for a week.” Cristian hesitated, staring down at him. “Once?” His lip curled. “How tragic. My heart bleeds for you.” Adrien gave a broken laugh. “It shouldn’t. I’m sure I deserved it. I was a rotten child.” “Was?” Cristian muttered, mostly to himself, and Adrien didn’t say anything, so he figured he hadn’t heard. Cristian hit him again, since the conversation had lulled, and was surprised when Adrien groaned, “You’re right. I’m not exactly a paragon nowadays, either.” Cristian’s brow climbed. He could have named a dozen ways that was true without even stopping to think about it. But he wondered what exactly Adrien thought his faults were. “Yeah?” “Well,” Adrien said slowly, “I got Felix drunk and took advantage of the state he was in, even though I knew it would only do more damage to your relationship. That’s pretty shitty.” 144

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“Yes.” Cristian hit Adrien again. “It is.” Adrien grunted at the impact and leaned his brow against his hands where they were spread on the headboard. “Look, clearly you’re a natural at this,” he said quietly. “You come by that honestly, I suppose. And Felix likes it. Wants it, even. I don’t know why you won’t just let yourself go like this with him. You’re doing yourself a disservice, as well as him.” “Jesus. Just let it go.” Cristian swung again, took a visceral satisfaction in the smack of the paddle landing on Adrien’s flesh. “It’s none of your business how we fuck. If I don’t want to beat him—” “But clearly, you do,” Adrien interrupted. “No.” Cristian hit him again to shut him up. “That’s what you like. That’s what you want. I’m not you!” Cristian punctuated each sentence with another blow, and when he’d finished he dropped his arm down to his side, breathing heavy from the anger in him as much as the exertion of the beating. Adrien twisted again, trying to look at him, his brows lowered. “Just because we both happen to like something doesn’t mean—” “Stop it,” Cristian growled. He hit him again, and again. “God. I don’t know why I should have expected you to be any better than anyone else. That’s all anyone’s ever done, my whole life, is compare me to you. The only reason I exist is because my mother wanted you.” “Cristian—” “No! Stop it. I’m not you. All I’ve ever wanted is for people to see that. All I’ve ever wanted was something that’s mine, that you’ve haven’t already done first or better. Just one thing.” Adrien was quiet for a long moment. “Well,” he said at last, “I’m sure your bread kicks mine’s ass. Did Felix tell you about my 145

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first loaf? It came out with the consistency of a brick, and when I tried to slice it—” “Bread?” Cristian stared at him, despair welling up within him. “How much do you think I care about some damn bread?” Adrien went quiet, but only for a moment. “Well, it’s not just that. Sleeping with Felix is hardly the first stupid, thoughtless thing I’ve ever done.” He hung his head forward and made a low, disparaging noise. “I don’t know where you got this idea that I’m perfect. I’m a mess. I mean, you’ve got Felix, and he’s a great guy, and he loves you. He’s built a life here with you. I’m lucky if I can get a guy who wants to spend the night. And when they do, I kick them out instead. I wouldn’t know a real relationship if it fell into my lap, and I sure as hell wouldn’t know what to do with one.” Cristian drew the paddle back and hit Adrien again. Adrien dropped his head forward and groaned, but he kept talking. “I’m a selfish bastard,” he murmured. “I was spoiled growing up. Spoiled rotten by anyone else’s definition, I’m sure, and time hasn’t made me any better about it.” “I’ve always said you were,” Cristian grumbled, but there was no satisfaction to be had in this confession. It would have been easier if Adrien had struggled against admitting his failings. He struck Adrien again, because it angered him that he was taking the wind from his sails. Adrien gave a harsh laugh and shook his head. “You don’t know the half of it, I’m sure. And Amber, God. All she does is run around cleaning up my messes. I could make her life easier if I’d just behaved for once, but good intentions aren’t worth shit, and I always end up giving her something to tear her hair out over anyway. It’s a wonder she didn’t dump me on my ass years ago.” Cristian scoffed. He struck him with the paddle again. Adrien 146

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gave a low cry. “You make her money, I’m sure. That’s incentive enough for some.” But Adrien just sighed and shook his head. “I’ve never done anything to earn it. Even Wunderkind, which started all the hype back when I was seven—I only had one stupid line in that movie. People forget that. Everything I’ve gotten, everything I have now, it’s all just been handed to me. First because of my father’s name, and now because of my own. I haven’t earned any of it.” Cristian knew it was true, had known it for as long as he’d known who Adrien Grant was. Cristian had watched him grow up, pampered and beloved by the media as well as the public, while Cristian had had only his mother, who was almost not worth having most days, and the grandparents who had raised him. “You’re spoiled,” Cristian said harshly, marking each item in his list with another swat across Adrien’s buttocks. “And selfish. And you’ve never done a lick of good with all the good fortune fate has thrown your way. You could use your wealth and influence to help those who aren’t blessed with your luck, but instead you sit on it, or spend it. You sit all alone in a house that’s too big for you by far.” Adrien’s hands clenched into fists against the headboard. His head drooped down again, all the muscles along his arms and shoulders standing out with tension. “You’re right,” he said roughly, without looking at Cristian, so the words were slightly muffled. “I know you are.” Cristian growled and hit Adrien again, harder, faster, hardly giving him time to draw a breath after each blow before the next one landed. He could have cared less about Adrien’s apologies. What good did they do? None at all. Not to anyone. There had been regret in Adrien’s words as he’d spoken, as true 147

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and sincere as Cristian could tell. He didn’t like that, either, didn’t want Adrien to take from him the anger that sat pent beneath his breast. He wanted to vent it, not to be forced to relinquish it. When Cristian finally stopped, Adrien was leaning forward, his brow against the headboard, gasping hard. “Fucking hell,” he muttered between breaths. “You’ve got quite an arm on you.” Cristian switched hands for a moment and shook out his arm. Adrien wasn’t the only one who was breathing heavy. Wielding the paddle was more exerting than he’d have expected, and as he tired, the leash he held on his anger slipped further and further. It wanted to escape, wanted to burst free from him. He stared down at Adrien, slumped over with exhaustion, and found himself speaking without meaning to. “All anyone ever sees when they look at me is you. Is who I ought to be. Who they want me to be. I’ve never been good enough for anybody. I’m just a poor substitute for the kid my mother really wanted. For you.” “I’m sorry,” Adrien whispered. Cristian sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t want your pity,” he snapped, then brought a hand up and scrubbed the heel of his hand over his brow. He sighed. “That’s not the worst part. The worst is that I do it, too. I look in the mirror, and I see you. And, God, I hate you. And I hate myself for not being you.” Adrien’s head snapped around, his eyes wide. “Cristian,” he breathed. “No. Goddamn it.” Cristian climbed off the bed and knelt to rummage through the bag Adrien had pulled the rope and paddle from. He found what he was looking for, a long, narrow length of fabric. Like a blindfold, and maybe that was its intended use, but it wasn’t what he wanted it for. Adrien’s expression transformed with surprise when Cristian 148

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folded the material along its length and pressed it against his mouth. His gaze flashed to Cristian’s and Cristian thought he might refuse, but he opened his mouth without comment and let Cristian gag him with it. Cristian tied the gag securely behind Adrien’s head and moved back to where he’d been, kneeling behind him with the paddle in his hand. When Cristian drew it back and struck him, he cried out, and Cristian was glad that he’d thought to gag him. The last thing he needed was to alarm the other guests. Cristian hit him again and again. Adrien dropped his hands down from the headboard to brace on the bed so he was on all fours, then sank forward onto his elbows, then leaned his head on his arms. At some point, Cristian found himself talking, words rushing from him now that there was no chance for Adrien to respond. “God, you’re just— You’ve no idea what it’s like. What it’s been like. It’s bad enough knowing that everyone else looks at me and sees you. Wishes I were you. I hate it. And I hate that sometimes, I just wish I could give them what they want, so everyone would stop being so disappointed in me all the time.” He kept striking Adrien as he spoke, a steady barrage that made Adrien moan against his gag. The words poured out of him, a lifetime of things he’d kept bottled up and stewed over, wishing he had a chance to say them to Adrien’s face. And now he could, and he couldn’t stop. They dragged his anger out with him, so that his blows landed harder and faster, a building tempo as the storm of emotions raged through him. Abruptly, the storm broke. He had no words left, only battered exhaustion. His head drooped forward, his back bowed. He let the 149

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paddle slip from his fingers. Adrien was slumped forward before him, his face pressed against his arms, shuddering. He made muffled sounds against the gag, like all the words that had fled Cristian had found home in him, and now he wanted to talk. Cristian moved slowly, feeling as battered as Adrien. He untied the gag and slipped it out of his mouth. Adrien gasped raggedly, but he didn’t speak. Cristian moved higher on the bed so he could reach Adrien’s wrists and work those knots free, too. When the ropes fell away, Adrien still didn’t move. He was bent over, almost curled in on himself, his shoulders heaving with each ragged breath. Cristian sat back on his heels and frowned. “Adrien.” Adrien flinched as though his name was another blow. Slowly, he drew his arms in underneath himself, braced them on the bed and levered himself half-upright. His hair was in his face. His hands shook as he pushed it back. When he turned his face to Cristian, his eyes were swollen and red, his cheeks sodden with tears. They slid down his throat, dripped from his chin. Cristian jerked back, staring at him. “Jesus.” When Adrien reached for him, he reacted without thought, moving forward, arms coming around to support him. With a broken sob, Adrien collapsed against him, his face against Cristian’s throat, Adrien’s tears hot on his skin. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Cristian didn’t know what to do, with Adrien in his arms sobbing like Cristian had broken something inside him. His anger stirred within him, restless without a source to direct it upon. It wasn’t as easy to turn it on Adrien now, when he wasn’t being infuriating. Who’d have known that cocksure Adrien Grant, who 150

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walked with a swagger wherever he went, had this vulnerable creature inside him? Cristian smoothed a hand over Adrien’s hair awkwardly, wiped the tears from his cheeks. But they just kept falling, like they’d never stop. Cristian wrapped his arms around Adrien’s middle and held on to him. He sighed and pressed his lips to the crown of Adrien’s head, waiting for the flood of tears to abate so he could he could figure out what the hell to do about all of this. Adrien shifted in his arms. He lifted his head, looking up at Cristian. “I’m sorry,” he whispered wretchedly. When Cristian tried to answer, Adrien leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. Cristian sucked in his breath. He brought his hand up without thought, curled his fingers in the hair at the back of Adrien’s skull. The anger pushed at him, made him grip tight and drag Adrien in. He forced Adrien’s mouth open, swept in and claimed it, a sudden need rising up in him, suppressed this long because it was unwelcome. But it rose up and overwhelmed him at the heat of Adrien’s mouth on his, fierce arousal that had taken root the first time he’d brought the paddle down against Adrien’s backside and had built with every choked gasp and strangled cry. Adrien climbed up into Cristian’s lap and pressed in close, like Cristian wasn’t already pulling at him hard. He clung to Cristian like he wanted to crawl inside his skin, like it was a better place to be than in his own. His pants were still down around his knees, leaving him practically half-naked. Cristian groaned when Adrien pressed their hips together. He was hard, maybe as hard as Cristian was. His erection burned against Cristian’s stomach. Cristian shoved his hands off and pushed Adrien down, anticipating a fight, but Adrien sank onto his back without a 151

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protest. He stared up as Cristian sat back and pulled his shirt over his head. Cristian stripped Adrien’s pants and underwear off with quick motions, then crawled back up over him. Adrien reached for him, wrapped his arms around Cristian’s neck and turned his face up for another kiss. Cristian speared his fingers deep into Adrien’s hair and dragged him up. He lost himself in the kiss, all frantic mouths and seeking tongues. Adrien whimpered against his lips and twisted beneath him, pressing his erection up against Cristian’s, sliding it across his stomach. When Cristian drew his hand over Adrien’s chest, he found his nipple and tugged it between his fingers. He swallowed the sound when Adrien cried out against his mouth. Adrien’s fingers dug into his waist hard, dragging at him. His whole body urged Cristian on, his kisses imploring him. Cristian broke away and leaned his brow on Adrien’s shoulder, breathing hard. “Condoms,” he groaned. “What?” Adrien asked breathlessly. Cristian looked down at him. “Don’t tell me you don’t have any. I won’t believe it. Not Hollywood’s notorious playboy.” “Oh— No— The nightstand—” Adrien twisted, looking for it, reached even though the angle was awkward. Cristian knocked his hand away and pulled the drawer open, found the box of condoms inside as well as a small bottle of lube. He grabbed both and tried to sit up. Adrien made a sharp sound of displeasure and pulled him back down. He wrapped an arm around Cristian’s shoulders to hold him in place and slid the other down to tug Cristian’s fly open. Adrien pushed Cristian’s pants down, just far enough that he 152

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could take Cristian’s cock out and wrap it in his fist. Cristian groaned and thrust into Adrien’s hand. He nipped at the side of Adrien’s throat and rocked back, then gave another sharp thrust. Adrien had to take his hands away to grab the box and get a condom out. The air currents felt like ice on Cristian’s flesh. He sucked at Adrien’s collar, growled low in his throat until Adrien took him in hand again. He stroked Cristian’s cock with quick motions until Cristian gasped and shuddered, fucking into his hand unthinking. When he drew his touch away again, it took a force of will for Cristian not to grab his hand and draw it back, or find some other place on his body to take his pleasure. He held himself up on his arms and watched as Adrien tore the packet open and drew the condom out. He rolled it over Cristian’s cock without preamble and slicked him with lube. Cristian caught him by the wrist and pulled his hand away, then drew his legs up. He slid his cock through the cleft of Adrien’s ass, found the pucker of his anus and angled himself so the head of his cock pressed against the ring of muscle. Adrien hunched forward, his face tucked against Cristian’s chest, gasping hard as Cristian pressed his hips to Adrien’s, nudging deeper, seeking just a little more. When Cristian drew back, Adrien’s fingers dug into his back in the moment before he plunged forward again. Cristian groaned as Adrien tightened around him. The sensation shot through him, made him rock back and fuck into Adrien again. He held himself up on his arms so he could look down at him, taking fierce pleasure in the way Adrien bit down hard on his lower lip, the way every stroke was reflected in his face. 153

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Cristian fucked him hard, relentless, relishing Adrien’s choked cries and ragged gasps, the way he whimpered and clawed at Cristian, rising up to meet each thrust. His cock lay scarlet against his stomach, dripping pre-come from its tip. Cristian reached between them and grasped it, stroked it in time with each thrust. Adrien’s eyes squeezed shut, his mouth gaping open as he shuddered beneath Cristian, jerked, and sprayed jets of semen across his stomach. Cristian leaned over Adrien, adjusting his angle, and pounded into him hard and fast, until his own orgasm crashed over him and he drove his hips tight against Adrien’s, locked deep. Adrien panted beneath him, flushed and limp. Cristian rolled off of him onto his back, trying to catch his own breath. Adrien followed him, turning onto his side and leaning against Cristian, his face against Cristian’s shoulder. Cristian frowned and started to push himself up on an elbow, looking down. Adrien made a small sound and curled into a ball, tucked in against Cristian’s side. He seemed much more at peace now than he had before, but it was still obvious he’d been crying. Cristian lay back down again slowly and sighed as he stared at the ceiling. After a moment, he shifted Adrien off him so he could shuck off his pants completely and dispose of the condom. When he lay back down, he didn’t protest when Adrien curled in against his side again. God, he thought, staring up at nothing. One arm had found its way around Adrien’s shoulders in a way that seemed completely natural. Adrien was half draped across him, his hand curled and tucked against the side of Cristian’s throat, his head tucked against Cristian’s shoulder. He looked very peaceful, and like he’d have no 154

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problem at all just dropping off to sleep. The idea of sleep seemed laughable to Cristian. His mind was in a tumult, his thoughts whirling about and refusing to settle anywhere. The shadows under Adrien’s eyes made it impossible for Cristian to forget the way he’d clutched at him and sobbed like a broken thing. “Adrien.” Adrien murmured a small acknowledgment but didn’t stir. “Are you…all right?” God, what had he been thinking? He hadn’t been, clearly. If he had, he’d never have touched Adrien. This was just going to make a mess for all three of them. And he’d been so tight, and Cristian had been so angry, and he’d hardly even prepared him at all… Adrien rose up a little, blinked his eyes open. He looked at Cristian, and Cristian nearly groaned. It was even more obvious that he was in bad shape. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had a dazed, numb look to him that Cristian didn’t like at all. “Yes,” Adrien said in a small voice. “I’m all right.” He looked like, if Cristian left him alone, he might do something awful like cry himself to sleep. Cristian couldn’t make himself get up and leave. He reached up, wrapped his arms around Adrien’s shoulders again and drew him down. Adrien fit against Cristian easily, and as he lay there, the lines of tension on his face started to ease and smooth away. His breathing shifted to the slower, deeper rhythms of exhausted sleep. Cristian wished he could drift to sleep so easily, but it was elusive. He lay on his back holding Adrien against his side, and stared up at the featureless ceiling overhead and hoped to God that he hadn’t done something irreparable this time. 155

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CHAPTER 8 Neither coffee nor the rare luxury of a solitary morning was enough to cure Felix of the hangover that throbbed within his skull, though he made it a point to indulge himself with both. When the coffee ran dry and the sun had shifted to glare in his eyes, he got to his feet and brought the last cup with him as he stepped off the deck and walked through the property. He could have returned inside, if only to brew another pot, but that seemed bound to result in another conversation. The growing warmth of the morning and the peacefulness of the sun glimmering off the pool held far more draw. He wandered, taking his time, sipping his coffee as he passed in and out of the shade of trees. He’d just come around the side of the building when a rustle in the bushes drew his attention. 156

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He thought it was a bird, or some other animal wandering through, and stopped so that he wouldn’t startle it. But when the rustling came again, the whole bush shook with it. Felix’s brows lowered. He saw a flash of motion—tall, as tall as he was, and a brief reflection of light that made him grimace. And then— Was that a camera? “Excuse me,” Felix snapped, striding forward. “What are you doing sneaking around back here? Come out of there.” The man straightened, turned to Felix, looking startled. He did have a camera in his hands. It looked complicated and expensive. Felix had thought that it might have been one of the guests from the tour group sneaking around, but this man wasn’t anybody he’d seen before. “I’m Nate Hasby, with The Source . I’m a reporter.” “What are you doing here?” Standing there having to deal with this man was only making Felix’s head throb worse, a sharp pain that made him want to snatch the camera out of the man’s hands and dash it to the ground. “This is private property.” “I got a scoop.” The reporter dropped his voice to a hush. “That Adrien Grant himself is here in Caceres. I’m following a lead.” Of course it was something to do with Adrien. Felix nearly walked away in disgust. “What on earth does Adrien Grant have to do with you sneaking through my bushes?” The reporter grinned. “Call it a hunch. Everyone I asked about Adrien Grant in town directed me to the man who owns this place, Cristian Rodríguez.” His gaze slid past Felix to the house. “I’m on to something, I’m sure I am. A secret lover, maybe.” He glanced sideways at Felix. Whatever he saw on Felix’s face made his grin slide right off. “Look, if I find the story I think I will, this is gonna be big. What do you say you pretend you never saw me, and I give 157

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you a cut of what these pictures sell for?” It was too much. Felix sucked in a sharp breath, anger spiking through him. “Cristian Rodríguez is my partner, I’ll have you know, and I don’t know anything about Adrien Grant.” He took the other man by the arm and drew him toward the front. “Keep your money and get off our property.” He released the reporter by the lot, where he surely must have parked his car. “If I see you here again, I’ll see to it you’re brought up on trespassing charges.” The reporter started to scowl. Felix stared him down, unyielding, until at last he relented. “All right, all right, I’m going.” He threw one hand up in a frustrated gesture. “If you change your mind—” “I won’t.” The reporter glanced at him, then shrugged and turned for his car. Felix stood in the driveway and watched until he’d disappeared down the road. Then he sighed and raked his hand through his hair. He was going to have to go back inside, now. If one reporter had caught wind of a story and found his way here, sure as anything there would be more behind him. Felix’s head hurt too much to keep running interference. He returned to the house, dragged himself upstairs and knocked on Adrien’s door. A muffled oath came from within, and then the sound of movement and steps approaching the door. Felix started to dredge up a terse smile for Adrien, but when the door swung open the words he’d been preparing to say tangled in his throat and left him silent. His brain said Adrien, but instinct had Cristy poised on the tip of his tongue. He looked like Cristian, though, in the ways that had nothing at all to do with genetics. In how he carried himself, how his hair had the telltale signs that he’d been dragging 158

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his fingers through it, in the way he looked at Felix as he stood in the doorway. “Cristy?” The other man’s brows lowered, and that look was one hundred percent Cristian. “You don’t know?” “You’re in Adrien’s room. You can’t blame me for being confused.” Felix blew out his breath with irritation. “What are you doing here?” Cristian’s gaze cut sideways. “I was talking to Adrien.” Felix stepped past him, brushing aside the arm Cristian tried to bar him with. “Where is he? I need to—” He froze a step inside the room. A rumpled form lay on the bed, dark hair tousled. The bed sheet skimmed low enough over his hips to prove that he was entirely naked, and to reveal a crimson glow rising up over his hips and stretching toward his back. Horror curdled in Felix’s stomach. “What the hell did you do to him?” Adrien stirred. He pushed up onto an elbow, then rolled onto his side. “Felix?” He rubbed a hand over his eyes and looked around, lost, until his gaze found Felix. Felix’s breath left him on a rush. “Jesus. You look like hell.” He spun on Cristian. “Did you beat him? God. What is wrong with you? This isn’t his fault. None of it is. He’s not to blame for your life, Cristy.” “Felix.” Adrien’s voice climbed, turning sharp with alarm. “Don’t yell at him.” At the same time, Cristian’s brows snapped down and his shoulders drew up. “It’s not like that.” “Don’t tell me that when I can see for myself that it is.” Felix threw a hand out toward Adrien. “You left marks on him, for 159

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God’s sake. I never thought—” “Felix!” He spun around at Adrien’s shout. Adrien had his hands balled on top of the blankets, scowling at Felix as though he was the one who had crossed a line. Before Felix could speak, Cristian brushed past him. He dropped down onto the mattress at Adrien’s side and put one hand on his cheek, pushed Adrien’s hair out of his face with the other. He made low, soothing noises, then snapped over his shoulder, “Stop it. You’re upsetting him.” Felix crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Cristian. “I’m upsetting him? You beat him.” Adrien pulled away from Cristian’s touch. “I beat you,” he said. “I asked you to,” Felix snapped, then brought himself up short. He stared at Cristian, then at Adrien. “You asked him to beat you?” “Shoved the paddle in my hand and dared me to, more like,” Cristian murmured, a frown furrowing his brow. “Did he ask you to fuck him, too?” Felix demanded. Cristian tensed. Adrien grew still, his gaze flicking sideways to Felix. “Yes,” he said at last. “I did. I don’t think any of us are in a position to be throwing stones.” Felix pressed his fingers to the corners of his eyes. God. I don’t know what to do with either of them. He felt like he ought to be angry—furious, even—at one or maybe both of them. But with the hangover still throbbing in his skull, he didn’t have the wherewithal for another fight. He threw a hand up, forestalling them both. “Neither of you make any sense to me at all, but forget it. I don’t care.” He rose and headed for the door. “Felix,” Cristian called after him. 160

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“No. You two can beat one another black and blue for all I care. I can’t do this right now.” “I thought you wanted to talk to Adrien.” Felix stopped, one hand on the door frame. He shut his eyes, drew a deep breath. “I did. I do.” He turned around. “Adrien, there was a photographer lurking around outside, looking for you.” “What?” Adrien dropped his hands and stared at Felix, dismayed. “They found me? Oh fuck.” “You don’t need to worry about him. I kicked him off our land and threatened to break his camera if he came back.” Adrien leaned his head in his hands and thrust his fingers through his hair. “You don’t understand. If they know where I am, then it’s only a matter of time until they’re beating down the door. God, Amber’s going to kill me. I can’t believe she hasn’t called me.” “She did,” Cristian said. They both turned to look at him. He’d dug Adrien’s phone out of his pants, had it in his hand and was frowning at the display. “About a dozen times. Did you forget to sync it to the room system? You’ve got voice mail, and— Oh, there she is again.” Cristian sent Adrien a considering look, then punched a button on the phone and lifted it to his ear. “Hello? Is this—” He recoiled almost immediately, pulling the phone away and frowning at it. Even across the room, Felix could hear the voice coming through the line, clearly loud and clearly angry. Cristian met Felix’s gaze for a moment, then moved it to Adrien. He stared at the phone as though it were a viper. But when Cristian caught his eye, he licked his lips and held his hand out for the phone. Cristian held it to his ear again. “Ms. Collins? No, this is 161

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Cristian Rodríguez. That’s right, we spoke last week, when I took your reservation. Hold on, Adrien’s here. I’ll put him on.” Even as he handed the phone over, Cristian seemed reluctant to give it up. Adrien took it from him and drew his legs up to his chest. He wrapped one arm around his calves and leaned his chin on his knees. “Amber? What’s— Oh, I— But…” He sighed and passed a hand over his face as Amber’s voice blared through the line. His voice dropped. “No. I don’t know.” Felix moved toward the door. Whatever was going on between them, he just wanted to leave them to it. But the longer Adrien spoke with Amber, the quieter he became, until he was hardly talking at all. Felix hesitated, watching and unsure what to do with himself. It was a dreadful thing to witness the way Adrien hunched over, the way he flinched when a particularly sharp word came through the line. He didn’t look at Felix or Cristian, but occasionally his gaze slid around the room, searching for something. Escape, maybe. “Amber!” Adrien’s sudden cry made both Felix and Cristian snap around to face him. “Amber, no— God. But I’ve never even met her! I don’t want— It’s not—” A blast of noise came from the other end of the line. Adrien’s lips parted but he didn’t make a sound. He dropped his head back, looked about blindly. He looked like a man in torment, agonized, hopeless. “Amber,” he said again, very quietly. “Amber, I have to go. No, I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you later.” He ended the call and put the phone down on the blankets. Felix leaned his shoulders against the wall, vacillating between asking what Amber had said and just leaving before he got dragged deeper into any of it. Adrien didn’t look at either of them, he just curled into a tight ball and lay 162

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his head down on his arms. His hair fell forward, obscuring his face. He drew a ragged, watery breath, and then another. He sounded like he was crying. Felix took a step toward him, but hesitated. Whatever had happened…what was there to do, or say? He looked at Cristian, who looked just as helpless and overwhelmed as Felix, staring down at Adrien in apprehension. Cristian looked up and saw Felix watching him. He edged backward. “I’ll get him some water.” He headed for the bathroom before Felix could speak. Felix sat carefully on the edge of the bed. “Adrien,” he said quietly. “What is it? It’s not just the reporters, is it?” Adrien curled in tighter on himself and just kept crying. Instinctively, Felix reached for him. But Adrien’s bowed back displayed its marks prominently, and Felix hesitated, afraid it would only hurt him. Finally, frustrated beyond bearing at his own helplessness, he moved to sit next to Adrien and slid his hand over the back of Adrien’s neck, where there were no marks. He intended it to be a gentle touch, meant it to encourage Adrien to lean in and take solace in his company. He’d comforted Cristian many a time in just such a way, when his mood had been too bleak for conversation. It usually helped Cristian, but as soon as Felix touched him, Adrien drew away. He unfolded, straightened, sitting upright. He cheeks were wet with tears, but he wiped them dry. He fisted his hands in the hair at the back of his neck and pulled on it, then drew a long, ragged breath. “It’s not the reporters,” he said. “Jon’s making a mess of things back home.” Felix sat back and stared at Adrien, stunned by the 163

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transformation, the way Adrien had seemed to pull a mask on over his distress, as easy as breathing. He’d spent years watching Cristian do the same thing, pulling on armor to fool the world into thinking he was fine when he wasn’t, when the truth was that he was falling apart inside. He’d thought it was something peculiar to Cristian, but here was Adrien going through the same motions. There were differences, of course. Cristian shielded himself behind a cold, stony reserve so that he seemed like an automaton sometimes, going through the motions and feeling nothing at all. Adrien’s armor was in the lift of his brow, the angle of his mouth, the way his whole expression seemed to convey an attitude that the world wasn’t as serious as everyone made it out to be, and he was just in it for the kicks. “Who’s Jon?” Cristian asked as he came back into the bedroom with a glass of water and a bundle of damp hand towels. “A mistake.” Adrien took the glass and drank a third of it, then grimaced. “A guy I had a fling with, who thought that it was something more. Now he’s running around outing me to anybody who’ll stand still long enough to listen, to get back at me.” “And Amber?” Cristian gestured to the bed. “Lie down, on your stomach.” Adrien eyed the towels in Cristian’s hands. His mouth turned up at one corner, a wry grin that Felix didn’t buy for an instant. “You’re going to get my bed wet,” he protested. “I have to sleep in here tonight, you know.” Cristian gave him a stern look. “Lie down.” Adrien rocked back and raised an eyebrow at Cristian, like he couldn’t believe the other man was giving him orders and expecting him to obey. Felix was startled by it, too, but he was even more surprised when, after that one look, Adrien shrugged 164

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and rolled over to stretch out on his stomach. He crossed his arms under his cheek, his face turned toward both of them. “Amber’s freaking out, of course.” He hissed in a sharp breath when Cristian lay the first towel over his back. “Christ, what’d you do, soak it in ice water?” Cristian made a sound low in his throat and pushed on Adrien’s shoulder. “Stop that. It’ll help.” Adrien settled back down at Cristian’s direction, and it was no less amazing than it had been the first time. Felix watched in wonder, shaking his head. “Why’s Amber worried?” he asked while Cristian laid the strips out across Adrien’s back. “I can’t open my datascreen without running across some new and lascivious rumor about you. That’s nothing new.” Adrien made a sound that Felix took for acknowledgment. “Yes, well. People don’t stop seeing my vids because there’s a rumor going around that I’m banging some up-and-coming Hollywood starlet.” Felix waited when Adrien stopped speaking, expecting him to continue. When it seemed like he didn’t intend to, Felix prompted, “But they will if they hear these rumors?” Adrien’s brows lowered. When Cristian put the next cold towel across the small of his back, he hissed and tensed, rising off the bed. When he settled back down, it was with his head on his arms, his face hidden. His words came muffled. “It’s only the trash mags now, and everyone knows they’re full of shit, but the others will catch on to the story soon enough. That’s when the trouble starts. They’re the ones people pay attention to, and take as gospel. Makes it hard for women to get immersed in the holo experience when they know I’d rather be fucking a guy.” 165

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Felix was startled silent for a moment. “I wouldn’t know,” he said at last. “Does it? Isn’t that the whole point of acting? To convincingly pretend you’re someone you’re not?” “Mmm,” Adrien murmured, which might have meant anything. “In theory, but the numbers say otherwise. It is possible to be an actor, and be out, and be successful. But it’s too late for that. My whole career’s built on sex appeal.” “How’s that feel?” Cristian asked before Felix could voice another question. Adrien lifted his head to shoot Cristian a wry glance over his shoulder. “Like I’ve been swimming about in the Arctic, thanks.” Cristian’s expression flattened even farther. “I’ve got a gel that will help with bruising,” he said with exaggerated slowness, like he was speaking to a child. “But if you need the towels on a little longer—” “Oh, God, by all means, take them off. I’d prefer not to turn into a Popsicle.” Felix took the towels from Cristian as he removed them, so they wouldn’t get Adrien’s bed wet, and carried them into the bathroom to hang over the shower rod. When he returned to the bedroom, Cristian was very tenderly spreading a clear gel onto Adrien’s back. Felix stopped in the doorway, watching as Cristian drew his fingers over the marks, frowning very faintly. He’d never have anticipated any of this. Not that Cristian would fuck Adrien, or beat him, or that afterward he’d be like someone else entirely, kind and protective and concerned. What on earth happened between them? Felix wondered again. And why had Adrien looked like he’d been put through the wringer when Felix woke him? 166

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“But you’ve dealt with rumors that could have derailed your career before,” Felix said from the doorway. Adrien turned his head to look at him. “Maybe not as often as the ones that don’t matter, but I’m sure you have. Surely your agent has some idea of how to handle a situation like this.” “Amber’s got an idea, all right,” Adrien said darkly, softly. “That’s the problem.” Felix just watched him, waiting for elaboration. “She wants me to marry Juliette Halles,” he said at last. Felix’s brows shot up. Even Cristian’s hands hesitated on Adrien’s back. “The supermodel?” “Yeah.” Adrien lay his head down on his arms again. “That’s the one.” “She doesn’t know that the rumors are true? That you really are gay?” Adrien was quiet for a moment. He chewed on his lip as a shadow passed across his expression. “She knows.” Cristian stopped his ministrations. His head snapped up. “Excuse me?” Adrien shifted, freeing a hand so he could rub at his eyes. “She knows,” he repeated. “It doesn’t matter.” “She knows you’re gay and she’s trying to get you to marry some woman anyway?” Felix demanded, irate. “For publicity? Jesus, Adrien.” “It’s…” Adrien made a frustrated gesture. “She doesn’t care who I sleep with, or who I want to sleep with, except when it affects my career. Sleeping with Jon fucked things up. Marrying Juliette is damage control. It’ll take the wind out of their sails if the mags go and announce that I’m gay after Juliette and I have announced our engagement.” 167

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Felix rocked back on his heels, staring at Adrien. “You sound like you’re really thinking about it. You can’t do that.” “Sure I can.” His voice sounded flat, lifeless. “It’s not like she’s under some delusion that I’d be marrying her for love. She doesn’t love me, either, but Amber says she’s carrying her clone and there’s bound to be scandal about that, when it gets out. If we got married, no one would stop to ask who the father is. It’d be good for both of us.” “Good? It’s horrific.” Adrien shrugged and laid his head down again. “It’s just business.” “Living with a woman you’ve never even met? That’s business? You don’t even know her.” Adrien flinched as Felix echoed his own words back at him. “You might not get on at all.” “She’s a supermodel. I’m an actor.” Tension rippled down Adrien’s back as he buried his face in his arms. “We’ve got busy schedules, running about all over the world. We’re not going to have to spend that much time together.” Felix stared at him with an odd mix of horror and sympathy. “And you’re okay with living the rest of your life in a lie?” “It’s better than the alternative.” He sounded like he meant it, like he didn’t care at all. But Felix remembered how he’d cried when he’d hung up with Amber. He didn’t mean it. Felix was sure of it. Cristian set down the gel he’d been using on Adrien’s back and came around to frown down at him. “That is the stupidest reason I’ve ever heard for marrying someone. You’re going to throw away your whole life for your stupid career? God. Is your fame that important to you? No career’s worth that. You’d be better off flipping burgers at a fast food joint than signing your life away for 168

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the sake of some bullshit the numbers are telling you.” He snatched the phone up from where Adrien had dropped it and slapped it down near Adrien’s hand. “You call Amber back and tell her that.” “No.” Adrien threw the phone away from him and spun, shying back from Cristian. “I love acting. I’m not giving it up. Losing my career would make me miserable, more than pretending to be married to someone would.” His breath started to hitch again, desperation shining in his eyes. “There’s no other way.” Felix moved forward instinctively, afraid that Cristian would say something he couldn’t take back, that Adrien would crumble again. It was awful to watch Adrien hide behind his defenses, but it had been worse to see him fall apart. Cristian didn’t say anything, though, not at first. He just looked at Adrien, then picked up the bottle of gel again. “Come back here. I’m not finished yet.” Adrien let himself be coaxed back reluctantly, like a skittish creature expecting danger at any moment. But Cristian got him stretched out on his stomach again with low, quiet words and gentle insistence, and he resumed spreading the gel over Adrien’s abused flesh. Felix watched, wishing they were alone so he could ask what had happened between them to cause this change, this patience and tenderness he was suddenly showing for Adrien. But it would have to wait. He held his tongue and watched Cristian rub the ointment into Adrien’s skin. When he was done, Cristian put the bottle on the nightstand and slid off the bed. He looked down at Adrien’s prone form. Adrien lay his head down on the mattress but otherwise didn’t move. “Adrien.” Cristian’s voice was suddenly hard, unyielding. “Get 169

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up. Put some clothes on. You’re coming downstairs with me.” Adrien rolled over and looked at Cristian in confusion. “What?” “I said, you’re going to come downstairs and help me.” He gestured to the dresser. “Get dressed.” Felix arched an eyebrow, watching the exchange, waiting for Adrien to toss his head and make some glib comment. But Adrien just looked at Cristian, then said, “All right,” and slid off the bed. Felix’s brow climbed higher as he watched Adrien cross the room and pull clothes out from the dresser. He’d never have expected Adrien to obey so completely, without even a sarcastic retort. Felix glanced at Cristian and found him watching Adrien with the same startled look, like when he’d given the command he’d never expected Adrien to actually do it. Cristian glanced up and caught Felix looking at him. He shrugged as though to say, What the hell? Who’d have thought? And then Adrien was clothed and slipping his feet into sandals, looking to Cristian expectantly. Cristian tore his gaze away from Felix and turned his attention back to Adrien. “Come on,” he said, ushering him to the door. “We’ve got food to prep for tomorrow, and not long before the bus group gets back from their tour of the countryside. I’m putting you to work.” Adrien let Cristian guide him out of the bedroom and into the hall. Felix followed behind them both, and shut the door behind them. He followed the other two down the stairs, mystified by all of it.

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CHAPTER 9 Downstairs, Cristian set Adrien to making bread, then looked to Felix. “Will you come with me? His car’s still at the club. If we leave now, we can be back before the tour group returns for dinner.” Felix’s gaze flicked up from his datascreen. He gave Cristian a long, hard stare, silent. Cristian didn’t dare speak. At length, Felix flicked the ’screen and pushed back from the counter. “Fine.” He snatched the keys off their hook and threw them at Cristian. “You’re driving.” The trip passed in strained silence. Felix stared out the window and didn’t speak a word. Cristian glanced sidelong at him as he drove, hating the tension that filled the air between them. “Felix,” Cristian quietly when he couldn’t endure it any longer. 171

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Felix glanced at him. “Please. I’m sorry—” Felix’s gaze hardened, his lips pressing into a thin line. It was all Cristian needed to know that this had been a mistake, but there was no way to take the words back now. “I’m not talking about this right now,” Felix said, his voice hard. “I’m not ready to even begin to talk about it yet.” He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, staring out at the roadside flashing by. “Jesus, Cristy, I know the two of you have issues, but he’s a paying guest. What the hell are you doing making him work? What happened between you two?” Cristian opened his mouth, shut it before the torrent of words in him could burst out. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.” Felix blew his breath out sharply. “I don’t.” He started to turn away, to close off again. Cristian couldn’t bear it. “Felix…” Cristian pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned toward him. He reached, but stopped at the look Felix sent him, like a wall between them. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I love you, Felix. Please, I don’t mean—” Felix withdrew, twisting and pressing his back against the door to put more distance between them. “I do not want to talk about us right now, Cristian.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “Not tonight. Maybe not until the tour group leaves for Sevilla tomorrow and we have our home back. Not now.” Cristian stared at him for a long moment, but Felix turned to face straight ahead and his gaze didn’t waver. At length, Cristian sighed and started the car again. They found Adrien’s car and switched positions. “You can drive his back,” Felix said. “It’s already adjusted for your height.” 172

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Cristian started to comment, then stopped himself. It was a ten minute drive either way. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t worth another fight, or more of Felix’s icy silence. They caravanned back together, and Cristian walked through the door with Felix practically on his heels, but still without speaking. Adrien greeted them, but Felix scarcely spared him a glance before he disappeared upstairs, stalking off like he couldn’t get away from either of them fast enough. Adrien stared after him, fidgeting with the hand towel he’d draped over the rising dough. “He’s mad,” he said quietly. He sought out Cristian’s gaze. “About this afternoon?” “No,” Cristian assured him quickly. But Adrien’s skeptical look cut him off. “I don’t know. Maybe. He’s mad at me, not you.” “Oh,” Adrien said. Then, rushed, as though coming to a decision, “I should go talk to him. I’ll explain it.” He started out of the kitchen. “No, don’t.” Cristian grabbed him by the arm. Adrien’s gaze flew up to his, startled. “Give him time.” Adrien scowled at the idea. “But—” Something deep in Cristian’s chest twisted. If Adrien rushed off and pushed Felix on the matter when he wasn’t ready to talk, it wouldn’t help anything. It would just make things worse for Cristian. Maybe it would break them completely. “Please don’t. I know Felix. Trust me.” Slowly, Adrien relaxed and relented. He still looked unhappy about the whole situation. His brows drew together, his expression turning moody. His gaze slid away, drew inward, too much like it had been earlier, up in his room when he’d taken Amber’s call and fallen to pieces in front of them. “Adrien.” Cristian’s heart gave two heavy thumps beneath his 173

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breast. He spoke too fast, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “People should be arriving for dinner soon. Go carry the plates out to the buffet, will you?” Adrien’s unhappiness settled down as he turned his attention to the task, as Cristian had hoped it would. He wasn’t foolish enough to think that it had disappeared entirely simply by virtue of having a job to do, but keeping his hands busy did seem to help. He wandered out to the dining room to oversee while Adrien carried out stacks of plates, then silverware and napkins as well. He moved between dining room and kitchen as though he’d been busing tables for years. Not at all like a spoiled rich kid who’d probably never had to wash his own plate in his entire life. Adrien was carting out an armful of glasses when Felix found them. He leaned a hip against the buffet and watched Adrien coming and going through a furrowed brow. He glanced at Cristian once, and he didn’t speak to him, but his expression said plain as day, Jesus, Cristy, what the hell? Cristian bit on his lip and let his gaze track Adrien across the dining room, until he disappeared through the door into the kitchen. “I think it helps,” he said without looking at Felix. He feared what he might see there, or what he might not. “He’s on vacation here, and he didn’t even make any plans beyond booking the room. He’s got nothing to do but stew over this mess. I think it helps him, to have something to keep him busy.” Reluctantly, apprehensive but too agonized not to, Cristian looked back at Felix, hoping for any clue as to what he was thinking. Felix looked straight at him without any expression at all for a long moment. “You’re trying to help him?” There was something in the way he said it that made Cristian 174

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feel like he’d suddenly been put under a microscope. He shifted uncomfortably, frowned as he answered, “It’s better than letting him sob his heart out upstairs, isn’t it?” Felix once again didn’t say anything for a minute. He braced his elbows on the table leaned his chin on his fists, watching Cristian closely. “Who are you,” he said at last, “and what have you done with my Cristy?” Cristian scowled and turned away, arms folding across his chest. “You don’t have to mock me.” Felix sat back and angled his head to the side as he watched Cristian. “It’s still not exactly solving his problem, is it?” “I can’t do that.” Cristian turned on his heel and strode back into the kitchen. “I can only help.” Felix made a noncommittal sound, and didn’t say anything else until Adrien passed them, laden down with more wineglasses than one man should have been able to carry. “Adrien,” Felix called out to him. “Why’d you get into acting, anyway?” Adrien faltered at Felix’s question. “It’s what both my parents did. You know that.” Felix made a face and waved his hand dismissively. “I do know that. That’s not what I mean. Maybe that’s why you dipped your toes into it as a kid with Wunderkind, but that’s not why you’re still at it now, twenty-odd years later.” He raised a brow. “That’s not why you love it so much you’d consent to a marriage of convenience to keep it.” Unhappiness shuttered down over Adrien’s expression at the reminder. Cristian bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, struggling against the urge to snap at Felix for reminding him, when Cristian had been trying so hard to keep him distracted. 175

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“It’s fun,” Adrien said. “It’s like a vacation. I get to spend a little time being someone I’m not, doing things I wouldn’t do. I can forget about whatever’s stressing me out for a little while, when I immerse myself in the character’s troubles.” “Is that what you’re going to do?” Felix asked him softly. “Immerse yourself in work so you can forget about the fact that you’re in a loveless marriage with a woman you don’t even know? God, Adrien.” Felix pressed his thumbs to the center of his forehead. “You’re like the epitome of a carefree existence, and you’re going to throw it all away and turn into one of those workaholics who doesn’t know what to do with himself when he’s not on the job. What’s the point of saving your career if that’s what it’s going to turn into?” Adrien’s expression hardened, closing off. “You don’t get to say whether that’s an acceptable trade or not for me. It’s my choice.” Felix inclined his head in acknowledgment. “But I can say that I can see it’s making you miserable already, and you haven’t even agreed to marry her yet.” “It’s not making me miserable,” Adrien snapped. “I just don’t like people prying into my business and thinking they get to have a say in it.” He spun and stalked out of the kitchen with the wineglasses. Cristian hurried after him, but Felix said, “No, let him.” He spun back to glare at Felix. “What’d you have to go and do that for? He wasn’t miserable, but he sure is now! God, Felix, if you’re pissed at me for fucking him, fine, but there’s no reason to rub salt into his wounds.” Felix met his gaze without flinching. “I’m not punishing him. He can bury his head in the sand now, but it’s not going to protect 176

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him when he goes back home and has to face this situation he’s getting himself into. I know what you were trying to do, and it was very kind of you. But helping him to hide from reality isn’t doing him any favors. If he’s going to make this decision, he’d better make it with his eyes open.” He paused, drew a deep breath. “And I am angry, yes, but not about what the two of you did together.” Cristian felt like a weight had been dropped into his gut. “Felix.” He reached for him, but Felix shied away again, and left Cristian standing there miserably, staring after him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing it wasn’t enough, but it was all he had. Felix crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.” “Don’t I?” Cristian’s voice snapped with anger. “I’m not a complete idiot. I know I said awful things to you—” Felix’s expression changed, but before he could speak, even before Cristian could continue, his gaze flicked over Cristian’s shoulder and his expression shifted again. Cristian turned to see what he was looking at. Adrien stood just inside the kitchen doorway. He looked like he’d just been shot in the gut. Cristian was moving toward him before he recognized the thought. “What is it?” Adrien looked at him. He held his datascreen out to Cristian without a word. Cristian took it and looked at the screen. It was one of those damned trash mags again, and any other time, Cristian would have naturally assumed—like anybody else—that the lead picture was of Adrien. It was Adrien’s rental car in the picture, but Cristian knew he was the one behind the wheel. He was still wearing the same clothes in the photograph. 177

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“Jesus, they don’t waste any time, do they?” He glanced up at Adrien and tried to offer a smile. “You already knew they’d found you here. I suppose something like this was only a matter of time.” “That’s not all of it,” Adrien said miserably. “Scroll down.” Cristian obeyed. The article’s headline proclaimed, “Adrien Grant’s Double Life.” Only slightly smaller font beneath that promised, “Exclusive Photos with his Secret Spanish Lover.” Cristian’s gaze flew up to Adrien, then just as quickly back to the screen. He followed the link, and it brought up a page full of speculation about Adrien’s reasons for being in Spain. Photographs filled the screen, and Cristian’s stomach churned as he realized that they weren’t of Adrien, they were of him. Some of them were old—in one, he wore a shirt that Felix had made him throw out over a year before—and all of them caught him holding hands with, embracing, or kissing Felix. “Oh, hell.” Cristian sighed. He turned the datascreen for Felix to see, so he didn’t have to strain to look over Cristian’s shoulder. Felix looked over the ’screen. His lips twitched, and then he started laughing. Adrien stared at him, taken aback. “Oh, come on,” Felix said, handing it back to him. “You have to admit, it’s a bit farcical.” “No, it isn’t. It’s not funny at all.” Adrien ran a hand over his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. “Amber’s going to have a heart attack.” As though summoned by the thought, Adrien’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the display like it was a viper, and he wanted nothing better than to run as fast and as far as his feet would carry him. “Is that her?” Cristian asked. Adrien sighed. “Yeah.” He reached reluctantly to accept the 178

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call. “She’s gonna be livid.” Cristian grabbed the phone from Adrien’s hand before he could do anything with it. A quick glance confirmed the source of the call, and then he punched accept and pressed the phone to his ear. “Amber?” “Jesus.” Adrien lunged for him, but Cristian twisted out of the way easily. “Give that back. God!” Cristian held up a hand to quiet him and listened to Amber’s tirade blaring through the phone’s speaker. She was off on a roll, and he waited quietly, letting her have her say. “It’s four in the morning here, do you realize that, Adrien? Jesus, sending you to Spain was supposed to give me a chance to kill these rumors, not inundate me with a million more. You know better than to run around in public locking lips with some guy!” When she paused to draw a breath, Cristian took the opportunity to speak. “Miss Collins, this is Cristian Rodríguez. Adrien’s not available right now.” There was a breath of silence, then Amber snapped, “You tell him he needs to make himself available.” “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Adrien tried to get to him again, to take the phone. Cristian evaded him, ducking around the counter and into the kitchen. “He wouldn’t tell you this, but Adrien’s having rather a difficult time of it over here. So I’m holding on to his phone for the time being, and he’s not getting it back until he’s had at least a full night’s sleep and a decent breakfast. I might just keep it until he checks out.” “Mr. Rodríguez.” Amber’s voice lashed with anger. “I’m sure Adrien appreciates your concern, but you have no idea what this could mean for his career. It is vital that I speak with him.” “What I know, Ms. Collins, is that you’re Adrien’s agent, and 179

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he pays you to take care of these things. It’s your job. So long as he’s here, it’s my job to take care of him, and I intend to earn my pay.” He hung up before Amber could retort. Adrien stared at him like he was a ghost, or some other apparition appeared before his eyes. “God,” he breathed. “If Amber hasn’t already had that heart attack, I’m sure she is now.” He reached for his phone. Cristian held it out of Adrien’s reached. It started ringing again, Amber’s name and number blazing across the screen. Cristian switched the phone off and slipped it into his pocket. Adrien reached again, like he expected Cristian to relent and admit he was just playing around. “You can’t do that. I have to—” “You have to take care of yourself, is what.” Cristian met his gaze, unyielding. “And I meant every word I said. Eight hours of sleep, minimum, and then maybe I’ll give it back.” Adrien’s mouth fell open. He stared at Cristian, and then at Felix, as though Felix could put a stop to it. Felix’s expression was unreadable, even for Cristian. It might have meant anything. But he didn’t try to tell Cristian to give the phone back, he just shrugged. Adrien turned back to Cristian, his gaze imploring and desperate. “Please—” “No.” Cristian shook his head. “I’m not going to watch you run yourself into the ground.” Adrien sank down onto one of the stools at the counter and leaned his head in his hands. “God,” he muttered. “I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t fly out here herself and skin me alive.” “Don’t be silly,” Cristian told him. Felix moved away from the counter and came around into the kitchen. Cristian ignored him as he rummaged through the cabinets behind him. “She’s not going to 180

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take a six hour flight just to wag her finger at you. What’s the worst that can happen?” Adrien looked up at him miserably. “She could fire me.” “No way.” Cristian scoffed. “Adrien… Do you not realize how valuable you are? Your last movie was awful, you know”—Adrien grimaced in acknowledgment—“and it still grossed more than the next three biggest blockbusters combined. You’re making her money, and she’s not going to walk away from that just because you’re causing her a little aggravation. I meant what I told her— that’s why she earns what she does. It’s her job.” “I— But—” Adrien looked up at him in bewilderment. “You’ve been keeping track of my vids?” “Stalking them, more like,” Felix said as he joined them at the counter. He pushed a glass of something that smelled overpoweringly of alcohol across to Adrien, then shot Cristian a wry look. “And he promised he was going to stop.” Cristian’s face heated, but he said nothing, just offered Felix a chagrined grimace in return. Adrien took the drink and considered it. “What’s this for?” “I figured you needed it,” Felix told him simply. “Was I wrong?” Adrien shook his head, and didn’t give the drink back. He took a long drink, then set the glass down and sent Felix a bemused look. “Is this another instance of you being preternaturally insightful because you know Cristy so well?” Felix looked surprised by the suggestion. “No. Cristy’s not a big drinker.” He gave Adrien a lopsided smile. “This is just me paying attention.” Adrien looked more startled by the idea than it seemed to warrant. He picked the glass up again, drained it. Felix watched 181

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him in silence a moment. “Do you want another?” Adrien shook his head. He leaned his brow against his hands for a moment, slumped forward so he looked like the picture of dejection. “Yes,” he muttered. “But no. I’m fine.” Cristian watched him closely, and thought he was anything but fine. He glanced at Felix over Adrien’s head, but Felix looked just as lost as to what to do about it as he was. Adrien lifted his head and stared off into the distance. Cristian watched him swirl the ice around his glass. “I think I’ll go take a swim,” he said at last, decisively. “It’d be a shame not to take advantage of such a lovely pool.” “That sounds wonderful. Maybe I’ll join you,” Felix said, at the same time that Cristian said, “It’s just about time to lock it up for the night, anyway. I’ll close it up behind you, so you won’t be disturbed.” Adrien glanced at them both, looking uncertain, like he suspected maybe there was something going on beneath their words that he hadn’t caught onto yet, but he couldn’t figure out what. Cristian had to fight to return his look evenly, not to glance at Felix and share a smile over the fact that they’d both had the same thought. “All right,” Adrien said slowly, looking at Felix. “Do you need to get your swim trunks?” Felix seemed reluctant to leave Adrien alone. Cristian couldn’t blame him—he was, too. He spoke into the silence that stretched out between them. “Sometimes, when it’s after-hours for the pool, Felix and I will just go skinny dipping,” he suggested. Adrien stared at him as though shocked by the suggestion. Felix sent him an arch look and said, “Don’t tell me you’re getting modest. I’ve seen some of those photo shoots you’ve done, you 182

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know. Millions of people have, but now you’re afraid to drop your pants in front of some guy you’ve already fucked?” His brows arched high in skepticism. “Don’t tell me you, of all people, are turning shy.” Adrien scowled. “It’s not that,” he snapped. Felix just waited, and Cristian glanced between them, wondering what reason Adrien would give. But he didn’t give any at all, just spun and stalked away. Cristian hurried after him. Felix was following at his side. Cristian glanced sidelong at him and said, “You don’t have to tease him.” Felix faltered, looking at him in surprise. “He doesn’t like being mocked any more than I do.” The corners of Felix’s mouth turned up. “You’re the expert on Adrien Grant now, are you?” Cristian didn’t have to say anything in response to that. He’d spent enough time obsessing over the other man’s career that he probably knew him as well as anyone who wasn’t a close, personal friend could. Felix knew that, of course. God knew, he’d scolded Cristian for it often enough. Felix just liked to tease. Cristian was used to it; Adrien wasn’t. They followed Adrien out back. Cristian locked the gate behind them while the other two stood at the edge of the pool. The sky was dark overhead, and the pool seemed to glow with the underwater lights that illuminated it. Felix shed his clothes and tossed them onto one of the deck chairs, where they wouldn’t get soaked by any wayward splashing. Adrien glanced at him and started following suit, as though he didn’t want to be outdone. Felix dove into the pool, as sleek as an arrow. When he surfaced, he laughed up at Adrien and taunted him. “You’re not 183

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afraid you’ll fail to measure up, are you?” he teased, a mischievous light in his eye. “The water is a little chilly, I’ll grant you that…” Adrien scraped him with an arch look. “I’ve seen you both. I know without a doubt I’ve got no reason to worry.” Cristian undressed by the deck chairs, careful to tuck his clothes away where they wouldn’t get wet. He still had Adrien’s phone in his pocket, after all. Not that the idea of drowning it and ensuring a little peace wasn’t tempting, but he doubted Adrien would have thanked him. Adrien did a cannonball into the pool. Cristian sat at the edge and dangled his feet into the water. When Adrien demanded to know what he was doing, he answered, “It is chilly. I’m getting used to the water.” “Chicken.” Adrien laughed and splashed a great sheet of water at him. “There. Now there’s no point. Get in.” Cristian wiped the water from his face and glared. Behind him, Felix grinned, clearly trying not to laugh. “Do that again,” Cristian warned, “and I’ll steal your clothes and take them back inside.” “What, so I’ll have to walk back inside naked?” Adrien pushed his dripping hair off his brow. “Despite what your boyfriend thinks, I’m not terribly modest. You think I wouldn’t do it, just to deny you the satisfaction of having inconvenienced me?” “Not if there was any chance of it getting back to Amber, you wouldn’t.” Adrien grimaced, and Cristian regretted that he’d brought that back up again, when Adrien had seemed to be enjoying himself. He slipped off the edge of the pool into the water, and when he came up, said, “There. Splash me all you like.” Adrien did, watching Cristian’s face curiously as though testing whether Cristian really meant it. Cristian blinked the water from 184

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his eyes and didn’t complain. Adrien laughed and did it again, then started to paddle backward away from them. “If you can catch me, you can splash me back.” “Are you kidding? I’m not stupid. You probably swim a million laps a day.” “Don’t be silly,” Adrien said. “Only about half a million. And besides, I’ve been slacking off for days now. I’m totally out of practice.” “Oh, stop bragging,” Felix called to him. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and show off some of these skills of yours.” He gestured to the other side of the pool. “Bet you can’t swim there and back without taking a breath.” Adrien’s brows knit. “I’m not going to take that bet. If you’re going to give me a dare, you could at least make it worth my while.” Felix grinned at him. “Not enough of a challenge?” “Hardly a challenge at all,” Adrien scoffed. “Even you could swim two laps without taking a breath, I bet.” “Your faith is touching,” Felix said dryly. “All right, then. How many laps can you do?” Adrien tilted his head to the side as though thinking about it. A drop of water slid down his brow, across his cheek. “Half a dozen, easy.” Felix treaded water, keeping himself in place and his head up. He gestured to the far end of the pool with his chin. “Swim eight, then, and maybe I’ll be impressed.” Adrien grinned, his face alight with the challenge. “If I swim eight, do I win something?” “Sure.” Felix laughed. “Whatever you want.” Adrien took off without another word, swimming toward the 185

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far wall with long, powerful strokes. Felix swam over to Cristian’s side, and they both watched him until he reached the other side and somersaulted to turn around and come back. “If he kills himself trying to hold his breath through eight laps…” Felix laughed. “He’s not going to kill himself. He’ll just pout and demand a rematch if he doesn’t make it.” Reluctantly, Cristian dragged his attention away from Adrien, and turned to look at Felix. “What’s the point? That comment he made— You’re not really threatened by him, are you?” “No, I’m not.” To Cristian’s relief, Felix looked as though he meant it. He gestured toward Adrien, who was swimming past them and raising up great splashes of water as he kicked and swam. “But it gives him something to focus on other than Amber.” He caught Cristian’s eye. “That’s what you were doing with putting him to work in the kitchen, isn’t it? It worked then.” Cristian smiled and started to relax. Then Felix said, “Speaking of Amber. God.” He laughed and shook his head. “I can’t believe that stunt you pulled with his phone.” Cristian tensed again. He frowned at Felix, trying to make out from his expression what that meant. “Is that… Should I not have?” Felix’s brows lifted. He looked at Cristian in surprise. “That’s not what I meant at all. Cristy, it was wonderful.” “Oh.” Behind him, Adrien swam by again, splashing wildly, but Cristian didn’t spare a thought for him at all because Felix was slipping through the water, moving closer, looking at him like he didn’t hate him, like maybe whatever he’d broken between them wasn’t damaged beyond repair. Cristian reached for him, and Felix slipped into his arms. He let Cristian draw him in close, and looped 186

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his arms around Cristian’s shoulders to keep him there. “Felix,” Cristian murmured, brushing wet hair off of his cheek. Felix tipped his head to the side, watched Cristian with humor bright in his gaze. “Cristy,” he parodied in answer. Cristian had tried to kiss him earlier, and Felix had shied away. He wanted desperately to kiss him now, but even with the smile lurking on Felix’s expression, he feared being rebuffed again. He hated when Felix was upset with him, though if he said as much Felix just would have laughed and said, “Well, that’s easy enough to prevent. Just stop doing stupid shit that pisses me off.” Slowly, Cristian leaned forward. He slid his hands higher on Felix’s back to draw him in close. His heart pounded beneath his breast. But Felix didn’t push him away. He tightened his arms around Cristian’s shoulders and pulled him closer, drew himself up out of the water a little so that their mouths met, their lips brushed. Cristian slid a hand up through Felix’s hair to cup the back of his head. Felix parted his lips for him, slid his tongue out to meet Cristian’s. The first loops of the knot that had constricted Cristian’s chest began to loosen. He wrapped his arms around Felix, too tight, but he couldn’t help himself and Felix didn’t complain. It was easy to cling to one another with the water buoying them up. Felix’s hands slid down his back, up again to spread over his shoulders. Cristian swept into his mouth and sucked at his tongue. He caught Felix’s lip between his teeth and tugged at it, savoring his quiet groan. “I’m sorry,” he whispered between kisses. “Felix, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it—” “Shh,” Felix whispered, and spread a hand on either side of his face, holding Cristian still so Felix could kiss him, brief, 187

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maddening nibbles that only made Cristian yearn for more. Felix didn’t leave him any opportunity to speak between them, not even to apologize. Cristian tried to work them around to the edge of the pool so he could pin Felix back against the wall and take it deeper, but the conspicuous sound of a throat being cleared behind him made them both break away. “Nine laps,” Adrien said when Felix looked over Cristian’s shoulder. “It would’ve been ten if I’d dived in.” “Congratulations,” Felix said dryly, his arms still looped about Cristian’s shoulders. Cristian turned so that they could both see him. Adrien swam toward them, keeping his head above the water. “So what do I get? You said anything I want.” Felix laughed. “Within reason.” Adrien drifted closer. He glanced at Cristian. “My phone?” Cristian laughed and let go of Felix. “No. You made that deal with him, not with me. I don’t care if you swim a hundred laps, the phone stays with me.” Adrien put on a wounded expression. After a moment, he glanced at Felix and said, “Well, I’m going to have to hold it in reserve, then. I haven’t decided what I want.” “Do what you like.” Felix stretched out, floating on his back with his arms stretched out beside him. “I’m not going anywhere.” He reached out blindly and found Cristian’s hand, tugged on it until Cristian let himself float beside him, rocking gently on the pool’s waves. The moon was bright and full overhead. Cristian closed his eyes against its glare. Darkness fell across his vision, blocking out the light. He opened his eyes and found Adrien looking down at him. There was 188

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a puzzled furrow between his brow. “What?” Cristian asked him when he didn’t speak. Adrien scooted back like he hadn’t expect he’d be discovered. “I was just thinking,” he said quickly. “Wondering.” Cristian sat up, sinking back down into the water, and raised a brow at him. “About what?” “Well…” Adrien gnawed on the edge of his lip. “Where did you come from?” Beside him, Felix laughed. Cristian scowled and tugged at his arm, then turned his attention back to Adrien. “I was born. Just like everybody else.” Adrien gave him a flat look that clearly said, Don’t fuck with me. Cristian sighed and looked up at the dark sky. “My mother was your nanny when you were a baby. She spent more time with you than your parents did, and she loved you.” He made a frustrated gesture. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there. But she always said she did.” Adrien didn’t say anything, he just floated at Cristian’s side, watching him. Waiting for him to continue. Cristian scrubbed a wet hand over his face. “I don’t know how she got your DNA. It wouldn’t have been hard, considering she was practically raising you. And this was back before Congress passed all that legislation about consent forms and authorization, so it wasn’t too hard for her to use it either, I guess. “Anyway, right around when she got pregnant with me is when the Jodi Andrews scandal really exploded, and she was afraid she’d end up in jail, too, and they’d take her away from me.” Felix came up behind Cristian as he spoke and wrapped his arms around him, his chin tucked onto the curve of Cristian’s shoulder, holding him quietly. Cristian pressed back into his 189

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embrace, grateful beyond words. It gave him the fortitude he needed to continue. “Mom wasn’t…always right in the head, really. I think she was more than a little obsessed. She left the States because she was afraid she’d be found out and she’d get in trouble, and came here to live with my grandparents. They thought she was more than a little obsessed, too. They raised me, mostly. Mom was too heartbroken about losing you to do a good job of it.” When he’d finished speaking, Felix was holding him tight and Adrien stared at him in mingled horror and pity. Cristian scowled and tried to push away. He didn’t want either of those things, not from Adrien. But Felix made it difficult for him to move, and he wasn’t helping. “I’m sorry,” Adrien said quietly. Cristian’s attention snapped back to him. “That’s awful.” Cristian blew out a sharp breath. “It is what it is. It’s all water under the bridge now, anyway.” Adrien looked skeptical, but he let it pass. “When did you…know? I mean, that you and I—” “Oh, I knew from the start. My grandparents tried to shield me from it, but Mom wasn’t exactly circumspect.” Adrien’s gaze lingered on Cristian’s face. Whatever he saw there made his eyes go soft with sympathy. Cristian turned away from it before Adrien could speak and say something terribly condescending. He pried Felix’s arms from around his waist so he could float on his back and let himself drift away. Felix swam after him, looking concerned. Cristian let him follow. When Felix caught him by the ankle and dragged him back, he chuckled a little. 190

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Felix folded his arms across Cristian’s stomach and leaned his chin on them, watching him. Cristian reached up and slid his fingers through Felix’s wet hair. Water droplets scattered, glinting briefly in the night. “I’m fine.” The corners of Felix’s mouth turned up. “I didn’t ask.” “No.” Cristian twisted a strand of Felix’s hair around his fingers. “But you were wondering.” “Maybe.” Humor shone in Felix’s eyes. “Maybe not. Maybe I wasn’t thinking about you at all.” Beneath the water, he pinched Cristian’s cheek. Cristian splashed a wave of water at him. “Heartless bastard. I bet that left a bruise.” Felix laughed at him and swam backward as he tried to near, maintaining the distance between them. “Don’t you go entertaining ideas of pinching me back to get even. I’m already bruised, you know. That would just be cruel.” Cristian stilled at this reminder of what had passed between Felix and Adrien. Unhappiness seeped into him, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have any right to, and it would certainly make Felix start turning away his kisses again. Felix floated closer. “You were very considerate of Adrien, with that lotion you rubbed on his back so he wouldn’t bruise.” He sounded like he was teasing, but Cristian couldn’t be sure. “But no one’s offered to rub any on my back. Am I just chopped liver?” He was teasing, but he was at least a little serious, too. Cristian could see it in his eyes, and the lingering shadow of reservation there. He was waiting to see how Cristian responded, and Cristian knew he couldn’t fuck it up. “Well, that’s my fault, isn’t it?” Adrien said before Cristian could speak. “Look at me, falling down on the job. Any bruises 191

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you have are my doing, after all. Shouldn’t I be the one to take care of them?” Cristian turned to Adrien, frowning at the intrusion. Felix looked startled by it, too. Cristian bit back his impatient retort. Felix didn’t like it when he turned jealous and possessive, either, and Cristian was enjoying the closeness that they’d had between them, before Adrien interrupted. If he snapped at Adrien, Felix would just sigh and push himself away. He glanced sideways to see Felix’s reaction, resolved that if Felix wanted to take Adrien up on his offer, Cristian wouldn’t say a word against it. He was relieved more than he’d expected when he saw that Felix was looking wary, not eager. He glanced at Cristian, as though seeking permission Cristian didn’t want to give. Cristian drew a breath, and even though he didn’t want to, he said, “I don’t know what you’re all looking at me for. They’re Felix’s bruises, not mine. That’s up to him.” Felix glanced quickly between them both. He ran his tongue over his lip thoughtfully, then said, “Thanks, Adrien, but I want Cristian for it.” Cristian tried not to be obvious about the relief that swamped him. Adrien shrugged like it didn’t matter to him either way. “Suit yourself.” He swam toward the edge of the pool. “The lotion’s still up in my room, isn’t it? I’ll get it.” “You don’t have to do that,” Felix protested, swimming after him, so Cristian swam, too, so he wouldn’t be left behind, alone in the empty pool. Felix distributed towels and they all dried off, then went into the house and upstairs with them slung around their hips and their hair dripping across the floors. 192

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CHAPTER 10 It seemed absurd to need a two-man escort to retrieve a bottle of lotion, but Adrien insisted that he could get it, it wasn’t exactly a hardship, and Felix followed after him arguing every step of the way, so Cristian brought up the rear and followed them both. He lingered in the doorway to Adrien’s room. Felix had stepped aside ahead of him, and Adrien’s voice came from the bathroom. “Arnica? Is that the right stuff, Cristian?” He came back out with the bottle in his hands. “It smells like it, anyway.” Cristian nodded. “Yes, that’s it.” Adrien handed the lotion over to Felix, then turned to his dresser. Cristian reached for Felix, wanting to guide him out and into their bedroom, where he could stretch Felix out on the bed and rub the lotion into his back, and then let rubbing his back lead to 193

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other things. But as soon as Adrien turned away, Felix sucked in a sharp breath and stepped toward him. “God, Cristy, I thought you said that stuff prevented bruises.” He stared at Adrien’s back, which was marred in places with dark, purple mottling. “It does,” Cristian murmured, letting his gaze slide over Adrien’s back, taking in the extent of the bruising. “It’s supposed to.” Adrien stilled and held himself unmoving while Felix spread a hand over the largest bruise, letting him look. “Jesus,” Felix breathed. “And I thought he was hitting me hard. That’s a hell of a lot of aggression to take out on a guy.” Adrien cleared his throat and shifted, not quite turning. “Maybe, but I wasn’t exactly complaining.” If his words were meant to reassure Felix, they landed on Cristian like blows, driving the air from him. No, he hadn’t complained, it was true—he’d just lain there and taken it, until he was sobbing too hard for words. When Felix said, “Pass me that bottle. If Cristian’s rubbing my back, that only leaves me with hands free to rub yours, and God knows, you need it,” Cristian handed the bottle over without a word. Cristian watched with a knot in his throat while Felix flipped the cap of the bottle open, squirted lotion into his palm, and gestured to Adrien. “Turn around, then. Don’t you go trying to convince me that your front’s bruised, too.” The corner of Adrien’s mouth curled up. Felix rubbed the lotion between his hands and began to smear it across Adrien’s back, but he’d barely begun when he stopped and looked over his shoulder. 194

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“Don’t forget about me,” he murmured, catching Cristian’s eye. Cristian quickly took the bottle and dispensed lotion into his own palm. Felix didn’t move his hands on Adrien’s back until Cristian had spread his own across Felix’s. Then he sighed as though perfectly content and pressed back into Cristian’s touch. Felix wasn’t really bruised, despite how he’d teased Adrien. But he did seem more tender to the touch than he usually was, and besides, Cristian wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to put his hands on him. He spread the lotion in broad strokes over Felix’s back and shoulders, then returned to focus on each particular muscle group, working the lotion in until Felix’s skin was slick and the tensions beneath Cristian’s fingers had melted away. It was hard to be close to Felix, have his hands on him, touching him with long, languid strokes while they were both a breath away from naked, and not think about what it might lead to once they returned to the privacy of their own bedroom. He didn’t want to watch Felix’s hands gliding over Adrien’s back so he focused on his own, the subtle contrast of Felix’s skin against his, and the way Felix sighed and shifted beneath his touch. Cristian slid forward, letting his touch slow and linger. He bent and brushed his lips over the back of Felix’s neck. Felix gave a breath of laughter and turned his face toward him. Cristian could have put a hand on his cheek and turned his head just a little bit farther, and then he could have kissed him. Instead he drew his hands down over Felix’s waist and around to his stomach, and let his lips follow the slope of Felix’s shoulder. Felix made a soft, pleased sound and pressed more firmly against him. Cristian dragged the flat of his tongue over the place 195

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on Felix’s shoulder where it curved. He tasted a little of chlorine, not enough to be unpleasant. Felix drew one hand away from Adrien’s back long enough to grasp Cristian by the wrist and pull his arm more firmly around Felix’s waist. That was all; as soon as Cristian’s arm was wrapped around him, Felix released him and returned his attention to Adrien’s back. Cristian ran his hand over the warm skin of Felix’s stomach and kissed up his neck again. Felix’s breath hitched audibly when Cristian’s lips found his ear. “Tease,” he murmured beneath his breath. Cristian shook his head, letting his lips skim over Felix’s skin with the motion. Abruptly, as though he himself had somehow felt the motion, Adrien gave a long groan. “God. Felix, your hands are magic, I swear. What are you doing back there?” Felix straightened, facing forward so Cristian had lost the opportunity to kiss him. He chuckled and smoothed his hands over Adrien’s back again. “That worked, did it? I thought it might. Cristian’s always got an awful knot just there beneath his shoulder blade.” Cristian’s hands stilled on Felix’s back. “I do?” Felix shot him an amused look over his shoulder. “You hadn’t noticed?” Adrien turned to face them. Felix dropped his hands down to his lap. “We both do? In the same spot? How strange.” Cristian snorted. “It’s not that strange.” He was more annoyed by Adrien intruding between him and Felix yet again than he cared to admit, and it was making him surly and churlish. If Adrien noticed it, he kept that awareness hidden. He gave Cristian a curious look. “How’s that?” 196

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“We’re identical in every other way, aren’t we?” Cristian made a flippant gesture with his hand. “We’re practically the same person, anyway.” Felix gave a sharp laugh. “The hell you are.” He dropped his hands from Adrien’s back and turned around to give Cristian a flat look. “You’re not so similar as you think. I could tell you apart blindfolded.” Adrien turned around to look at Felix. He seemed curious, intrigued. Cristian scoffed, dismissing them both, but Felix snapped, “No, I mean it. Take away the face and you two aren’t the same at all. I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to see that.” “You could show him,” Adrien suggested. Cristian and Felix both turned, staring at him. Felix’s eyes narrowed with speculation. “What do you mean?” Adrien climbed off the bed and dragged his suitcase out from under the bed. When he straightened, he had a length of dark fabric in his hands. A blindfold. Felix took it thoughtfully. When he glanced up at Cristian, there was a question in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re actually serious about this.” Cristian crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. “Why not?” Adrien asked. “You want to know once and for all whether there’s any meaningful difference at all between us? Now’s your chance.” He jerked his chin over his shoulder toward Felix. “Unless you’re scared he won’t be able to…” Resolve settled over Felix’s features. He brought the blindfold up over his eyes, wrapped the ends around to the back of his head. He tried to tie it, but struggled to get a secure knot. “Adrien? Help me out?” Adrien started to move toward him, but then stopped. He 197

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grinned at Cristian, and gestured to Felix as though to say, Well? Let’s see, then. Cristian moved forward on the bed. When he took hold of the ends of the blindfold, Felix let his hands drop away. Cristian tied it securely and made sure that it wasn’t going to slip. When he’d finished, Felix said, “Thanks,” like he hadn’t noticed anything amiss at all. Pain curdled in Cristian’s stomach. He rocked back, tried to slide away. This was a mistake. He should have put his foot down. Felix was so sure that he could tell them apart, but if he was wrong— Felix turned and reached out. His hand landed on Cristian’s arm, stopping him. He moved in and pressed himself against Cristian’s chest, slid his arms up to wind around his neck. Cristian tried to push him back, but he leaned in and found Cristian’s mouth with his. Cristian’s hands clenched on Felix’s arm, twin surges of anger and desire raging through him. He tried to set Felix away, but Felix held on tighter. He swept his tongue through Cristian’s mouth, kissing him languidly, thoroughly. His lips curved against Cristian’s before he broke away. “You didn’t think pulling a baitand-switch like that was going to be enough to fool me, did you?” He leaned in again and sucked on Cristian’s lower lip. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, love. I knew the minute you touched me.” Cristian frowned at the laughter lurking in Felix’s voice, but when Felix kissed him again, his hands on the back of Cristian’s head pulling him in, he couldn’t resist. Adrien moved in toward them. Cristian ended the kiss and looked at him, frowning. Now that he had Felix in his arms, he 198

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didn’t want to let go. Felix drew back and turned his face toward Adrien as the mattress shifted beneath his weight. Cristian’s hands tightened. He wanted to pull Felix in close and tuck him away where he was safe and close and his. Adrien’s gaze wasn’t as light or carefree as Cristian would have expected, as he edged around and approached them from the side. There was something reticent in his gaze and the way it slid over both of them, the way he caught Cristian’s eye and held it. Cristian tensed when he moved in closer, kneeling just beside them. “Adrien,” he started, and he meant to say that this was a bad idea, that he’d gotten in over his head and changed his mind, that they should all just go off to their separate beds and sleep it off, but Adrien didn’t give him a chance. He moved before Cristian could react, rising up onto his knees, hooking a hand behind the back of Cristian’s neck so when he leaned in and covered his mouth, Cristian was stuck, held in the kiss. Adrien’s kiss was nothing like Felix’s. His was faster, full of nerves and need. His fingers curled against Cristian’s nape, nails scraping skin. He pressed in close and tried to coax Cristian’s mouth open. The touch of Adrien’s tongue to his made Cristian sit back abruptly. Adrien followed with him, flowing like they were one. When Cristian pushed him away, scrambling to regain his wits, Adrien let him break the kiss. But he remained wrapped around Cristian, his hands clinging tight, his breath damp on Cristian’s throat. “Adrien,” Cristian protested again, no happier than the first time. This time, though, he felt like he was floundering, like Adrien had ripped the ground up from beneath his feet and left him reeling. “I don’t see how that has any bearing on whether Felix can 199

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tell us apart or not.” “It doesn’t,” Adrien admitted. “It doesn’t have anything to do with it at all. But, God, you should see yourselves. You’re so sexy, I can’t bear it.” He punctuated his words with brief, nibbling kisses up the side of Cristian’s throat. “I was feeling left out. And it seemed safer to kiss you. I didn’t think you’d let me kiss Felix.” Cristian brought a hand up to the back of Adrien’s head and curled his fingers in the hair there, stilling him. He tried to draw Adrien back, but he just clung tighter, so Cristian relented and let him stay, but held him so he couldn’t continue kissing his way up Cristian’s throat. Adrien tried anyway, tugging against the grip on his hair. When Cristian clenched his fingers tighter, Adrien’s breath hitched, and he pressed his hips against Cristian’s through the towel. He recalled, belatedly, how Adrien had reacted beneath the paddle, how the pain had made him wanton and eager. Adrien nipped at the edge of Cristian’s jaw and slid a hand up to tug at locks of Cristian’s hair. Cristian reared back, startled. “Stop that.” Adrien raised a brow at him, twisted his head so that his hair pulled in Cristian’s fingers. “You first.” He sat back on his haunches, putting himself lower than Cristian, and tilted his face up. “Kiss me.” “No.” Cristian jerked his hands away, trying to disentangle him. “God,” Felix groaned. He pushed up his blindfold and looked between both of them, though in the end, his gaze settled on Adrien. “Let’s get one thing clear. Cristy doesn’t let me do anything. I’m a big boy. I make my own choices.” He glanced over his shoulder at Cristian and smiled. “Generally speaking, I choose 200

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not to do things that piss him off.” Adrien looked up at Felix. “Generally speaking?” The question drew Felix’s attention back, made him turn his back to Cristian again. “Well.” Cristian didn’t have to see his face to hear the amusement in his voice. “If Cristy doesn’t kiss you, I may have to.” Adrien’s brows rose, and he grinned. “What?” Cristian demanded. Felix turned to look at him again, laughing. “He asked you very nicely. I can’t imagine how you said no.” Cristian’s brows lowered. “You want me to kiss him?” “Don’t you?” Felix asked, one eyebrow raised. “All right, then. Adrien, I meant it about making my own choices. If he won’t kiss you, I will.” “Felix…” Felix shrugged as though that was an answer. Adrien glanced at Cristian, hesitated. Cristian caught his breath when Adrien slid forward, closing the distance between him and Felix. He lifted his hands to the sides of Felix’s face, hooked his fingers through the blindfold and tugged it back down. “Leave that on.” Cristian tensed as he watched the way Adrien leaned down, the way Felix tilted his face up to him in anticipation of the kiss. Adrien spread his hands and guided Felix in, brushed his lips across Felix’s gently. Felix’s lips parted with a quiet breath. Cristian saw a glimpse of tongue, heard the way Felix moaned. He grabbed on to Adrien’s arms and clutched at him, fingers biting deep. It was impossible not to remember the way Felix had said, I could almost pretend he was you, and the same pain rose in him 201

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now that he’d felt then. His head still reeled from Adrien’s kiss. He wanted to tear Adrien away and press Felix down beneath him until they’d both forgotten about anyone else. Or grab Adrien and do the same, shove him down and roll over him, kiss him so hard and fast that there’d be no doubt about which one of them called the shots. He swallowed down the urges, and moved instead to kneel behind Felix. He touched the fading marks on Felix’s shoulders, where he’d rubbed the lotion in. Felix murmured wordlessly and pressed back into his touch. Encouraged that he was welcome, Cristian moved closer, sliding his legs between Felix’s and pressing his chest to Felix’s back. His hips nested against Felix’s ass, his fingers curled around Felix’s hipbones. Cristian pulled him back, letting Felix feel the jut of Cristian’s erection sliding against him. Felix tore away from Adrien’s kiss. He strained his head around like he wanted to look at Cristian, despite the blindfold. “Cristy,” he breathed, like it was just the two of them. Adrien didn’t seem to mind Felix’s shift of attention. He moved his kisses to Felix’s shoulder, trailed them down his chest. When Felix moaned sharply against Cristian’s mouth, Cristian glanced down and saw Adrien’s mouth open over Felix’s nipple, his tongue sweeping across the hardened flesh. Cristian had to admit it was arousing, watching Adrien’s tongue glide over Felix’s skin, feeling the way Felix responded, pressing his hips back against Cristian’s pelvis and kissing him harder. Adrien’s gaze slid up Felix’s torso until he caught Cristian’s eye. There was an unexpected intensity to looking Adrien in the eye while his mouth worked over Felix’s flesh, making his breath hitch and shudder. 202

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Slowly, Adrien drew a hand up Felix’s stomach to stroke his other nipple. Felix bit down on Cristian’s lip and pressed back hard against him. He groped, found Cristian’s hand and held it in a crushing grip. Cristian skimmed his other hand down Felix’s side to where the towel hung loose on his hips. It hardly needed any encouragement at all to fall away. Cristian nestled himself closer against Felix’s ass and trailed his hand down low over Felix’s stomach, lower, fingers trailing through his pubic hair to the thick base of his erection. Felix made a sharp, needy sound against his mouth and flexed his hips up against Cristian’s touch. Cristian circled his fingers around the base of Felix’s shaft and let him slide through his grip. Felix curled an arm up behind Cristian’s head, burying fingers in his hair. He panted against Cristian’s mouth, pulled at him like he couldn’t get Cristian close enough. Cristian kissed him and watched, over his shoulder, as Adrien released Felix’s nipple and kissed down to lap at the head of his swollen cock. “God,” Felix breathed. “You two— Jesus.” He brought his free hand up, pressed it over his blindfolded eyes. “Forget what I said. Can’t I take this off?” “No.” Adrien pulled Felix’s hand away. “Leave it. You’re supposed to be proving you can tell us apart.” Felix blew out his breath. “You’re in front of me, driving me crazy,” he said. “Cristy’s behind me, making promises he won’t deliver on.” He pressed his ass back against Cristian’s hips, against his cock, as though Cristian might have failed to realize what he meant. Cristian bit at the muscle between his shoulder and neck. “You think so?” 203

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“Put your money where your mouth is,” Felix challenged, “and prove me wrong.” Cristian sucked at his bite, laving his tongue over the skin. He pulled Felix’s hand from his hair so he could kiss the back of his neck, running his tongue over the knot of each vertebra. He worked his way down slowly, kissing and nipping at each in turn, leaving a flush crawling across Felix’s skin in his wake. When Cristian reached the small of his back, Felix released an unsteady breath and murmured, “God.” Or maybe he was reacting to something Adrien was doing on the other side of him. Cristian couldn’t know, and he enjoyed the taste of Felix’s skin, the warmth of his flesh against Cristian’s lips, too much to move away enough to see. It didn’t matter. Felix shifted as Cristian’s kisses continued down his spine, widening his stance on the bed. As the curve of his spine flared outward again, Cristian braced his hands on Felix’s hips and kissed along the swell of his ass. He worked his tongue between Felix’s cheeks to flick over his tailbone, the very base of his spine. Felix made a low sound and flexed his hips. Cristian shifted his grip, spreading his cheeks so he could lick again, probing deeper. His tongue found the tight ring of Felix’s anus and swept over it. Felix shuddered once, hard, and spread his knees a little wider on the bed. Cristian circled his tongue around Felix’s entrance, flicked its tip across the top of it. He pressed, just a little. Felix was tense, tight, but at Cristian’s probing he rocked back and seemed to make a deliberate effort to relax. The muscle holding him closed eased, and Cristian was able to work him open a little bit, on his next pass. Felix moaned, choked, “God, Cristy,” like he was dying. 204

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Cristian drew away enough to speak, but before he could say a word, Felix gave another sharp cry and drove his hips forward. Cristian slid his thumb along the cleft of Felix’s ass, working his way deeper until the pad of his finger pressed against Felix’s anus. Felix pressed back against him, but he wasn’t loose enough to take Cristian’s thumb without working at it, not yet. Cristian rubbed around the tightly-puckered muscle, occasionally rocking slightly against it to coax it open. As he worked at him, Cristian leaned forward, resting his cheek against Felix’s flank while he looked to see what it was that had made him cry out when Cristian hadn’t even been touching him. All he saw, at first, was the crown of Adrien’s head, his dark hair falling forward to obscure the rest. When Adrien drew back, Cristian could see his lips sliding over Felix’s cock. Cristian rocked his thumb forward again, pressing harder, as he watched Adrien withdraw until only the head of Felix’s cock was in his mouth. He lapped and sucked at the broad head, then sealed his lips around the shaft again and took Felix into his mouth. Cristian reached forward with his free hand and slid his fingers through Adrien’s hair, holding it back out of his face so he could watch Adrien suck Felix’s cock. He didn’t stop until he’d swallowed Felix’s whole length, his lips pressed to its base. Felix panted and nudged forward, trying to get deeper. Adrien slid his gaze up until it met Cristian’s, held it, while he drew back and then swallowed Felix down again, just as deep. Cristian nearly groaned himself, watching. He thrust his thumb against Felix’s anus, a sharper demand. The muscle opened enough to accept the tip of his finger. Cristian twisted it, pressed deeper, unable to look away from Adrien’s gaze or the incredible sight of Felix’s cock sliding past his lips. 205

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Adrien swallowed him down again, while Cristian watched and continued to try to work his thumb in, even deeper. The next time Adrien drew back, he let Felix’s cock slip from his mouth entirely. Felix made a sharp sound of distress and jerked forward, though he had nothing to thrust against but air. Adrien braced a hand on his hip, holding him still, and licked the crimson head, letting Cristian see the way he circled around it with the broad flat of his tongue, then teased the tiny slit with its tip, making Felix moan and clench around Cristian’s finger. Cristian rocked deeper, a fraction of an inch at a time, while Adrien lapped Felix’s cock. Cristian tugged on his handful of Adrien’s hair, urging him to take Felix into his mouth again, to suck him again so Cristian could watch. Adrien pushed back when he pulled, refusing. Cristian started to frown, but stopped when Adrien’s eyes lit with amusement. He watched, impatient, slowly rocking his thumb in and out of Felix’s ass. Adrien pressed Felix’s cock up against his stomach. He sealed his lips at the base of the head, sucked there for a minute until Felix started to moan and writhe. Then he began to kiss his way down, lingering open-mouthed kisses that brought him, eventually, to the base of Felix’s cock. Adrien lavished every inch of his flesh with attention before he settled lower on his knees and leaned forward to run his tongue over Felix’s scrotum. His eyes never left Cristian’s. Cristian groaned, unable to help himself. He tugged at Adrien’s hair again, but this time, Adrien obeyed and rose up onto his knees. He leaned in when Cristian pulled, brought a hand up to press against the back of Cristian’s head and dragged their mouths together. 206

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Adrien’s kiss was unrestrained and ravenous, his eager tongue sweeping out to explore Cristian’s mouth, lips and teeth all nipping and sucking, stripping away Cristian’s last remaining reservations until nothing else mattered. Gradually, Adrien moved his hand on the back of Cristian’s head around to his cheek, and used it to gently break the kiss. He barely put any distance between them at all, though, and stared at Cristian from very close, his eyes nearly black with desire, his lips parted and flushed from the kiss. Cristian had never seen an expression that said, Fuck me, more clearly than his. He sank his thumb as deep into Felix as it would go and pressed forward against Adrien’s restraint, trying to capture his mouth again. “Hey.” Felix’s voice was breathy and strained. He groped, spread his hand over Cristian’s hair. “Don’t forget about me.” Cristian rocked his finger out and back in again to make his point as he asked, “Do you think we could?” “I think—Jesus—I think you’re driving me crazy, and if you’re not careful I’m going to lose patience and take this blindfold off after all.” “Don’t you dare.” Adrien rose swiftly and covered the sides of the blindfold with his hands to hold it in place. “Leave it where it is, or so help me—” “What?” Felix’s laughter was strained, desperate. “You’ll beat me?” Adrien’s gaze caught on Felix’s lips. He leaned in for a kiss. Felix lured him into another, and a third, before Adrien drew back and said, “I’ll beat you until you’re more bruised than I am, and then I’ll leave you aching and frustrated, that’s what.” Felix laughed again. “Cristy, do you hear this? He’s tormenting me.” 207

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Cristian didn’t answer, but he let his thumb slide out of Felix’s ass. Felix tensed, waiting for him to sink it back in again. When Cristian didn’t, he cried, “Cristy! God. Traitor.” Adrien caught Cristian’s eye. He looked at the nightstand, then back at Cristian, his brows raised in question. Cristian nodded and moved back, away from Felix. When he climbed off the bed, Felix whipped around. “Cristy?” Cristian opened the nightstand drawer and took out the bottle of lube and box of condoms. He turned back to find that Adrien had pushed Felix down onto his back on the bed and had his hips pinned to the mattress. Adrien was sucking his cock again, his head bobbing up and down. Cristian stood and watched them, his whole body tightening at the sight. Adrien let Felix slip out of his mouth and nudged his legs apart. He settled down between them and lapped at Felix’s testicles, then lifted them carefully out of the way and drew his tongue over Felix’s ass. Felix groaned and strained against him, trying to lift his hips from the bed. Adrien held him in place with one hand and reached the other toward Cristian blindly. Cristian climbed back up onto the bed with them and put the bottle of lube in Adrien’s hand. Adrien took his mouth from Felix and flipped the cap open so he could squeeze a puddle of lube into his palm. He rubbed it along the cleft of Felix’s ass, working it deep, slowly focusing his attentions on the pink ring of Felix’s anus. Felix bit down on his lip and threw his head back as Adrien began to work his index finger into him. His finger was narrower than Cristian’s thumb had been, and lubricated, and it was scarcely a moment before he had it buried in Felix up to the last knuckle 208

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and was working to slide a second finger in alongside it. Cristian knelt behind Adrien and leaned forward so he could watch him stretching Felix open with his fingers. He braced one hand on the mattress for balance. The position stretched him out above Adrien, almost on top of him. Adrien glanced back at him over his shoulder and smiled, twisted enough to kiss Cristian briefly, before he did something that made Felix cry out and they both turned their attention back to him. Cristian spread his hand on Adrien’s hip while he watched him work his fingers into Felix’s ass. It only took a little coaxing before he could slide two fingers into him. He rocked them in and out slowly, fucking Felix with them. Felix moaned and jerked his hips up, driving him back in every time he withdrew. While Adrien began to stretch him enough to take three fingers, Cristian trailed his hand around Adrien’s hip to press flat against his stomach. He felt the swift breath Adrien took, and the way his abs tightened beneath Cristian’s touch. When Cristian slid his hand down to circle around Adrien’s cock, Adrien dragged his lip between his teeth and moaned quietly. Felix stiffened where he lay on the bed. He slid his elbows beneath him, pushing himself up. “Adrien? What’s he doing?” He made a face. “This blindfold’s getting less fun by the minute. You guys get to look your fill at me, but I don’t get to ogle back?” Adrien sucked a breath in through his teeth before he spoke. “We’ll just have to figure out a way to make it more fun.” He reached down and took hold of Felix’s hand, drew it to his cock. Felix’s fingers brushed over Cristian’s. He hesitated, then smiled and spread his hand over the top of Cristian’s, so that they stroked together. Cristian tightened his grip around Adrien’s cock. Adrien 209

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groaned again and rocked his hips into the stroke. Felix caught his breath, and when Adrien eased back, Cristian pressed his hips against Adrien’s ass and thrust, sliding his own aching cock between Adrien’s cheeks. Adrien groaned again, louder and more wild, and bore back against him. “Talk to me,” Felix said urgently. “Tell me.” Adrien ran his tongue over his lips. His eyes were shut, his face slack with pleasure. “He’s—God, Cristian, that, again—he’s giving me a taste of my own medicine, I suppose. Jesus, you’re a tease. I don’t know how you bear it, Felix.” Felix dragged his lip between his teeth. His fingers tightened on top of Cristian’s. “Usually I’ll beg,” he said quietly, “if my patience runs out before his does.” Adrien’s breath hitched as Cristian scraped him with a nail. He turned his head, looking back over his shoulder. His eyes were dark, heavy-lidded. “Is that what I should do?” he murmured. “Would you relent, if I begged?” Cristian’s muscles clenched at the thought. He leaned forward and caught Adrien’s lower lip, sucked and nibbled at it before he finally released it. “Do it,” he murmured. “Let us hear you.” Adrien moaned and pressed back against Cristian, as though all he’d been waiting for was an excuse to let loose. “Cristian. I need you to touch me.” He twisted his hips against Cristian’s, settling Cristian’s cock deeper within the cleft of his ass. “I need you in me. Please. For heaven’s sake, have pity. Fuck me. Please.” “I think maybe you’d better,” Felix murmured. “Do you think so?” Cristian skimmed his lips along Adrien’s shoulder as he stroked him again, and trailed one hand down over Adrien’s ass. He worked his fingers between Adrien’s cheeks until he found the tight ring of his anus. 210

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As soon as he touched it, Adrien moaned and pressed back against him. “Please,” he gasped. “In a minute,” Cristian told him, and brushed a light touch over his anus again, so he could hear him cry out. It seemed amazing to him, the way Adrien changed from cocky and self-assured to needy and vulnerable. It was an incredible change to witness, and he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet. He pressed the pad of his finger against Adrien’s entrance, just barely beginning to stretch him. Adrien made a low humming sound deep in his throat and dropped his head back against Cristian’s shoulder. “More.” He groped blindly, reached back to give the bottle of lube to Cristian. Cristian chuckled and scraped his teeth along the side of Adrien’s throat. He took the bottle but set it aside, next to him on the bed. He found the box of condoms instead, took one packet out and tore it open. Adrien looked back at him over his shoulder. He moved his hips forward when Cristian took the condom out of the packet, giving him room to put it on himself. Cristian snaked an arm around Adrien’s waist and pulled him back. “Not yet.” Cristian fit the condom to the tip of Adrien’s cock instead, and carefully rolled it down the shaft. “Poor Felix must be feeling awfully neglected.” When the condom was on, Cristian filled his palm with lube and slicked it over Adrien’s cock. Adrien sucked in a breath and thrust into Cristian’s grip. “Fuck him,” Cristian murmured, his mouth close against Adrien’s ear. “I want to watch.” Adrien shuddered hard against Cristian and slowly slid his fingers out of Felix’s ass. Felix made a strangled sound and arched his back up off the bed as Adrien left him empty. Cristian watched over Adrien’s shoulder as he grasped his 211

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cock, his hand covering Cristian’s, and angled to press the head against Felix’s entrance. Felix moaned and dug his heels into the mattress, giving his hips a sharp thrust upward. The head of Adrien’s cock slipped past the ring of muscle in one smooth motion. Felix grabbed fistfuls of blankets and gasped, “Jesus.” He bucked his hips up again. Cristian drew his hand away from Adrien’s cock as he worked it into Felix. His fingers were wet with lube. He reached down between their bodies and rubbed them over Adrien’s entrance. Adrien stiffened, tension drawing his shoulders tight, making him still. Cristian nudged his hips gently, urging him into Felix. When Adrien released an unsteady breath and gave another little thrust, sinking a fraction deeper, Cristian pressed the tip of his lube-slick finger past the muscle at Adrien’s entrance, up to his first knuckle. Adrien dropped his head back and moaned. Cristian twisted his finger in his ass and savored the way Adrien shivered against him. But when he stopped moving, Cristian did, too. Adrien made a noise of frustration, almost a growl, and thrust deeper into Felix. At the same time, Cristian worked his own finger up to the second knuckle. By the time Adrien buried himself fully inside Felix, Cristian had sunk his index finger into him all the way to the last knuckle and stroked the walls of his passage. “God!” Adrien gasped and drove into Felix. “Jesus.” Cristian scraped the shell of Adrien’s ear between his teeth. “Like that?” “Do it again.” “Oh yes,” Felix said. “Please do. That was—” Cristian stroked it again, firmly. Adrien swore and rocked his hips out, slammed them back in again. Felix grabbed on to Adrien’s shoulders, fingers 212

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clawing at his skin. “Fuck. Yes. That.” Cristian added lube to a second finger and worked it in beside the first. Adrien pressed back against his penetration, helping to take him deeper, then thrust forward into Felix. When he’d buried himself, he rocked back again, driving onto Cristian’s fingers. When the muscle at Adrien’s entrance had begun to relax and Cristian’s fingers were sliding easily, he drove them into Adrien in time with each of Adrien’s thrusts. Adrien choked out strangled cries and drove into Felix, as Cristian worked two fingers, then three, into him. Eventually, Adrien had relaxed enough that Cristian could have added a fourth finger without much difficulty. Cristian braced his other hand on Adrien’s hip, stilling him. Adrien did so with obvious reluctance, shivering as he held himself motionless, buried deep in Felix. As soon as he stopped moving, Felix cried out and jerked at his shoulders. “Don’t,” he gasped. “What is it? Don’t stop.” “I can’t,” Adrien panted. “I— God— Cristy.” The plaintive, desperate note in his voice made Cristian want to drive into him, fill him up and never stop. “Hold on,” he groaned as he struggled to put a condom on onehanded. “Just wait, one second…” Cristian rolled the condom down to the base of his shaft, then applied lube liberally to his cock and Adrien’s anus. When he swapped his fingers for his cock, he sank in almost easily, more than half his length in a single thrust. With only two more thrusts, Cristian was buried in Adrien, and Adrien was locked deep in Felix. When Cristian withdrew, Adrien did as well, keeping Cristian inside him. He drove forward with a choked cry, into Felix, then back again, impaling himself on 213

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Cristian’s cock. Cristian matched his rhythm to Adrien’s, driving forward when he rocked back, withdrawing each time he thrust into Felix. He wrapped one arm around Adrien’s chest for leverage, and watched Felix twist and arch over Adrien’s shoulder. Felix reached down and grasped his own cock, pumped it frantically as Adrien fucked him. They were both gasping, groaning. Adrien swore beneath his breath every time Cristian buried himself in him. Cristian leaned his brow against Adrien’s back, pressed to the valley of his spine as he fucked him faster, harder. His lungs struggled to work, gasping and shuddering. Felix came first, with a long, low groan that Cristian knew intimately. He slammed his pelvis up against Adrien’s and grabbed his hips, holding him tight as he shuddered and ejaculated across his stomach. The sight of it was too much for Cristian. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he’d tried. Felix held Adrien still, but Cristian pounded into him, straining. Adrien’s muscles clamped down tight around Cristian a moment before he cried out, sharp and surprised. He slumped forward on top of Felix, making soft noises every time Cristian fucked into him, straining toward his own release until it finally burst through him. Cristian shuddered, emptying himself inside Adrien until at last he was spent. Adrien made a small sound of loss when Cristian slipped out of him, but didn’t protest further. Cristian sank down beside them on the bed, his pulse thundering, his blood blazing. After a few minutes, when his bones had started to feel less like Jell-O, Cristian rolled over onto his side and reached up to remove Felix’s blindfold. He blinked in the light, and sought Cristian’s 214

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gaze out. A slight smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “I wasn’t wrong, was I?” Cristian’s foggy brain took a moment to realize what he meant, the challenge that had started all this, that he could tell them apart blindfolded. “No,” Cristian murmured. “You weren’t.” He could have argued that it hadn’t been much in the way of a test, and all three of them had forgotten about the original challenge as desire had carried them away. But the thought required to formulate the argument would have taken more effort than Cristian cared to spend at the moment, with his body loose and lethargic, his mind humming with pleasure but otherwise silent. Felix pushed at Adrien’s shoulders until he lifted himself up, freeing Felix from his weight enough that he could lean over and kiss Cristian. Cristian made a low sound and curled his hand behind Felix’s ear. After only a moment, he broke away and shifted his position on the bed so that he could lie near him. Felix settled back down, too, and pulled on Adrien’s arm to urge him to lie down again. Adrien resisted for a moment. His gaze slid over Felix’s face, then flicked to Cristian’s. “I should warn you. I snore,” he said. “Like a motorcycle. If you two want to save your ears and escape to your own bed, now’s the time to do it.” Cristian’s brows furrowed. He’d been in the room while Adrien had slept earlier that day, after the beating, and he hadn’t made a sound. Adrien’s expression was surprisingly withdrawn and guarded, and Cristian realized that he was lying through his teeth. He was giving them an excuse to leave, without the pressure of hurt feelings. Conflicting emotions tightened Cristian’s chest. The idea of spending the night in Adrien’s bed felt strange. But at the same 215

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time, his body was already growing heavy and slow, moments away from dragging him to sleep. He didn’t really want to force himself out of the comfort of the bed. Even just the short walk down the hall to their own room would be enough to wake them back up, and then they’d have to think about what had just happened, maybe even discuss it. The thought wearied him beyond belief. Cristian shut his eyes, deliberately moved in against Felix and Adrien so his body fit to theirs. “Lucky for you, I sleep like the dead,” he murmured. “I’ll take my chances with your snoring.” A hand skimmed his cheek as sleep finally dragged him under. It might have been Felix’s, he thought, as he brushed a drowsy kiss over the palm, but it didn’t much matter.

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CHAPTER 11 Felix woke disoriented by the strange ceiling overhead and the sheets that weren’t his tangled around his waist. It took a moment to remember the night before, but when he did, heat washed across his face. Of course the room was unfamiliar—it was Adrien’s, and Adrien’s bed, not his own. And the body sprawled on top of him, the head tucked comfortably against his shoulder—it might have been either of them. As sleep cleared away from his brain, he noticed the sound of the shower running in the adjoining bathroom. He shifted, twisting his head around to look for it, but though the door was open, he couldn’t make out which man was inside. His movement disturbed the one on top of him, though. He made a sleepy sound and shifted, holding himself up on one elbow. 217

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When he blinked his eyes open and looked down at Felix, Felix smiled and ran his hand over his arm. “Morning, love.” Cristian groaned in response and rolled over onto his back. He rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Morning,” he answered blearily. Then he dropped his hands and looked down at his naked body, and over at Felix. His lips quirked with bemusement. “Was that another guess?” “Not in the least.” Felix rolled over, too, onto his stomach. He bent down to give Cristian a kiss. “No one else looks at me like that.” Interest piqued in Cristian’s eyes. “Like how?” Felix laughed and pillowed his head on Cristian’s shoulder. “How do you think?” Cristian stretched and groaned. “I could use a shower, too.” He glanced at the bathroom. “Think he’ll be out soon? Or is he the kind of person who likes to marinate for an hour before they’ve decided they’re clean?” “You could always use ours, downstairs,” Felix suggested. But just as he spoke, the water in the bathroom shut off. They both glanced toward it. “I get it first,” Cristian said. Felix laughed. “All right. I’ll use ours.” He gave Cristian a kiss and climbed out of the bed. Adrien must have gathered up the towels they’d left strewn about when he woke, and piled them in the laundry basket. Felix extricated one of them and wrapped it around his hips before he slipped out of the bedroom and into the hall. Felix showered quickly. The hot water pounding over him felt like it washed away the remnants of the night before, returning his life back to the usual order of things. It was an odd sensation of 218

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putting his own skin back on, sliding back into the same routine he’d had every day for years. When he’d showered and shaved and dressed, he went downstairs and found Adrien in the kitchen, scooping coffee grounds into a filter. “Couldn’t even wait for me, could you?” Felix teased as he joined Adrien in the kitchen. Adrien turned and smiled at him. “What can I say? I’m an addict.” “Well, they say the first step is admitting you have a problem.” Felix reached past him to get the coffee mugs from the cupboard. Adrien’s eyes crinkled, laughing at him. “I said I was an addict. I didn’t say it was a problem.” Felix tsked, feigning scorn, while Adrien dropped the filter into the coffeemaker and turned it on. He moved to the fridge and got out cream for the coffee, and a carton of eggs. Felix scrambled the eggs and chopped herbs to mix in while Adrien fixed himself a cup. Footsteps on the stairs made him turn, and he smiled when Cristian came into the kitchen, hair still wet from the shower. Cristian hesitated at the threshold, his gaze flicking from Felix to the mixing bowl. “Are you making breakfast? You don’t have to do that.” Felix exhaled sharply. “Well, I’m hungry. I’m not going to wait around for someone to feed me.” “That’s not what I meant.” Cristian took the mixing bowl from Felix’s hands, traded it for a quick kiss. “I’ll cook. The tour group will be wanting breakfast before they leave, and it’s my responsibility to see they have it, not yours.” Felix relented and moved to the counter, out of the way of the other men. He watched Cristian in bemusement as he pulled out a 219

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skillet and set it on the range. “Is that what this is about?” “You don’t like having to take care of my business.” Cristian shrugged. “That’s true.” Felix sat on one of the stools, leaned his forearms against the counter. “You don’t usually try so hard to stop me.” “Now I am.” Cristian poured the eggs into the hot skillet, his movements sharp with tension. Felix sighed and didn’t respond. He’d liked it better when Cristian had been loose and relaxed. He’d just wanted to make eggs. He hadn’t meant to upset him. Adrien came over to the counter and set a cup of coffee down in front of Felix. Felix glanced at it, then up at the other man. Adrien smiled at him. “I’m no psychic like you, so you’ll have to let me know if I didn’t get it right.” Felix took the cup, pressing his hands to the warm ceramic. “It’s fine, I’m sure.” Adrien just gave him a look. Felix relented and tried the coffee. He smiled up at Adrien. “Maybe a little less cream next time?” he suggested, since he didn’t trust Adrien to believe he wasn’t patronizing him if he insisted that it really was fine. Adrien nodded and seemed pleased. “Duly noted.” He moved back to the pot and poured another cup, which he brought to Cristian. Cristian seemed startled as he accepted the mug. He stared at Adrien for a moment, then hid his reaction by sipping the coffee. He made a sharp sound and jerked his gaze back up to Adrien’s. Adrien grinned at his reaction. “I have it on good authority that you and I take our coffee the same.” He jerked his head toward Felix. 220

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“Do we, now?” Cristian glanced at him. Felix inclined his head, and Cristian smiled. Felix rose from his stool and lifted his coffee cup. “I’ll go make sure the tour group’s up and getting ready to head out.” Cristian turned and frowned at him, a spatula in his hands. “You don’t have to do that.” “Don’t be ridiculous, Cristy.” Felix gave him an exasperated look. “You can’t cook breakfast and get them up.” “I could help,” Adrien offered. “No. You’ve done enough of that, Adrien. We’re not in the habit of putting our guests to work. Nor am I in the habit of lazing about and letting others work around me.” He turned and left before either of them could try to protest further, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. It was easy, methodical work, stopping by each tourist’s room and making sure they were awake and preparing to leave, reminding them that breakfast would be waiting for them downstairs in the dining room if they came down soon enough. The familiar work steadied him. Here, at least, talking to guests and facilitating the smooth operation of the business, he knew where he stood and what was expected of him, and what to expect from everyone else. The mood in the kitchen felt fraught by comparison, and he wasn’t ready to face it. As the tourists started vacating their rooms and dragging luggage downstairs to be loaded on the bus, Felix set to work changing the linens on the beds. Cristian would have told him the task could wait, but he wasn’t ready yet to rejoin the two of them downstairs. Cristian probably would have tried to stop Felix like he’d stopped him from cooking, and the thought made him more 221

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determined to do so before Cristian could come up and tell him he didn’t have to. He knew he didn’t have to. It was a point he’d been trying to make to Cristian for ages. But that didn’t mean he liked being forbidden to help, anymore than he liked it being expected of him. When the linens were changed and the rooms opened up to air, Felix followed the last sleepy tourists downstairs. They ran into the dining room to grab what breakfast they could before the bus left, and Felix returned to the kitchen to find Adrien up to his elbows in suds in the kitchen sink. The door to the dining room swung open, admitting Cristian laden with an armful of dirty serving trays. He set them down next to the sink and Adrien started washing those, too. “Cristy.” Felix stopped him before he could disappear through the doorway. “What happened to not putting our paying guests to work?” Adrien twisted to look at them over his shoulder. “Don’t blame him. I insisted.” Felix raised a brow at Cristian, murmured low enough that only he would hear, “I insisted, too, and you still put your foot down with me.” Cristian looked at him. His expression seemed to say, But you know why… Felix relented and slid onto a stool at the counter. “Go on, then. I hope you don’t intend to make a habit of it.” He pulled out his datascreen and flipped through the news stream, to keep his hands busy. He scrolled through the articles without paying too much attention. He was more intent on the quiet, pleasant conversation passing between Adrien and Cristian, and how he’d never have 222

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expected it of them. He nearly scrolled right past the picture, but it caught his eye, even from his peripheral vision. He glanced down, just for an instant, and his heart sank. It was a nighttime photo of the three of them, in the pool the night before. The glow of lights from inside the water illuminated them all clearly, and the photographer had managed to catch a shot in which Adrien and Cristian both faced toward him. The headline above it screamed, Adrien Grant’s Secret Clone! “Oh, God,” Felix breathed. “Cristy—” “What is it?” Adrien asked, watching him in concern as he dried his hands on a towel. Felix looked about for Cristian. He was leaving the kitchen, already halfway across the room. When Felix called his name again, he turned for a moment, walking backward. “Didn’t you hear the door?” he asked with a smile. “Just give me a moment, and then you can tell me what you’ve found.” “No, wait.” Felix scrambled after him, leaving the datascreen behind on the table. “Cristy, don’t answer that. Check the peephole.” Cristian sent him a bemused look over his shoulder. They never checked the peephole, of course. There was no point, when strangers showed up on their doorstep every day. He reached for the door before Felix could get to him, grasped it and pulled it open. A roar of sound rose up, caught Felix in the chest like a bullet. A mass of people crowded together on the other side of the door—reporters, they had to be, with microphones thrust out before them, all talking so loud and so fast that Felix couldn’t make out what any of them were saying. He did think he heard Adrien’s name, though. 223

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“What?” Cristian shook his head as he stared out at the people. “I’m sorry— What’s going on?” “Cristy,” Felix said. “Come back inside. I’ll send them away.” But Cristian didn’t listen to him—if he even heard him at all, over the clamor of the reporters. Adrien came up behind Felix. “Oh God, what now?” Felix spun and tried to push him away, into the hall where he’d be out of sight, but one of the reporters saw him and practically leaped forward. If Cristian hadn’t thrown up a hand to block her, Felix thought she would have run right into their home. The woman thrust her microphone under Cristian’s arm, as far as her reach would allow, and called out, “Adrien! How long have you known about the existence of your clone?” All three of them turned to stare at the woman. Adrien just seemed tired, but Cristian looked like he was going to be ill. Felix came forward and took him by the arm. “No comment,” he said to the reporters. “From any of us. Leave us alone.” He tried to pull Cristian back inside. The reporters only shouted their questions louder and faster, as though desperate to get them in before Felix slammed the door in their face. “Sir!” one of them called, shoving his microphone toward Cristian. “Sir, will you tell us your name? What’s it like being Adrien Grant’s clone?” Cristian stared at them like he didn’t understand. “It’s— I’m not—” He cut himself off, sucked in a breath. Felix could practically see in his eyes the moment when he realized that his usual defense—No, no, it’s just a passing resemblance, I’m just a distant cousin—wasn’t going to hold up with Adrien standing right next to him, the resemblance unmistakable. “Please go away.” 224

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Instead of complying, they just pressed forward more, edging up against the threshold of the door, making it impossible for Felix to close it. The questions pelted down on them. Even Felix felt overwhelmed by them, and no one was paying any attention to him at all. He gripped Cristian’s arm tighter and tried to draw him away, but Cristian didn’t seem able to move. “Did you know you were his clone?” they asked. “How long has Adrien known about your existence? Adrien, what’s it like knowing that you’ve got a clone walking around? Can you two move closer so we can get a shot of you together?” Cristian flinched. “No. God, just go away—” He moved forward, tearing out of Felix’s grip, and started batting their hands away, pushing them back, out of the doorway. Someone shoved a microphone in his face and Cristian shoved at him, sending him stumbling. He tripped over the step, scrambled for a moment, then tumbled and fell onto his back. His microphone skittered away across the flagstones. Silence settled over them as the reporters turned to stare at their fallen associate, and at Cristian, who stood with his hands balled into fists, his face set with rage but slowly shifting to shock. Felix came forward, grabbed Cristian, and hauled him back into the house. As he did, Adrien pushed past them both, out into the midst of the reporters. “I had heard rumors that there was a man here who bore a striking resemblance,” he said, his voice loud and strong, commanding their attention. “I came here to see for myself. I’m quite surprised, of course, but I’m looking forward to returning home and starting filming on my next vid. You’ve heard of it, haven’t you? I’m confident it’s going to be my most exciting yet—” “God.” Cristian’s voice was low enough only Felix heard it, but 225

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it throbbed with hurt. “It’s all about him, isn’t it? Even now. They learn the truth, and all they care about is him, and how he feels about it. And I…” He looked down at his hands as though they’d betrayed him. “Jesus, Felix.” Felix dragged him back into the house, and wrapped his arms around him, hugging Cristian tight. “Ignore them. They’re all idiots anyway. They’re not worth it. Let Adrien deal with them, it’s what he does.” Cristian tried to pull back. “I could have hurt that man.” “I’m sure he’s fine. He just tripped.” “But I wanted to.” Cristian’s voice rose, becoming adamant. “Felix, you don’t understand. I wanted to. I wanted to wring his neck. All of them…” Felix did understand, better than Cristian thought he did. He knew what value Cristian had placed on keeping control of himself, of his temper. As long as Felix had known him, it had been a defining part of his identity, the trait he held on to as proof that he wasn’t just a carbon copy. “Everyone feels that way sometimes,” Felix told him, a low murmur, trying to soothe. “Everyone. Even me.” Cristian drew back, frowning at him. “It’s true.” Felix slid his hands over Cristian’s face. “I could wring their necks for ambushing us like this. For upsetting you.” Cristian pulled away and turned from him. “That’s not the same.” “Cristian Antonio Garcia Rodríguez , you look at me and listen to what I’m saying.” Cristian turned slowly and looked at him from the very edges of his vision, as though he expected Felix to say that it was all true, every word. 226

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Felix sucked in his breath with anger. “It doesn’t matter. They’re just reporters. It’s their job to blow up the parts of the truth they like best, to try to get a story out of it. A day ago, they didn’t even know you existed. So who knows what sort of man you are better, me or them?” “I do,” Cristian said, weary, miserable. He rubbed a hand over his brow and sank down onto the bottom step of the stairs, as dejected as Felix had ever seen him. Felix sat next to him, pressed up against his side because he didn’t think Cristian would tolerate any closer contact. He reached for Cristian’s hand and was extraordinarily glad when Cristian let him clasp it. When he leaned his head on Cristian’s shoulder, though, Cristian didn’t respond at all. They neither moved nor spoke for long minutes, until the front door swung open again, just a crack, enough for Adrien to slide through. He shut it behind himself and locked it for good measure. “Well, that’s quite a bit of excitement for a morning.” He slumped back against the door, looked around until he found Felix and Cristian sitting on the stairs. “I told them to go. They probably won’t stay away, but it’ll give you peace for some time, at least.” “I’m sure you’ve given them a nice sound bite, too.” Cristian’s voice was icy, venomous. “About how you feel to have discovered your secret clone wandering about, or your new vid, or who knows what—” “Cristy,” Felix said. “That’s not fair.” Adrien stared at Cristian in astonishment. “Did you want to talk to them?” he asked, with honest curiosity. “You looked overwhelmed. Intimidated. They can have that effect on people. I was just trying to take the heat off you long enough for you to get back inside.” 227

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Cristian said something low and violent in Spanish that Felix wasn’t about to translate. It didn’t take a working knowledge of the language to understand that what he’d said had been nasty, though. A trace of hurt slid through Adrien’s expression. He came forward with the look of a man approaching a wild animal and knelt on the floor before Cristian. He reached out to take the hand that Felix wasn’t already holding. Cristian jerked away, but Adrien caught it anyway and held it firmly. “I don’t know why you’re so upset by them,” he said, looking up into Cristian’s eyes. “But you really shouldn’t be.” “Don’t tell me how I should feel.” Adrien rocked back on his heels. “All right.” He searched Cristian’s gaze for a moment. “All I meant is that it’s their job to poke until they find something they can spin into a story. They’re obnoxious and awful, but you shouldn’t let them get to you.” “It’s not them.” Cristian groaned and pulled his hands free. He buried his face in them. “It’s me. No one cares about me at all. And why should they? I’m just a poor imitation after all.” Felix made a low sound and tried to protest, but Cristian continued speaking. “I don’t have your charm or talent or…or anything.” “That’s not true.” Adrien’s voice whipped out. “Jesus, are you crazy? What makes you think I’m so wonderful? I couldn’t make bread or set a table or anything before I came here. You taught me that. You can’t believe everything you read, Cristy. All I’ve got is a pretty face and a famous dad who opened doors for me. That’s all.” Cristian jerked his hands down and scowled at Adrien. “What do you care? You’ve got your attention, your publicity. Why should it matter to you? I’m not anything.” Felix tensed, expecting Adrien to snap an angry response. If he 228

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did, Cristian would only get more upset, more irate, and then there’d be no way to stop this from snowballing into a complete disaster. But Adrien didn’t snap anything. He looked at Cristian for a long moment, then reached up and framed his face with both his hands. He turned Cristian’s face up, forcing him to look at Adrien. “Why wouldn’t I care?” he asked, his voice low and vibrating with intensity. “Do you think I want to sit here and watch you suffer?” Cristian tried to pull away, but Adrien held on, forced him back, forced him still. “You’ve had a lot of opinions about me since the minute I walked through your door. Some of them I’m sure I deserve. Maybe most of them. But not all. Not this.” “Let go of me.” Instead of complying, Adrien slid his hands down to the back of Cristian’s neck and leaned forward. Cristian made a sharp sound and braced his arms on Adrien’s shoulders, pushing at him, but Adrien caught his mouth and kissed him. As soon as Cristian’s fists had uncurled against Adrien’s shoulders, Adrien sat back. “Don’t tell me I don’t care,” he said roughly. Cristian didn’t say anything, just looked away. After a moment, Adrien shook his head. “Felix, would you run up to my room for a minute? I think Cristy left his clothes on my floor, and I’m going to need my phone.” Cristian caught Felix by the arm, stopping him. “I didn’t say you could have that back yet.” Adrien raised a brow. “Well, somebody’s going to have to talk to Amber before she gives herself an aneurysm over this latest scandal. I’d really rather not have the reputation for killing my agents.” He paused a moment and swept his gaze over Cristian 229

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with a thoughtful expression. “You can keep it if you’ll talk to her instead. You’d probably do a better job of it, anyway. She listened to you yesterday. If I call her, I’m just going to spend the rest of the morning having my ass handed to me.” Felix glanced at Cristian and noticed the way his gaze focused on Adrien and some of the panic drained out of his expression. He took a breath. “All right,” he said. “I’ll call her.” He grabbed the handrail and pulled himself to his feet. Felix rose, as well, and followed him up the stairs. Adrien was right beside him. “What are you doing?” Felix murmured, glancing sidelong at him, then up ahead to Cristian, making sure he hadn’t heard. “Giving him a distraction,” Adrien answered, just as quietly. “He seems like he could use one.” Felix couldn’t argue with that. He gave Adrien a brief smile, and quickened his pace to catch up. Cristian was already digging the phone out of the pocket of his discarded jeans when they reached Adrien’s bedroom. He glanced at Felix, then his gaze slid past him to Adrien. “I can’t have a conversation with her if you’re going to sit in the background making commentary. Go find something to do.” Adrien looked nonplussed, but he didn’t protest the way Felix expected him to. He shrugged and said, “All right.” Cristian sat on the bed and flipped through Adrien’s address book. “Jesus. Exactly how many contacts do you have in here, anyway?” Adrien stopped in the doorway and turned back, chagrined. “A lot,” he admitted. “Networking’s important in this business, you know.” Cristian rolled his eyes and waved him off. Felix sat on the bed next to Cristian while he found Amber’s 230

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number and connected the call. He reached out and took Cristian’s free hand in his, ran his fingers over Cristian’s knuckles, still concerned despite the fact that he seemed much more stable than he had been fifteen minutes before. Hiding his true feelings only to melt down later was exactly the sort of thing Cristian did when upset. “Amber?” Cristian said into the phone. “No, it’s— But I—” He cut off and said nothing while Amber’s voice squawked through the speaker, loud enough that Felix could hear it, if not make out the actual words. Cristian waited, his brows furrowing deeper as she went on, until he finally raised his voice to talk over her. “If all you’re going to do is bite my head off, then I’m just going to hang up and you can yell at my voice mail.” Felix frowned at Cristian, confused, as his threat sent Amber off on another tirade. She wasn’t upset at him for this latest scandal, was she? That was hardly fair. Her yelling at Adrien seemed par for the course in their relationship, at least these last few weeks, but he hadn’t expected her to treat Cristian so curtly, too. Of course. Cristian had called Amber from Adrien’s phone, and he hadn’t identified himself when she answered. Amber must have assumed she was speaking to Adrien. And Cristian hadn’t disabused her of the notion. Felix watched him in puzzlement, wondering what he was up to. His curiosity switched to alarm when Cristian suddenly went pale. His hand clenched on Felix’s. “No. I won’t do that. Leave him out of it. No, Amber.” And then, just as violently, but with the flush of rage bringing color back to his face, “No. God. Not her, either.” Felix started to speak, but Cristian sent him a swift look and 231

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shook his head. Felix pressed his lips together and forced himself silent. “Look.” Cristian took a deep breath. Felix watched as he strapped his emotional armor back on, and wished there’d been something he could have done to prevent its necessity. “There has to be a better way to deal with this. Something that doesn’t require lying about who I am, Amber. I’m worth four hundred million dollars, and I’m not afraid to leverage that. There has to be something. We both know that there’s no such thing as bad publicity.” It was incredible to watch this business-like persona settle over him, would have been heartening if Felix hadn’t been sure that it was still just a mask, another layer of armor behind which he hid his true pain. He wanted Cristian to be happy, but this was just a facade, and it couldn’t last. Cristian abruptly straightened, pressing the phone harder to his ear. “I could do that. Yes. Soon? Well, I can look at my itinerary and rearrange some things—” He broke off and went silent for a long moment. When he spoke again, his tone was entirely different, his voice thin. “Tomorrow? Oh. I…I’m going to have to think about it. I’ll call you back.” A burst of noise came from the phone in response, but Cristian ignored it, disconnected and dropped the phone next to him on the bed. Felix searched his face, waiting for him to say something— anything—but he just sighed like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and leaned his brow against his hand. “What is it?” Felix asked at last. “Is it so bad?” “She wants him to come home.” Cristian pushed himself to his feet. “First flight out. Tomorrow.” 232

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CHAPTER 12 Felix felt the impact of the words echo through him. His gaze followed Cristian as he crossed the room without another word. “What are you—” “I’m going to go get Adrien,” he answered, with one hand on the door jamb. “I can’t do everything for him.” He was only gone a minute, and returned with Adrien following behind him. Adrien glanced at Felix and his expression turned even more concerned. “What is it? What’d she say?” Cristian sat on the bed, too, and sighed as he scrubbed his hand over his brow. “She wants you to go back to Hollywood. There’s a red eye flight she wants to book a ticket for, that’ll have you back by tomorrow morning so you can get started doing interviews.” He plucked at the covers of the bed. “About me. She wants to use this 233

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media attention to work up a buzz for Firebrand. If you’re careful who you interview with, you can spin this whole fiasco in your favor, and she thinks it’ll bring your numbers up.” Adrien rocked back on his heels, his brows shooting up. “She wants me to exploit you? For the sake of my numbers? The hell with that. I can’t do that to you. I already brought this down on top of your head, that’s bad enough.” Cristian lifted his head and gave Adrien a weak smile. It faded away quickly. “Her other suggestion was for you to stay here for a few weeks longer and do exclusive interviews together. You and me.” Cristian plucked absently at loose threads in the comforter, until Felix reached over and laid his hand over Cristian’s. “She wants you to talk me into coming out as gay so they can say I was the one in those pictures, and you can go back to being the straight playboy.” “Jesus Christ, that’s no better—” “Don’t worry,” Cristian interrupted him, his expression hardening. “If you try to ask that of me, I’ll refuse. If you want to pretend to be something you’re not, that’s your business, but I’ll be damned if you’re going to make me complicit in it.” Adrien dropped down onto the bed and buried his face in his hands. “God,” he groaned. “Those are my choices? They’re both awful.” He tunneled his fingers through his hair. “This is such a disaster.” Felix watched Adrien awkwardly, aching for him but unsure if any attempt to comfort would be welcome. On his other side, Cristian looked at him with an expression that Felix thought must have been similar to his own. “Well, you don’t have to decide right now,” he said at last, decisively. Adrien looked up at him like Cristian had just thrown 234

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him a lifeline, when he’d expected to be left to drown. “There’s at least a little time. Why don’t you go get that arnica? If you’re going home so soon, I’d better do what I can to get your bruises healing up. You can’t film beach scenes when your back’s turned black and blue.” Adrien nodded miserably and scrubbed the heels of his hands over his face, then rose and went into the bathroom. Felix only had time to glance at Cristian and wonder what on earth there was to say before he was back and handing the bottle to Cristian. Cristian got up onto his knees, kneeling in the middle of the bed, and squirted the lotion into his palm. “Lie down.” He gestured at Adrien. “And take your shirt off.” Adrien did as he was told, pulling his shirt off over his head and tossing it on top of the laundry hamper before stretching out on the bed. Felix marveled at how all Cristian had to do was put a hint of steel in his voice and Adrien turned obliging and obedient. He even seemed comforted by it, like it was some huge relief to have someone else calling the shots for once. He couldn’t imagine how Cristian could think they were practically the same person. They weren’t alike at all. Adrien stretched out along the length of the bed, near the edge, his arms crossed beneath his cheek. Felix shifted so that he sat by Adrien’s head. As Cristian dabbed the lotion onto Adrien’s bruises, he sighed and turned his face into his arms. Felix put his hand on the back of Adrien’s head and stroked his hair while Cristian rubbed the lotion in. Adrien lay quiet, unmoving. Felix wished there were something he could say, but all his words caught in his throat. He continued stroking Adrien’s head, feeling the hair slip through his fingers and hoping it was a comfort. 235

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As Cristian reached the small of his back, Adrien drew a hitching breath and shifted, sliding forward so his head was on Felix’s lap, his arms wrapped around his waist like a vise. Felix hesitated, then gingerly touched the top of his head. Adrien pressed his face against Felix’s shirt and shuddered as he held him. Felix met Cristian’s gaze across Adrien’s back. He looked just as helpless and unsure as Felix felt. Felix wasn’t sure what to do in the face of Adrien’s obvious misery, or even what could be done. But he couldn’t bear sitting there, petting his hair and pretending it was doing any good at all. He unwrapped Adrien’s arms from around his waist and slid out from under him. He sank down to his knees at the side of the bed, putting them even with one another, and spread his hands over the sides of Adrien’s face. Adrien stared at him like a wounded thing. Felix glanced at Cristian, just for an instant. He drew a breath and brushed his thumbs over Adrien’s temples. “You don’t have to go, you know,” he said softly. “There’s no need for this. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He glanced up at Cristian again, unable to help himself. He knew he risked going too far and upsetting Cristian. But Adrien looked so miserable, and the thought of letting him go off thinking the only alternative was to live a lie was more than Felix could allow. “You don’t have to leave. You can stay here, and Cristy can still refuse interviews. It doesn’t have to be like this.” He looked at Cristian again, hoping for confirmation, anything to ease this agony in Adrien’s eyes, and Cristian, bless him, didn’t even hesitate. “Felix is right. Neither of us has to do interviews. We can both refuse. So your career might take a little hit for a while—it’ll 236

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recover just fine. You make the studios more money than any other actor out there. They know that. No one would be stupid enough to drop you.” He ran his hand up over Adrien’s back, stroking gently. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.” Adrien stared at Cristian, then tore his gaze away and looked at Felix, hope and relief and pain all mingling and shining in his eyes. He made a broken sound and reached for Felix, cupped his hand behind Felix’s neck and pulled him in, closing the small distance between them. His lips brushed Felix’s, drew away for an instant, then returned, pressed hard. His kiss was frantic and clingy, his lips working to open Felix’s to him. And when Felix parted them and let Adrien in, he swept into Felix’s mouth and only kissed him harder, like he couldn’t get enough. Felix spread his hand over Adrien’s cheek, stroking lightly, trying to soothe whatever strange mood had gripped him. Adrien shuddered as his hand tightened on the back of Felix’s neck. He made a low sound when Felix slid his tongue against Adrien’s and scraped his lips between his teeth. He shivered again, hard, all down the length of his body, when Cristian leaned forward and kissed his shoulder, then brushed his hair away to place another kiss where his shoulder met the back of his neck. Adrien tore his mouth from Felix’s, gasping like he’d run a marathon. Felix leaned his brow against Adrien’s and stroked his cheek again, his temple, the side of his throat. Adrien shut his eyes, squeezing them so hard wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes and furrowed his brow. Felix brushed his thumb over the lines, trying to ease them, too. Adrien drew an unsteady breath and said, firmly, “No. I can’t stay. The media will never give you any peace, so long as I’m here. Neither of you would be able to set foot outside without being hounded. But if I 237

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leave, they’ll follow me. I have to go.” He said it all on a rush, without giving either of them a chance to interrupt, with the demeanor of a man who was doing something unpleasant but necessary. Felix kissed his mouth again, lightly. Adrien made a soft noise that sounded like surprise. He opened his eyes and looked at Felix, across the small distance that separated them. He didn’t look any less miserable than he had fifteen minutes before. If anything, he looked worse, with an air of grim resolve tainting it all. “Please,” he whispered, leaning forward. “Please, could we just…before I have to leave…” He nipped at Felix’s lips, urging him open. Cristian caught Felix’s gaze over Adrien’s head, but he canted his voice to Adrien. “What do you want?” Adrien’s brows drew down, his mouth flattening, his whole expression turning bitter. “I want you both to be happy. If that means going home, then that’s what I’m going to do.” Felix swept his fingers over Adrien’s lips, quieting him. “Right now, what do you want?” Adrien’s expression softened, turned vulnerable again. “Kiss me. Please.” Felix slid his fingers deep into Adrien’s hair and guided Adrien’s mouth to his. Adrien whimpered in relief and opened for his kiss, met him in it eagerly. He traced his thumb along the line of Felix’s jaw, then drew his hand down to press against the triangle of skin revealed above the collar of his shirt. His fingers slipped beneath its edge, running over Felix’s chest. Felix freed one hand from Adrien’s hair to work at the buttons of his shirt. Cristian stared at him just as avidly as Adrien did as he undressed. Felix’s fingers hesitated on his buttons, nerves 238

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skittering through his stomach. It was ridiculous, when he’d already slept with both these men. When the last button came free, Adrien pushed the shirt off of Felix’s shoulders. Felix tugged his arms from the sleeves and let it fall to the floor while Adrien pressed his lips to Felix’s chest, just over his sternum, then bent down farther and lapped his tongue over Felix’s nipple. Felix dropped his head back with a groan. Adrien licked him gently, seeking every response as he sucked on Felix’s flesh. Felix ran his hands through Adrien’s hair, trying not to grip or pull. When he lifted his head up again and opened his eyes, Cristian was still kneeling at Adrien’s side, one hand drifting over his back. His own gaze burned with intensity. He didn’t break away as he bent down and pressed a kiss to Adrien’s spine. Felix couldn’t have looked away, either, not if he’d tried. He ran his hand through Adrien’s hair and murmured encouragement as Cristian brushed his lips over Adrien’s back again and again, kissing every bruise. As he worked his way up Adrien’s back, Cristian shifted so he was straddling Adrien’s hips, his hands curved around Adrien’s ribs to brace himself. Adrien made a low sound against Felix’s skin and used his teeth, scraping Felix’s nipple with their edges. Felix gasped. His hand clenched in Adrien’s hair of its own volition. Adrien spread his hand over Felix’s stomach. Felix thought he meant it as restraint, at first, to keep Felix from pulling at him. But Adrien didn’t push him back, he just slid his touch down, low on Felix’s stomach, and traced the line the waist of his pants drew, just above his hips. His fingers stole beneath it, brushed sensitive skin that made Felix arch his hips forward against Adrien’s touch. 239

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He felt the quick jerk as Adrien tugged the button open echo through him. Adrien eased the zipper down with excruciating patience. Felix stared over his head, into Cristian’s eyes, as Adrien sucked on his nipple and pressed his palm against Felix’s cock. Gradually, as Cristian reached the last of the bruises, his kisses became lingering. His lips parted with every kiss, and occasionally Felix saw his tongue as he drew it over Adrien’s skin. Adrien sucked air through his teeth and nipped Felix harder, hard enough that Felix gasped and thrust his hips forward against Adrien’s hand. Adrien pulled his mouth away and bent his head back, looking up at him. “Felix,” he whispered. “Stand up.” He traced his fingers over the length of Felix’s erection, through the fabric of his underwear, his touch full of promises. Felix braced his hands on the edge of the mattress and pushed himself to his feet, not trusting his legs to remain steady beneath him, not with the way Adrien was touching him. Once he was standing, Felix rested his hands lightly against the back of Adrien’s head. He pushed up onto one elbow a little, his gaze intent on Felix as he worked his other hand beneath the elastic waist of Felix’s underwear. His fingers were surprisingly cool against Felix’s flesh, made him hiss and arch against his touch. Adrien carefully drew his cock out from the encumbrance of his underwear, so it rose up stiff and scarlet before him. Felix ran his tongue over his lip, unable to look away from the sight of Adrien’s head so close to his cock, close enough the warmth of his breath washed over Felix with every exhale. He fought the urge to grab on tighter and jerk Adrien’s head forward, to press the head of his cock to Adrien’s lips and bear down until he parted and swallowed him. 240

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Adrien ran his thumb up the underside of Felix’s cock, a firm stroke that made the blood pound in Felix’s veins. He parted his lips, sucked each into his mouth and wet them so they glistened, then bent forward and pressed them to Felix’s shaft. His lips parted, sliding, and he dragged his tongue across Felix’s flesh. Felix moaned quietly and cradled the back of his head. He couldn’t help but rock his hips forward a little, encouraging more. Adrien licked the length of his cock, long, maddening strokes, all around the circumference, as though he couldn’t bear to leave a single bit of skin neglected. Felix pressed one hand into the mattress to steady himself. Adrien’s mouth was eager, greedy. Behind him, Cristian worked his way down his back again. When he reached Adrien’s waist, he slid his hand around Adrien’s hip and under his stomach, between his body and the bed. Adrien groaned and sucked more urgently on Felix’s skin. He could imagine well enough what Cristian’s hand was doing there, pressed against Adrien’s stomach and cock by his body weight. The waist of Adrien’s pants went loose and slack, and Cristian pushed them off his hips. He kissed Adrien’s skin as he revealed it, down over the firm curve of his ass. Adrien groaned and shifted restlessly, but Cristian moved on, pushing Adrien’s pants all the way down his legs and off until at last he was naked. Felix watched through a heavy-lidded gaze as Cristian knelt by Adrien’s feet and kissed his ankle, the inside of his calf, the back of his knee. Adrien gave a sharp cry against Felix’s skin and flexed his hips into the mattress. Felix curved his hand low on the back of Adrien’s head, just above his neck, so he wouldn’t draw away as Felix reached over to the bedside table and pulled the drawer open. He grabbed two 241

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condoms from the box inside, tossed one onto the bed near Cristian so he would have it at hand, and tore the other open with his teeth. Adrien’s gaze slid up his body, hot as a touch. When Felix had torn the packet open, Adrien took the condom from him. He fit it over the head of Felix’s cock and leaned in again, letting his tongue play over Felix’s latex-covered flesh. Felix shut his eyes and pressed up against Adrien’s mouth. Adrien smoothed the condom until the head of Felix’s cock was covered, then took it into his mouth and sucked as he unrolled the condom the rest of the way with long, smooth strokes down Felix’s shaft. Adrien slid the flat of his tongue over Felix’s glans, teased his slit with the very tip. Felix hissed and rocked his hips forward, pressing into Adrien’s mouth. He let Felix slide deeper for a moment, then drew back again and released him completely. Felix grabbed at him without thinking, wanting to drag him back, but Adrien pushed against his hands until he relaxed his grip, then bent and sucked at his shaft again. He worked over Felix’s whole length, sucking at Felix’s skin until he was flushed and rock hard, but avoiding the more sensitive head of Felix’s cock with maddening determination. When Felix tugged at him again, trying to urge him back up, Adrien responded by kissing lower, down to the base of his cock, his breath tickling through Felix’s pubic hair. He dragged his tongue over Felix’s scrotum and Felix dropped his head back, struggling not to move, not to grab or pull. He made low, lovely sounds against Felix’s skin, like there was nothing at all he’d have enjoyed more than what he was doing. When his noises changed pitch, grew sharper and more insistent, 242

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Felix blinked his eyes open and saw Cristian kneeling behind him, slowly sinking two fingers into Adrien’s ass. “God,” Felix breathed, as Cristian began to withdraw them, then sank them in again, slowly pumping them in Adrien. Adrien whimpered against Felix’s skin, and when Felix tugged on his fistfuls of hair, Adrien let himself be guided up. He closed his lips around Felix’s cock eagerly, and hummed low in his throat as he swallowed Felix down. The vibration made Felix gasp and swear, desire raking claws up his spine. He flexed his hips forward, nudging deeper, until Adrien opened his throat to him. Control slipped through Felix’s grasp. He fucked into Adrien’s mouth. Adrien caressed him with lips and tongue and took him deep. Felix stroked his fingers over the sides of Adrien’s face and held Adrien’s mouth against his flesh, watching Cristian intently as he opened the condom and rolled it down over his own erection. With a hand on his hip and another against his stomach, Cristian guided Adrien up onto his knees. Adrien made a kittenish sound when Cristian pressed the head of his cock against his anus. Felix slid his hands back into Adrien’s hair and guided his lips back to Felix’s cock. He sank into Adrien’s mouth as Cristian drove into him, so that by the time Cristian had buried himself in him, Adrien had swallowed Felix’s whole length and had his lips wrapped around its base, both of them sunk deep inside him. Adrien’s cock hung swollen and scarlet beneath him. He braced his weight on one arm and reached his other hand down to grasp it. He stroked himself as he worked his mouth over Felix’s cock, and as Cristian began to fuck him. Felix shut his eyes and tried to focus only on the feel of Adrien’s lips and tongue on him, his mouth surrounding him, not 243

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the sight of Cristian’s cock sliding in and out of Adrien’s ass. But he could still feel each stroke echoed through Adrien, in the way he moaned or gasped around Felix’s flesh, the tremors that ran through him with rhythmic regularity. He could hear the slick sounds of their fucking, the slap of their flesh together at the end of each stroke, and he could imagine it all in vivid detail, even with his eyes shut. The feel of Adrien’s tongue flicking over his cock, seeking out all the places that made him gasp or made his toes curl, was no help to Felix’s concentration at all. He slid his mouth over Felix’s cock, over and over again, until the blood pounded in Felix’s head and he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting forward every time Adrien moved back. He fucked into Adrien’s mouth, shuddering along the whole length of his body until he couldn’t hold on any longer. His climax burst through him, burst out of him. He buried himself deep in Adrien’s throat as his whole body tightened, wringing him dry. Adrien held him in his mouth as Felix’s orgasm overtook him, his tongue drawing slow patterns over Felix’s skin, treading the line of too much sensation without ever crossing. Felix forced his hands open and stroked his palms over Adrien’s head, and guided Adrien back, his eyes shining with a heady cocktail of pleasure and need. “Please,” he gasped, a moment before Felix sank to his knees and drew him into a fast, greedy kiss. Adrien cried out against Felix’s mouth, but this time it sounded like relief. He shuddered hard, his lips pulling at Felix’s, his tongue sweeping into Felix’s mouth to tangle with his. Felix stroked his hands over Adrien’s hair, over his shoulders, down his back. As 244

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Cristian’s strokes grew more determined, it made the kiss rough and awkward, until Felix gently drew away from it, and tucked Adrien’s head down on his shoulder instead. Adrien wrapped his free arm around Felix’s shoulders and clutched at him, his fingers digging in to Felix’s skin. They spasmed tighter every time Cristian fucked into him, and he cried out against the skin of Felix’s throat. Felix dusted kisses over Adrien’s hair. Adrien’s breath rasped close against his ear. He could hear every time it hitched, or stopped altogether. He could hear the way swallowed whimpers caught in his throat, and how he breathed, “God,” so faint that Felix never would have caught it if Adrien’s mouth hadn’t been pressed so close. He wrapped his arms around Adrien’s shoulders when Adrien’s breath started coming hard and fast, and held on to him as he came, shuddering and crying out against Felix’s skin. He leaned forward, letting Felix support his weight, and lipped lazily at his shoulder. Felix held on as Cristian pounded into him, a few final strokes before he gave a long groan and locked their hips together. Cristian slumped forward, leaning his brow against Adrien’s back, between his shoulder blades. Adrien’s chest heaved as Felix held him in his arms. He kept his face buried against Felix’s shoulder, his hair falling forward and hiding his expression from Felix. But his fingers made slow, aimless patterns on Felix’s back, and after a moment, he laid a deliberate kiss on Felix’s shoulder, in the hollow behind his collarbone. Felix reached past him and slid his palm over Cristian’s cheek. Cristian lifted his head and met his gaze, gave him a small smile. He pushed himself up off of Adrien’s back with a groan. Felix lifted Adrien’s head from his shoulder and kissed him, 245

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then guided him back until he lay down on the bed. “I’d better go clean myself up.” Cristian followed him into the bathroom. Felix peeled the condom off and dropped it in the wastebasket, then wet a washcloth to wipe himself clean. Cristian sat on the edge of the bathtub to do the same, and as Felix handed him the other washcloth, their eyes locked, and they both stilled. What are we doing here? Felix wondered. What is this? If he’s leaving tomorrow… But he couldn’t voice any of the thoughts spinning through his head, and though Cristian looked grim, he didn’t say anything either. Eventually he looked away, and the moment passed. Felix returned to the bedroom. Adrien sat on the edge of the bed, tunneling his fingers through his hair. He glanced up when Felix entered, gave him a faint smile that seemed unbearably weary. Felix sat next to Adrien, pressed close. He wrapped his arm around Adrien’s waist and leaned in against him, unsure what other comfort there was to provide. Adrien’s breath hitched a little, but he didn’t say anything. When Cristian came out a moment later, Adrien raised his head. “You have to give me my phone back now, I guess. I have to call Amber and make arrangements for my flight.” He didn’t look like he relished the prospect, or like he’d put up a fight if Cristian refused to hand it over. Cristian must have come to the same conclusion. He looked Adrien over, then said, “Do you want me to call her?” Hope dawned in Adrien’s eyes, so clear that he didn’t have to answer. Cristian picked up Adrien’s cell and sat next to him to make the call. 246

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Felix rubbed his hand over Adrien’s waist as they listened. He could just barely hear the buzzing ringtone coming through the line. When it stopped, Cristian straightened and adopted a sharp American accent. “Amber? It’s Adrien. Yes, I’ll come home. Did you book the flight? What time is— Oh, but…” He glanced at his watch. “Do you know what time it is here? That’s only four hours. Can’t I just— No, you’re right, that makes sense.” His shoulders fell. “Yeah. Send me the itinerary. All right. Thanks.” Cristian disconnected and looked down at the phone, then held it out to Adrien. “You’d better get packing. Your flight leaves in four hours, and it’ll take you at least an hour and a half to get to Badajoz.” Adrien’s head whipped around. “You said it left tonight.” “Yeah.” When Adrien didn’t take the phone, Cristian placed it in his hand. “Amber wants to book that flight and let the media get wind of the itinerary. Then she’ll get the airline to switch you to the earlier flight, quietly, so they won’t be around to harass you.” Adrien picked up the phone but didn’t look at it, just ran his thumb over its dark screen. “I see. Yes, that makes sense. We’ve done things like that before, to keep them off my trail.” He drew a deep breath and got to his feet. “God. I have to pack. Four hours, with an hour and a half to get there? I should be walking out the door right now.” He dragged his suitcase onto the bed and moved around the room, snatching up handfuls of dirty clothes from the floor and throwing them into it. Felix eyed him sidelong and started pulling the clothes out as Adrien threw them in, folding them neatly and repacking them for him. Cristian said, “I’ll go get your toiletries,” and disappeared into the bathroom. Together, it took them hardly any time at all to get everything 247

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packed and ready for him to leave. The suite seemed bare and lifeless without Adrien’s things scattered through it, which was ridiculous. It looked just as it always did when it was vacant. “Let me carry your bag down to the car.” Felix hurried out with it before Adrien could respond. Adrien and Cristian followed him down to the car. “I can get my own luggage,” Adrien protested, right at his heels. Felix waved him off and hauled the suitcase up into the trunk. Cristian programmed the quickest route to the airport into Adrien’s datascreen, and then there was nothing left for him to do but leave. They all stood next to Adrien’s car, glancing between one another in tense silence. Felix wondered if they all found the idea of saying good-bye as unbearable as he did, or if he was the only one acting the fool. “Have a safe flight,” Felix said at last to break the silence. He nearly added, Let us know you got home all right, out of habit. He always said that to Cristian whenever he took a trip, and Cristian asked the same of him. But they didn’t have any right or reason to ask such a thing of Adrien. Adrien stepped forward and hugged Felix tight. “Thank you. For— Well. You know. For everything.” Felix embraced him briefly. “Be well,” he murmured. “Be happy.” Adrien turned to Cristian. “I really am sorry,” he said softly. “I brought all this down on your head. I know you just wanted—” Cristian cut him off with a hug. He squeezed tight, just for a moment, then stepped back. “Have a good trip.” Adrien nodded. He cleared his throat and hesitated as though there were something else he wanted to say. But in the end, he just slid behind the wheel and started the car. 248

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Felix stood next to Cristian at the end of the walk, and they waved to Adrien as he drove away. When he turned down a cross street and disappeared, Felix sighed and Cristian turned back toward the house. Felix followed him into the kitchen and started pulling down bags of flour and sugar. Making bread was habit and it would keep him busy, but all the work in the world couldn’t keep him from thinking about how it had taken a scant half hour to completely excise Adrien from their life. *

*

*

Stepping out of the stage lights and into the wings of the set felt like being released from a thousand intense stares, and it wasn’t just the relief of escaping the heat of the lights. Adrien had had more interviews with Chris Bronson during his career than he could count. He was one of the most popular talk show hosts around, and the first person they scheduled when Adrien had a new movie to promote. The first time he’d come onto the show, he’d been so nervous he thought he might lose his stomach backstage, but even that experience paled in comparison to tonight. One of the set assistants rushed up to him as he stepped off and offered to escort him back to the green room, but Adrien shook his head. “Thank you, but I really have to go.” It wasn’t even a lie. Amber was probably checking her watch and tapping her foot already, waiting to usher him off to his next interview. She caught up with him as he made his way out of the studio, looking as harried as he’d expected. She didn’t snap at him, though, to his surprise and relief, just took him by the arm and hurried him along. He was too weary to deal with her temper right now. 249

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When they were in the car and whisking their way through the city to the next interview, Amber eyed him shrewdly. “That was very deftly handled.” Adrien leaned his head against the back of the seat and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He didn’t have to ask what she meant. Halfway through the interview, Bronson had tried to turn the conversation to Cristian, even though Adrien had told Amber to make it clear to every interviewer in no uncertain terms that Adrien would not answer questions about him. That hadn’t stopped them from asking anyway, though. But this interview had been live, and he couldn’t just shut up until Bronson got the hint and moved on. Adrien had had to figure out a way to change the topic. He’d tried to direct the conversation back to Firebrand and the upcoming Hang Ten, but it hadn’t felt deft at all. It had felt clumsy and awkward, and the only way he’d managed it was by dismissing the topic of Cristian entirely. He hadn’t straight-up said that Cristian was a boring topic, old news that even Adrien himself had lost interest in, but he may as well have. Adrien hadn’t forgotten the way Cristian had obsessed over Adrien’s every media appearance. It killed him to think that Cristian might find the interview and think he’d meant what he’d implied. He couldn’t help but remember how devastated Cristian had looked after the reporters had surprised him, when he’d sat on the stairs and cried, No one cares about me at all. And why should they? This interview wouldn’t have helped that impression at all. He itched to pull out his phone and call them, to hell with what time it was over in Spain, just to make sure that Cristian heard the truth 250

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from his own lips. “Adrien?” Amber’s voice snapped with impatience. He lifted his head and dragged his attention back to her. “Are you listening to me? I asked you a question.” “Sorry.” Adrien dropped his hand and tried to look attentive. “I’m just tired. What is it?” “I said, are you going to be able to start your surfing lessons next week or not? I need to get in touch with the stunt coordinator and let him know by this afternoon, or they’ll have to rearrange the shooting schedule.” “Amber, you know all you have to do is tell me where to go and when, and I’ll be there.” She snorted a little and scanned him over, her lips pursed. “Yes, well. Speaking of which, I’ve arranged for you to accompany Lisa Richards to a party tonight.” Adrien groaned and pressed his hands to his face. “Another one? It’s no wonder I’m exhausted, the way you keep sending me out to parties and clubs every night.” Amber’s expression hardened with resolve. “Damn it, Adrien, how many times do we have to talk about this? I told you, this is what we have to do if you’re not going to give a statement about those damn pictures with that boyfriend of yours.” “Jon is not my boyfriend,” Adrien snarled. Amber gave him a flat look. The streetlights flashing through the windows made her look even more severe than she usually did. “The point is, Adrien, if you’re not going to say anything about it, then you have to let your actions speak for you. And that means being seen at parties and functions with women on your arm. Honestly, I don’t know why you’ve got such a problem with this all of the sudden. It’s not like this isn’t exactly what you always 251

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used to do—and without any prodding from me, I might add.” “Forget it.” Adrien sank back in the seat again and shielded his eyes with his hand. “I’ll take Lisa to the party.” “You might try to look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Adrien waved his hand at her. “Yes, yes. And I’ll make sure we dance nice and close, and where the cameras can see. Don’t worry. I know how to do this, Amber.” She was quiet for a long moment. “Yes,” she said at last, “I know you know how. But you don’t seem to be enjoying it anymore.” Adrien didn’t say anything, just shut his eyes while the car carried him to the next engagement, the next interview, the next set of demands placed upon him. What was there to say? Nothing that Amber would understand, to be sure.

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CHAPTER 13 Adrien stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom, half delirious from exhaustion and the fading effects of alcohol. He left the lights off, making his way across the room by memory, and flopped on his back on the bed without bothering to pull down the covers. The party had been tedious and interminable. He had danced, like he’d promised Amber, and smiled, and drunk far more than he should have. A month before he’d have been having the time of his life, but tonight all he’d wanted was to go home, maybe to find a vid of his interview with Chris Bronson and see if he’d really come across as inconsiderate as he feared. Lisa Richards had taken the smiling and dancing and drinking to mean that he was enjoying himself, and she’d probably have kept him out until sunup if he’d let her. It was on the wrong side of 253

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midnight as it was, but he’d convinced her to leave as soon as he was able. Amber would have killed him if he left the party early, unless he and Lisa had contrived it to look like they were running off for a tryst, and just the thought of engineering that deception wearied Adrien more than he could bear. So he stayed, and waited, and drank, and now he was paying for it. He could flip his datascreen on and find the interview as he lay there in the dark. And spend the rest of the night beating himself up for it, like he’d already done all day long. “Call Win,” he said into the air, and the computer system chimed its acknowledgment. He waited, drumming his fingers against his thigh. Win, at least, could always be counted on to give it to him straight. If the interview had really been as horrible as he feared, she’d tell him so. The phone didn’t even ring, it just went straight to voice mail. Win’s voice rose and filled his bedroom. “Sorry, suckers, I’m off traipsing around the French countryside for my next project. Leave me a message and I’ll get it when I can, but we’re nine hours in the future over here and the reception is spotty. Don’t do anything interesting until I get back, okay?” “Fuck,” Adrien snarled and let the computer disconnect. He recalled now that she’d had a new vid coming up, but he’d thought there were a few more weeks left until she had to leave. And now she was nine hours ahead, and between her addiction to sleep and the duties of her job, he’d be lucky if he got in touch with her before she was back in California. He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. Maybe Cristian hadn’t even seen the interview. Maybe he didn’t care anymore, and wasn’t paying attention to Adrien’s career like he had been. Maybe a lot of things. There was no way to know, but also no reason to 254

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assume the worst. Well, there was one way to know. Almost as soon as he had the thought, the comp system was dialing Spain, glowing blue numbers scrolling in a marquee across his wall. It wasn’t until the line was ringing across his surround-sound speaker system that he realized he didn’t even know if they would welcome his call. He’d turned their lives upside down in the time he’d been there. He knew that. Now that they had it back the way it was supposed to be, they might want to keep it that way, and not let him disrupt it again with his half-drunk middle-of-the-night phone calls. Maybe they’d be in the kitchen together, Cristian cooking while Felix kneaded bread, too busy to make it to the phone before it went to voice mail. Maybe a lot of things. He was just starting to command the computer to disconnect when the line connected, and he lost the ability to speak at all. “Casa Dorada. How can I help you?” Adrien’s voice caught in his throat. His hand clenched around the datascreen so tight his knuckles hurt. “I— Sorry— Is this… Felix?” There was a long silence on the other end of the line. “Adrien?” he said at last, his words soft and full of doubt. All the air rushed out of Adrien’s lungs. He found he could speak, after all, but he had no idea what to say. Panic tightened his throat, and he managed, “Hi.” As soon as it passed his lips, he grimaced and covered his face with his hand. He sounded like a moron. Felix cleared his throat. “Is something the matter?” Yes. Everything. I can’t breathe over here. It feels like all the air is gone and I’m suffocating. Nothing’s changed, but it’s all 255

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gone wrong, and I can’t make any sense out of it. Please, God, I don’t know what to do. He swallowed it all, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing the words down. “No. I mean, it’s just… I did this interview today, and he asked about Cristian, and I tried— I wanted to keep him out of it. I know he doesn’t want the attention, but I think I may have fucked it up.” Adrien grimaced and rubbed his thumb over his brow. “I was just…wondering if he saw it. Hoping he hadn’t. Afraid he had, and it had upset him. I just thought I’d check. In case.” Felix fell quiet again. Adrien could hear background noises, like papers rustling, over the static of the line. “What time is it there, anyway?” The question took Adrien aback for a moment. “Very, very late. Or—” He rolled over and looked at the clock on his nightstand, saw that it had gone past twelve and was solidly into the single digits. “Or very, very early, depending on how you look at it.” Felix let out a little breath, almost a sigh. “I think I know the interview you mean. I saw it this morning. Cristy hasn’t. I don’t think it was quite as bad as you fear, though. Maybe. I don’t know. Do you think I shouldn’t let him watch it?” The question startled Adrien silent for a moment. He wanted to say, I don’t know. He’s your boyfriend. Not mine. Why would you ask me? Instead, he said, “I just don’t want to upset him any more than I already have.” He hesitated, bit his lip. Blurted out, “How is he?” Felix was quiet for long enough that Adrien started to worry. Should he not have asked? Was he overstepping his bounds, worrying for Cristian after it was his own fault that he’d thrown 256

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everything into turmoil for them? God, he never should have called. He definitely shouldn’t have called when drunk. He was going to fuck it all up, and he’d just wanted to talk to them. “He’s… Well. He’s Cristy. You know,” Felix said at length, but that wasn’t any comfort at all. Adrien sat up in the bed, rubbing the grit out of his eyes. “That sounds ominous.” Felix made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “Yeah. Tell me about it. I get to live with it.” “You need to keep him busy. It’s when he gets too lost in his own head that he starts overthinking things and making himself miserable.” “I know.” Felix sounded amused at the suggestion. It occurred to Adrien, too late, that if he’d picked up on that after only a week with them, that Felix surely had, too, in all the years he and Cristian had been together. “I do what I can. There’s not much work to go around, I’m afraid.” “Business is slow?” Concern twisted through Adrien, and frustration at how helpless he felt, lying there half a world away while Felix and Cristian struggled. Felix gave a short laugh. “Business would be booming if Cristy would actually book rooms. People call all day long wanting to make reservations, but he thinks what they really want is to come and gawk at him. He doesn’t want to be a tourist attraction.” “You’re not making any reservations?” The idea was more than a little frightening. “But…how are you going to stay in business?” “I’ve got enough to keep us afloat. Don’t worry so much.” Adrien thought he meant to sound reassuring, but all he sounded was tired. “We’re all right.” Adrien didn’t know what to say to that. They didn’t sound all 257

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right at all. It was his fault, almost all of it, and there wasn’t anything he could do to make it right. “I should let you go,” Felix said. “You should get some sleep.” It was true, but the suggestion made him feel frantic. He gripped the phone tighter, and only barely managed to keep himself from pleading with Felix not to go. “I guess,” he said miserably. “Good night, Adrien.” Felix’s voice filled the room, warm and fond. For the space of a breath, it felt like the past few weeks had never existed, like he was still back there with them, not six thousand miles distant with only the tenuous connection of a phone line keeping him from being completely alone. “Sleep well.” Adrien’s throat closed up, too tight to speak. The line went dead. He rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. He tried not to think of Felix or Cristian, tried not to think of anything at all, but the hollow ache that filled his chest was too big to ignore. He waited for sleep, feeling even more awful now than he had before he’d called, but he didn’t hold out any hope of finding it. *

*

*

Felix hesitated in the doorway to the living room, frowning at the sight of Cristian sitting in one of the armchairs. He had a lamp on next to him as he flipped through a book. “Cristy,” Felix said quietly, to get his attention. Cristian lifted his head and looked at him, his brows raised in inquiry. “I thought we were going out tonight.” Cristian’s expression didn’t change at all, but it closed off completely. Only hardness remained in his eyes, tension in the way 258

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he held his mouth, unhappiness in the set of his jaw. “Must we? I’m exhausted.” Felix crossed his arms over his chest. “From a long day spent catering to the demands of a houseful of guests?” he demanded, sharp enough to drive the point home. At the moment, they didn’t have any guests at all, and Cristian seemed downright resistant to doing anything to change that. Cristian didn’t respond to the barb in Felix’s words, though, just gave Felix a mild look. “If you want to watch a vid together we could queue one up—” “No,” Felix snapped. “I want to go out, damn it. I want to eat a meal that we didn’t have to cook and won’t have to clean up after. I want to breathe fresh air for a while, and walk down the street with you, and look up at the stars. I want to get out of this house for one night, for God’s sake.” Cristian curled his legs up beneath him and picked up his book again. “I’m really not up to it tonight. Maybe another time.” It was a lie. It wasn’t the first time he’d given Felix that excuse, just the most recent in a long line of failed attempts to get Cristian to go outside and do something other than hide. He always said, Maybe later, and when later came, he shook his head and said, No, I’m not up for it now, or I’m too tired. Some other night, okay? Felix was losing him all over again, and it made him feel frantic. He was repairing and reinforcing that wall he’d built up around himself, that he and Adrien had had some limited success in tearing down while Adrien had been here. But he’d built it higher and stronger than ever now, and Felix feared there was no room for him inside it. Cristian was locking him out, and everything he tried to do to prevent it only resulted in failure. At least before, he had known that he had leverage in Adrien. It 259

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only took the mention of his name to incense Cristian to the point that he’d step outside his barricades. Now— Now Adrien was just another topic of conversation that made Cristian shut down and hide behind his walls and his armor. Felix was frustrated and desperate enough to try anyway. He didn’t know what else to do. He walked into the living room and stood in front of Cristian, looking down at him. “Adrien called the other day.” He threw the words out like a gauntlet, hoping for any response at all. Cristian’s eyelids flickered. He turned another page in his book, and scanned his finger along the line as he read. “Did he?” he asked, in a disinterested tone, as though he found the whole topic of Adrien completely droll, and he only asked to indulge Felix. Felix blew his breath out on a quick sigh. “Yes. He did.” “Did you have a nice talk?” Cristian remained uninterested, still reading over the page in his book. Felix pressed his lips together and stared down at him, hating it too much to bear. “It was lovely, actually,” Felix said, though in truth, it had been anything but. Adrien had been exhausted and probably intoxicated, and Felix had been so startled to pick up the phone and hear his voice on the line that he’d hardly known what to say. It had been awkward and stilted, but it had been so nice just to talk to him again that it had hardly mattered to Felix what either of them said. It was a far cry more enjoyable than standing around watching Cristian cut himself off from the world. Felix crossed his arms over his chest, stuck out his chin. “In fact, if we’re not going out, maybe I’ll just give him a call. I might as well get something good out of the night.” He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, and even started dialing, with one 260

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eye pinned on Cristian. He knew Felix well enough that he’d suspect a bluff if Felix gave him half a reason to. Cristian glanced up, his gaze fixing on the phone in Felix’s hand and holding there, but he didn’t speak. He just watched, waiting to see if Felix would go through with it or not. “Hello?” The faint, tinny sound of Adrien’s voice came through the speaker. “Felix? Hello?” Felix’s gaze jerked down to the phone. He grimaced, chagrined, and brought it up to his ear. “Adrien? Sorry. Hi.” Adrien gave a sharp sigh that sounded more than a little bewildered. “Is everything all right?” Felix started to speak, rote words poised automatically on his lips. Yes, everything’s fine, don’t worry, it’s nothing. But he hesitated, glanced at Cristian, who pretended to read. But his finger didn’t move across the page, and he’d gone tense. He was listening, and wondering what Felix would say to Adrien after all. If Felix lied and said everything was fine, Cristian really would dismiss it. “Actually,” Felix said, “no, it’s not. He’s driving me out of my mind.” Cristian’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowed. “Cristy?” Adrien asked with a laugh. “Who else?” He didn’t know what he expected Adrien to say, and he certainly didn’t expect him to do anything from all the way on the opposite side of the globe. He only knew that this, at last, seemed to have caught Cristian’s attention, and he had to keep talking until he could figure out how to use it to get Cristian to let his guard down completely and have a real, honest talk with him. But Adrien surprised him. 261

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“Let me talk to him,” he said. Felix hesitated. He glanced down at the phone in his hand. “Are you sure?” “Yeah.” Adrien was completely confident. “Put him on.” What could it hurt? It could hardly make things any worse. With a shrug, he walked over to the couch and held the phone down to Cristian. “He wants to talk to you.” Cristian lowered his book and frowned at him. “He what?” He took the phone, looking as though the very notion bewildered him. Felix moved to the arm of the couch, trying not to be obvious about his desire to hear what Adrien had to say to Cristian, and whether it would help at all. Cristian pinned the phone to his ear with his shoulder and said, “Adrien? Yes, I— What?” He stiffened, and frowned across the room. “That’s what you wanted to say to me? Jesus, Adrien.” He paused, listening, then sucked air through his teeth. “What the hell makes you think you know what I ought to do in my own relationship, when you’re six thousand miles away and have no idea what’s going on, anyway? No, I— What is that supposed to mean? Adrien— Damn it.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and scowled at it with such venom that Felix feared he might vent his anger out on it and destroy it. “What happened?” Felix ventured, wary of his temper at the same time as it amazed him. He’d been trying to get Cristian riled up for days, and here Adrien had managed it in less than a minute. “What did you say to him?” Cristian demanded. Felix’s brows rose. “Nothing. You heard me. I was standing right here. You know what I said.” “He told me to tell you, ‘You’re welcome,’ and then he hung up on me.” Felix laughed once in astonishment. He covered his mouth, 262

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struggling to contain it, but Cristian glared at him anyway. His hands balled at his sides. “What the hell did you have to involve him for anyway?” He pushed off the couch and stalked across the room. “I can’t believe you brought him into this. It’s none of his business.” He stopped, spun back to face Felix. “What were you thinking?” Felix shook his head and slid off the arm of the couch. “Cristy…” Cristian frowned at him. “What?” “Stop pacing. Come here.” When Cristian didn’t move, Felix reached out and caught his arm. He pulled him forward. Cristian frowned and took a reluctant step toward him. Felix leaned in and kissed the lines that bracketed his mouth. Cristian drew back. His frown deepened. “What are you doing?” “Trying to get you to kiss me. What do you think?” “Why?” Cristian asked. Felix stepped back and looked at him in consternation. “Do you really have to ask? I love you. And you’re sexy.” Cristian’s brows snapped down. “No. Damn it, Felix. Stop that. I’m angry.” Felix chuckled and caught a handful of Cristian’s shirt, pulling him close again. “You can be both, you know.” He hooked an arm around the back of Cristian’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Cristian’s mouth flattened, his expression decidedly unhappy. Felix slid his tongue along the seam of his lips, urging him open. He bit at Cristian’s lower lip, then nipped a little harder when he didn’t respond. Cristian blew his breath out all at once. He grabbed Felix’s arm, his grip tight. “Stop that,” he growled against Felix’s mouth. 263

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Felix tightened his arm around Cristian’s neck, pulling him in harder and sliding his tongue into Cristian’s mouth, tangling it with Cristian’s. His hand clenched on Felix’s arm, the points of his fingers digging in even deeper. He growled low in his throat. When Felix caught Cristian’s tongue between his lips and sucked on it, the growl turned into a harsh sound. He released Felix’s arm and caught his face in both hands. Cristian angled Felix’s mouth against his and kissed him hard, hungry, a sound of victory resonating in his throat. Felix loosened the arm around the back of Cristian’s neck and opened his mouth for him, let Cristian kiss him as hard and as fast as he liked. Cristian’s hands gripped hard enough to leave bruises, but Felix just groaned happily and pressed in close against him. “Damn it,” Cristian growled against his mouth. “Felix.” “Cristy,” he murmured in response. He wrapped his arms around Cristian’s back and held him tight. “Kiss me.” Cristian did, kissing him hard, his teeth nipping, hands groping down Felix’s back. Felix leaned his hips against Cristian’s and swallowed his moan. The quick jerk as Cristian pulled his shirt out from the waist of his pants made the muscles of Felix’s stomach shiver. Cristian slid his hands up between Felix’s shoulder blades, pulled him in hard. Cristian fought to drag him back when Felix unwound his arms and pulled away. Felix gave a breathless laugh. “Wait. My shirt—” “No,” Cristian growled and bore him back, until something hit the backs of his legs and he fell onto the couch. Cristian climbed up over him, bearing him down. He sealed his mouth on the side of Felix’s throat and sucked at his skin. Felix gasped, his hands tightening on Cristian’s back. He wrapped his legs around 264

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Cristian’s hips. Cristian pulled at his clothes combatively, jerking the hem of his shirt up, wrestling it over Felix’s head. He had to break away from his kisses to do so, and the moment the shirt was off and Felix had pulled his hands free of the sleeves, he reached for Cristian again, pulled him in even as Cristian was reaching for him, like it was a race to see who could drag the other in first. Cristian’s hands raced over Felix’s chest. He was rough and possessive when he gripped Felix’s shoulders and shoved him back against the couch cushions. Heat spread through Felix until he melted, letting Cristian push and prod him where he liked, as long as Cristian kept kissing him. “Out of curiosity,” he gasped, arching up against Cristian’s mouth as he trailed his biting kisses down Felix’s chest, “what did Adrien say to you, anyway?” Cristian froze. He straightened and frowned at Felix, his eyes dark and unhappy. “You want to talk about Adrien? Now?” “Yeah.” Felix curved his hands at the back of Cristian’s neck and tried to pull him back down. “I’m just wondering.” Cristian pushed against him as Felix tried to pull him down. Felix wondered with a shiver of dread whether maybe he’d gone too far, and pushed Cristian away, instead of just coaxing him out from behind his walls. He curled his fingers in the collar of Cristian’s shirt, holding him there. After a moment of scowling at him, Cristian gave a sharp sigh. “He said I needed to turn you over my knee and spank you,” he snapped. “To vent my anger. Like he has any idea what’s going on in our relationship, half a world away.” Felix hesitated, didn’t say anything. Cristian glanced at him and frowned. “What is it?” 265

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“Nothing,” Felix said quietly. “It’s just— I mean… You could. If you want.” Cristian reared back, his brows snapping together. “You want me to?” Felix scanned his gaze, feeling like he was treading dangerous waters and unsure what the right response was, or if there was a right one at all. “You could,” he whispered again. “No.” Cristian gave him a stern look. “That’s not what I asked.” Felix took a deep breath and met his gaze. “Yes,” he said, and hoped this wasn’t about to backfire horribly. “I would.” Cristian stared at him for a long moment. Then he slid back, climbed off of Felix and off the couch. He stood looking down at Felix. Felix slowly pulled himself upright. He waited, unable to look away from Cristian’s gaze, his heart thundering. “Get up,” Cristian said. “Take your pants off.” Felix rose, hurrying to obey. He unzipped and unbuttoned his pants, pushed them and his underwear down to his ankles. After he’d stepped out of them and kicked them aside, he stood waiting before Cristian, shivering a little, from anticipation rather than cold. The way Cristian’s gaze slid over him warmed him. He gestured to the couch. “Lie down. On your stomach.” Felix backed up until the edge of the couch hit the backs of his legs, unable to look away from Cristian. He sat, then stretched out, lying prone. He crossed his arms and tucked them beneath his cheek, watching Cristian. His breath felt thick and sluggish in his lungs. Cristian strode forward and stood before the couch, looking down at him. He reached down and spread his hand over Felix’s 266

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ass. Felix jumped before he could stop himself. He couldn’t help it. He was expecting—wanting—a hit, not a touch. Without saying anything, Cristian climbed up onto the couch with him, and knelt straddling his thighs. He kept his hand on Felix’s cheek, stroked it for a moment before he pulled his hand away. Felix turned his face into the cushions, bracing. Cristian’s hand came down and hit hard, sending a rush of stinging sensation through him. He drew a long, slow breath and tried to relax for the next strike. They fell in a steady rhythm, each one harder than the last as Cristian warmed up to it and, perhaps, realized that Felix was warming up to it, too. His ass burned, so hot it felt like fire, and the heat spread out, around his hips, down his thighs, up his back. When the next hit fell, Felix groaned and arched his hips against the cushions. Cristian hit him again, out of rhythm. Felix gave a choked gasp, his hands clenching above his head. After that, there was no cadence, only the rain of Cristian’s blows falling on Felix’s backside, fast and hard. Felix curled his arms up over his head, gasping and panting, hardly able to catch his breath before the next strike fell, making him moan again. He twisted beneath Cristian’s weight, making strangled noises in the back of his throat. Cristian pressed a hand against the small of his back to hold him in place and spanked him again, and again. “Cristy,” Felix gasped. Cristian hit him again halfway through his name, and the second syllable was lost in a moan. “God!” It was nothing like when Adrien had beat him, when all that had been between them was the way Felix enjoyed being hit, and Adrien enjoyed doing the hitting. There was Cristian’s anger 267

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between them now, driving him on, and Felix’s desperation. He felt caught in a whirlwind, unable to find his balance. But the weight of Cristian on top of him kept him grounded, even as he brought his hands down against Felix’s ass again and again, and sent him farther out of his mind. When Cristian gave a long groan and slumped forward, Felix gasped beneath him. His whole back hummed with energy, electric, alive. Even the faint caress of Cristian’s breath across his skin made him shiver and arch. He twisted around. Cristian made a low sound of displeasure and tried to hold him down, but Felix brushed his hands off and kept at it until he’d rolled over, onto his back. Cristian stared down at him, his eyes dark, breathing heavy. Felix caught Cristian’s face between his hands and pulled him into a frantic kiss. Cristian moaned against his mouth and let Felix drag him down on top of him. His fingers pulled at Cristian’s fly, shoved Cristian’s pants off his hips when it came loose. Cristian groaned and bit at Felix’s lips when he grasped Cristian’s cock and stroked it. Felix arched, rubbing his cock against Cristian’s as they kissed, frantic and needy. “Fuck me,” he breathed against Cristian’s mouth. Cristian groaned and pressed a hand to Felix’s stomach, holding him down. He wrenched away from the kiss and held himself up on one arm, staring down at Felix with a gaze so heated and hungry that Felix shivered. With his other hand, he dragged Felix’s legs up, his knees against his chest. Felix’s pulse raced at how the position exposed him, and stretched the skin over his throbbing ass. He whimpered and arched up, lost the ability to breathe completely when Cristian 268

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sucked his thumb into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, wetting it. Cristian’s gaze bore down into Felix as he reached between them and pressed the pad of his thumb against Felix’s entrance. Felix moaned and rocked his hips up, bore down against even that slight pressure to ready himself for what he knew was coming next. Cristian increased the pressure relentlessly, stretching Felix open and sinking into him. Felix grabbed at Cristian and pulled at him, trying to drag him in deeper, to get more. It wasn’t enough, would never be enough until Cristian was inside him, filling him up. Cristian sank his thumb into Felix’s ass as far as it would go. He rocked it out and drove in again, and again. When Felix moaned and lifted his hips to meet each thrust, Cristian drew his hand away, leaving Felix gasping and searching Cristian’s gaze for explanation. Cristian straightened, rising up over him. When he brought his hand up and spat into his palm, Felix shuddered. His gaze followed as Cristian lowered his hand, stroked his cock until it was slick with his spit. He slid forward and pressed against Felix’s anus. Felix’s breath exploded from his lungs. He pulled Cristian’s mouth to his. “Fuck me,” he breathed between kisses. “Fuck me, Cristy. Now.” Cristian groaned against his mouth and thrust forward, sinking into him. It was faster than they usually went, and with less preparation. Usually Cristian made him slippery with lube, and eased him open until Felix could take him without difficulty. It hurt this way, a little, a twinge of discomfort as Cristian stretched him open and worked in deep. Not enough to diminish the fierce 269

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pleasure of it. Certainly not enough for Felix to make him stop. The last thing he wanted was to stop. He wanted Cristian so bad it was like a craving, wanted him as deep as Felix could take him. He wanted to be joined. Connected. He drove his hips up against Cristian’s, forcing him deeper, and moaned against his mouth. Cristian locked their hips together with another firm thrust. Felix clutched at him, one hand running up into his hair, the other grabbing at Cristian’s waist, trying to pull him in closer. Cristian rocked back and slid into him again and Felix had to break away from the kiss to catch his breath. Cristian mouthed down Felix’s throat, his lips hot on Felix’s already-feverish skin. Felix shut his eyes and buried his hands in Cristian’s hair, holding his mouth against him. Cristian’s groan vibrated against the skin of Felix’s neck. He wrapped an arm around Felix’s back for better leverage, and drove into him again. On his next stroke, when Cristian had withdrawn almost completely, Felix tightened his legs around Cristian’s hips and pulled himself up as Cristian thrust forward, making the stroke harder, deeper. He cried out, his whole body tightening at the sensation. Cristian fucked into him, fucked him hard, without Felix even having to ask. Shuddering beneath him, Felix reached down and grasped his own cock. He stroked it frantically, his grip tight, sweat breaking out over his skin. An insidious thought came, that it would have been perfect if there’d been someone else’s mouth on his cock while Cristian fucked him, or the sharp scrape of teeth on his nipple while a hand not his own stroked him. The thought made Felix’s chest ache and 270

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regret stab through him. His breath raveled. He shoved his fingers through Cristian’s hair and lifted his head from Felix’s throat, dragging him in for a kiss that would banish those thoughts. He threw himself into kissing Cristian and focusing on the feel of Cristian pounding into him, driving them both to the brink. Every time Cristian sank into him, it forced the breath from Felix’s lungs in strangled grunts and groans. Felix tightened his grip on his cock and pumped faster, moaning against Cristian’s mouth as his body shuddered beneath the onslaught. It came on him abruptly. His whole body clenched tight, his legs around Cristian’s hips, his hands fisting in Cristian’s hair. He cried out against Cristian’s mouth as his body shuddered, and he shot jets of semen across his stomach. Cristian gasped as Felix’s muscles tightened around him. He drove into him a few more times before his own, sharp cry mingled with Felix’s. He thrust deep and held himself there, shaking above Felix, his face pressed to Felix’s shoulder. Felix held on to him, panting and more than a little taken aback. Cristian gingerly settled his weight down on top of him, as though he was worried Felix would protest, but Felix wouldn’t have dislodged him for the world. He pressed his face against Cristian’s shoulder. Cristian stroked his hair. “Should we move upstairs?” he asked after they’d lain there together for a moment. Felix shook his head quickly. “No. Not yet.” He tightened his arms around Cristian’s back. “Don’t move. Let’s stay here, just a little longer.” Cristian relaxed on top of him. He slid his fingers over the back of Felix’s neck, a comforting caress. Felix kept his face pressed to 271

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the hollow of Cristian’s throat, inhaling the scent of him, his shampoo and soap and skin, and tried to let it envelop him, so it would banish away all those other thoughts, the ones he refused to acknowledge, the ones he had no right to be thinking in the first place.

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CHAPTER 14 Felix woke with a muffled groan. His whole body ached as if he’d been beaten up during the night. Cristian lay tangled in his arms, pressed close and snoring. Felix looked down at his lax, sleeping face for a moment, before he started to untangle himself. He moved carefully, afraid of disturbing Cristian. When he was free, he scooped his pants up from the floor and tugged them on, then padded into the kitchen, bare-chested and yawning. Faint light filtered through the windows, announcing that it was morning, but early yet. Felix made coffee, then leaned his elbows on the counter and rubbed at the grit in his eyes while he waited for it to brew. They kept their old, outdated coffeemaker because Cristian was fond of it, but mornings like this taxed Felix’s 273

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patience for nostalgia. Without conscious thought, he glanced across the kitchen to the phone that sat on the little desk where Cristian kept his reservation book. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek, frowning. The coffeemaker hissed and whirred. The aroma of the coffee drifted up, teasing Felix. He fled across the kitchen to the desk and the phone, to escape the scent of it while his willpower still held. His fingers were dialing the number as though he’d done it a hundred times before. And then the line was ringing and he had no choice but to press the phone to his ear or risk making a fool of himself. “Hello?” Adrien’s voice slurred and dragged with sleep. A sudden stab of guilt shot through Felix. What time was it? He couldn’t remember how many hours behind Adrien was now, anyway. He hadn’t meant to wake him. The thought painted a picture in Felix’s head of Adrien lying in bed in the dark, all alone, maybe curled up on his side while he held the phone to his ear. His hair a disordered mess because of the length, a few strands falling forward to curl at his brow and against his cheek. Felix sucked in a sharp breath at the mental image. He leaned his brow against his hand. “Hello?” Adrien said again. “Felix? Is this a prank call?” Felix let out a shock of laughter. He slid his fingers through his hair and fisted them at his nape. “I’m here. Sorry.” “Oh.” Adrien’s voice was suddenly rich, warm. Happy. “All right.” “I didn’t wake you, did I?” “No. I was just lying here trying to get to sleep.” Felix grimaced and plucked a pen up from the desktop, twisting 274

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it between his fingers. “And here I am keeping you awake. I’m sorry. I should let you go—” “No.” Sudden movement came over the phone line, the rustle of clothes or sheets and the creak of bedsprings. “No, don’t do that. It wasn’t working anyway. I’d rather be talking to you.” Felix relaxed slowly. He popped the cap off, twisted it around and put it on the end of the pen, then spun it over his fingers. “I’d like to talk.” The springs creaked again. Felix shut his eyes, but that only made it easier to imagine Adrien sitting up in bed, the sheets piled around his waist. Now that Felix had relented, he’d be settling back down again, maybe punching his pillow up beneath his cheek. “How’d that work out earlier?” Adrien still sounded groggy, but much more coherent, less like he was half asleep and fading fast. “I guess it was, what, last night for you?” “How’d what— Oh. You mean Cristy?” Felix laughed a little. Across the room, the coffeemaker beeped to announce that it had finished brewing. Felix switched the call to the kitchen speakers to leave his hands free. “You’re a wonder, do you know that? I’d been trying for days to piss him off, and you managed it in thirty seconds flat.” Adrien chuckled. “Well, clearly I’m a prodigy. I’ve been pissing him off since before I even knew he existed.” Felix smiled as he reached into the cupboard to grab a mug. “What did you say to him, anyway? He said you told him he ought to bend me over his knee and spank me until he’d gotten his aggression out.” “Mmm.” Adrien’s smile warmed his voice. “Yes, that’s what I said.” “That’s all?” 275

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Adrien chuckled. “Yeah. That’s all.” He was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, he sounded less like himself. More reserved, uncertain, like he was edging out onto thin ice and unsure if it would support his weight. “Did he?” “He took a little convincing, but yes.” “Good. Somebody’s got to, since I’m not there to take care of it.” Felix made an amused sound. A comfortable silence fell between them as he moved around the kitchen, adding sugar and cream to his mug before he poured the coffee in on top of it. “I miss you,” Adrien said, almost hidden beneath a sigh. Felix fumbled with the pot. Hot coffee sloshed over the rim and splashed across the back of his hand. He swore. “Damn! Fuck. Son of a bitch—” Felix dropped the pot on the counter and ran to the sink. He thrust his hand under the tap, running the water as cold as it would go. “Oh.” Adrien’s voice turned small, cowed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. God. I’m sorry, I know, it’s awful, please just forget it—” “Adrien!” Felix groaned and rubbed the back of his uninjured hand across his face. “Stop it. It’s not that. Jesus. I just scalded myself with a pot of coffee. That’s all.” The silence on the line seemed to stretch forever this time. Finally, Adrien drew an unsteady breath. “Are you all right?” “I’m fine.” Felix drew his hand out from under the water and grimaced. A splotchy area of skin across the back and side of his hand had turned red and swollen, and it stung without the cool water flowing over it, but it wasn’t a serious burn. “Just an idiot.” Another stretch of silence settled between them. Felix leaned over, his elbow braced on the edge of the sink and his head in his 276

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hand, while he held the other beneath the running water. He tunneled his fingers through his hair, listening to the hiss of the faucet and the faint sound of Adrien breathing. Several minutes passed. Felix pressed his thumb and finger against his eyelids, fighting against the words rising up in him. They were foolish, thoughtless, ill-advised. They would only bring pain on all of them, if he opened that floodgate. But he was already hurting, and the throb of his hand was nothing compared to the ache that he’d carried with him for weeks, that sat in his gut and gnawed at him. Soon there would be nothing left, he’d be open and raw and empty. It was killing him, every day a little more. He shouldn’t have called Adrien. Not this early, and before coffee. Not with the turmoil he’d taken to bed the night before. He should have left well enough alone. Things would have gone back to normal eventually. “Adrien.” His voice forced its way through his throat, past everything in him that tried to restrain it. “You could come back.” Adrien sucked in a sharp breath, then said nothing, nothing. Felix’s heart pounded, already painful, and Adrien hadn’t even responded yet. “I can’t,” he said at last, his voice full of unspoken regret. “Damn it. I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m in the middle of filming, and that doesn’t wrap for another six weeks.” Felix nodded miserably, and leaned his head heavier in his hand. “No, of course. I understand.” The words felt foreign and strange in his mouth. They weren’t the ones he wanted to speak. He wanted to say, The hell with filming, you could take some time off. You don’t need another enormous blockbuster under your belt, you’ve got enough money. And we need you. 277

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He didn’t say any of that. He didn’t know how. “Felix, I’m sorry,” Adrien said. “I hate this.” Felix drew a long breath to fortify himself. He straightened and rubbed his hand over his face. He turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry his hand. It started throbbing again as soon as the water was no longer running over it, cooling it. He wrapped it in the towel and went into the bathroom to rifle through the first aid kit. “Felix?” “I’m here. Hold on. I’m trying to find some burn cream.” “Burn cream? Are you sure you’re all right?” Felix’s strength faltered. He sank down onto the toilet and leaned his head on his arms, on the bathroom counter. “Yeah. I’m fine,” he said, fighting against the sting of tears. It was just the shock and pain of the burn, making him emotional. There was no point in saying anything. He couldn’t do anything about it. Adrien was six thousand miles away, too busy with his own life to come back and be a part of theirs. He was an idiot to have let himself hold out hope. All it had done was keep the wounds fresh and raw. “Felix,” Adrien said quietly. “It is getting late here, and I’ve got an early call time tomorrow. I’m going to go, okay? So you can take care of that burn.” Felix swallowed the knot in his throat. “Sure. I’m sorry for keeping you up.” “No, don’t be.” Adrien spoke quickly, then hesitated. “Do you think… Tomorrow… I guess it would be tonight for you. But, in the morning, here, when I get up, do you think I could call again? If it’s not too late?” The quiet uncertainty in Adrien’s voice nearly killed Felix. 278

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They weren’t any of them doing any good for one another, poking at their sore wounds instead of letting them heal in peace. But Felix felt like an addict, desperate for any fix he could get, and he couldn’t make himself turn Adrien down. He forced himself to smile, so Adrien would hear it in his voice. “Adrien, you’re always welcome to call, no matter what time it is.” Please call, he thought, shutting his eyes and covering them with his hand. Call whenever you like. Call all the time. It kills me a little more each time you do, but it’s better than the alternative. “All right.” Adrien sounded reassured and happy. “I should go now. Night, Felix.” When he’d disconnected, Felix shut the phone and set it down on the counter. He drew long, deep breaths to steady himself and regain his composure. When he could do it without his hands shaking, he slathered the wound in burn cream and wrapped it in gauze. He carried the phone back out to its place on the desk, and ignored the smell of coffee that now filled the kitchen. He walked back into the living room, where Cristian was still lying asleep on the couch, oblivious. Felix climbed back in with him, pressing close so they would both fit. Cristian murmured something incomprehensible and shifted in his sleep. His arms wrapped around Felix, drew him in. Felix leaned his brow on Cristian’s chest. Everything was back the way it was supposed to be. He tried to pretend that that was still enough. *

*

*

The phone rang, rousing Cristian from his book. He laid it open 279

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on his stomach and stretched to grab it from the edge of the nightstand. He answered without checking the display. “Hello?” “Hey.” Cristian recognized the voice as Adrien’s, and sat up straighter. “Is Felix around?” He sounded weary and strained. Cristian shifted upright on the bed, tucking a pillow behind his back. “He just got in the shower.” “Oh.” Adrien’s voice fell. “We spoke last night. He said I could call… Never mind, I guess. Could you have him call me back?” Cristian glanced toward the bathroom door, which sat ajar. He could see the shower curtain through it, fogged and opaque with steam. “He won’t be long. We could talk until he gets out, if you want.” “Oh, sure.” He released his breath all at once. “I just thought… Never mind. How are you?” Cristian leaned his head back against the bed’s headboard and let a crooked smile pull at his lips. “I’m fine.” “Has the press been leaving you alone?” “Mostly.” Cristian slid a bookmark against the spine and set the book aside. “They don’t come around here much anymore. Felix has caught some photographers snooping around a few times, but he sends them away.” Adrien chuckled. “Good. And they don’t harass you when you guys go out into town?” Cristian’s throat closed off. He coughed to clear it and shifted on the bed. “Sure.” His voice was tight. “I haven’t had any trouble.” He hadn’t had any trouble in town because he’d hardly gone out at all since the reporters had first shown up on his doorstep, and Adrien had left. It wasn’t worth the hassle or the stress, and he couldn’t stand the way people stared at him. People he had lived 280

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with here for years, whom he’d considered friends. And now they stared at him like he was an oddity in a circus sideshow. Better to stay home with Felix, who was probably the one person in the world who didn’t care about his lineage. Not the only one, Cristian thought, settling the phone more comfortably against his ear. He doesn’t, either. Adrien let out a soft sigh. “Are you all right?” Concern made his words soft and entreating. “You’re not upset about the other day, are you?” Cristian shut his eyes and ran his tongue over his lip. “No,” he murmured. “I’m not upset. Not anymore. It worked out fine, in the end.” “Good.” Adrien’s voice warmed with a smile. “I was hoping it might.” “Were you?” “It sounded like things were getting a little tense around there. I don’t like the idea of either of you being unhappy.” Cristian’s heart gave a painful squeeze at this confession, delivered softly, almost as though he really thought Cristian might not realize he felt that way. Cristian drew a breath, trying to loosen the tension around his chest. “You’re one to talk, you know.” He tried to keep his voice gentle. “I saw that interview on The Chris Bronson Show—” “Oh God.” Adrien groaned. “I tried to warn Felix about that. I totally shoved my foot in it, I know. I didn’t mean—” “It’s not that. You were trying to keep us out of it, I know. I’m not upset. I just—” Cristian knotted his fingers together until the knuckles turned pale. “You looked so tired.” Adrien started to speak, but stopped before he’d gotten a word out. He coughed and cleared his throat. “The shooting schedule is 281

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crazy. I’m always on set. It’s exhausting.” “That’s not what I mean. I don’t—” Inside the bathroom, the sound of the shower dropped away to silence, followed by the clatter of Felix pulling the shower curtain back. He came out of the bathroom, dripping on the carpet as he wiped water from his face. “Is that Adrien? I didn’t miss him, did I?” Cristian covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “No, he’s still here.” “Oh good.” Felix smiled, his face bright. He grabbed a towel from the rack and ran it through his hair, then wrapped it around his hips. “Let me speak to him?” Cristian’s fingers tightened around the phone in instinctive reaction. Felix raised a brow and Cristian sighed. “Sure, hold on.” He uncovered the mouthpiece, spoke into it. “Adrien, Felix is out of the shower. I’ll give you to him.” “Okay,” Adrien said after only a brief pause. “Don’t worry about me so much, all right, Cristy? It was nice to talk to you.” “Yeah. You, too,” Cristian answered, too rushed, because Felix still stood over him, waiting. Cristian offered the phone to him. Felix climbed halfway across the bed to take it from him. He wrapped his fingers around Cristian’s hand and the phone together, and leaned forward, placing a firm kiss on Cristian’s mouth. “Thanks, love,” he said, and smiled. Cristian reached to pull Felix down next to him. He could have his talk with Adrien there, and Cristian could read, and they could lean in against one another and be close in the meanwhile. But Felix slid back, off the bed and onto his feet. He turned away and lifted the phone to his ear. “Adrien? Yeah, sorry about that—” He ducked out of the bedroom. His voice faded as he carried the phone down the hall. 282

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Cristian picked up his book, but left it unopened on his lap, staring out through the open bedroom door, frowning, a vague sense of unease twisting through him. He slid down in the bed and punched the pillow up beneath his cheek, to read and wait for Felix to return. He scanned the first page three times in a row before he sighed, shut the book, and admitted that he didn’t have enough concentration left to focus on reading. He wasn’t irritated that Felix chose to spend this time with Adrien rather than Cristian. He had been enjoying his book, and had been perfectly content to do so in solitude while Felix did what he liked. Until Adrien had called, anyway. Then he’d enjoyed their conversation, unexpectedly. And Felix had come, and of course, Adrien had called to speak with him to begin with. But Cristian had had things he wanted to say to Adrien, and had wanted to hear Adrien’s response. It was more than a little disconcerting to think that he wasn’t upset at Adrien for taking Felix away from him, but rather the other way around. Felix returned an hour later. He slid into bed and pressed against Cristian from behind, wrapping him in his arms. Cristian laid his forearms and hands over Felix’s, leaning back into his embrace, and didn’t say anything about the phone call. Felix called Adrien again the next day, preventing any opportunity Cristian might have had to speak with him. Felix sat curled in the armchair in the living room, the golden afternoon sun slanting across him. He looked like he belonged in a painting. Cristian found himself making excuses to wander in from the kitchen while they spoke, to ask Felix if he wanted a cup of coffee or perhaps something else to drink, and Cristian was making himself a sandwich, would Felix like one? Every snatch of Felix’s 283

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side of the conversation that he caught made him wonder about the parts he missed. What had Adrien said to make Felix smile that way? Did he get the joke Felix made, and laugh along with it? He wished he could eavesdrop, or talk with them both together. The phone calls quickly became a part of their daily routine. At least once a day, the phone would ring and Felix would run to answer it, or he’d glance at his watch and excuse himself to go call Adrien. Cristian found himself torn between how happy the calls made Felix, and the loneliness that twisted through him every time the phone rang. He still didn’t understand why he was jealous of Felix, instead of jealous that Felix was spending time with Adrien rather than him. He couldn’t explain it, so he pushed it away and said nothing. After nearly a week of holding his tongue, one morning Cristian was sitting at the desk paying bills when the phone rang. He glanced at the display. “It’s Adrien,” he called to Felix, who was up to his elbows in suds while he washed up from breakfast. Felix looked up, surprised. “It’s late for him.” He rinsed the soap from his hands and reached for a towel. Cristian hesitated with the phone in his hand, his thumb hovering just above the button to answer the call. He watched Felix hurrying to dry his hands, getting ready to come take the phone from him, and he couldn’t bear it. “Felix.” His voice came out choked and harsh. “I want to talk to him today.” Felix stilled with the towel still in his hands. “Do you?” Cristian’s breath rushed out of him in a sudden surge of frustrated anger. “You’re always talking to him. Always. You never let me.” Felix’s lips parted with surprise. “Cristy… I didn’t know you wanted to. You never did before. You never told me. Of course 284

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you can talk to him.” His glance slid sideways to the phone. “Though, if you don’t answer that soon, neither of us will be able to.” Cristian punched the button and pressed the phone to his ear. “Yes?” he snapped, his irritation at Felix making his words harsher than he’d intended. Only static came over the line. Then, uncertainly, Adrien asked, “Cristy?” Cristian dragged a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s me.” “Are you all right? What’s wrong? You sound upset.” Cristian shook his head and started out of the kitchen. He headed up the stairs with the phone. This wasn’t the sort of conversation he’d wanted to have with Adrien, where he was upset and on edge and Adrien spent all his time trying to figure out how best to soothe him. He wanted the sort of talks Felix had had with him over the past week, with smiles and laughter and good moods all around. “I’m fine. I just lost my temper for a minute and you caught the tail end of it. Sorry about that.” “That’s all right,” Adrien said, but he sounded uncertain. “How have you been?” Cristian asked before Adrien could start on any more questions about him. “I hope you’re getting a little more sleep.” Adrien gave a strained laugh. “Not exactly. This business isn’t all glamour and ball gowns, you know. If you’re going to be filming sunrise scenes on the beach, it kind of requires getting up before dawn.” “And staying up late,” Cristian murmured as he stepped into the bedroom and swung the door shut behind him. He leaned back against it and breathed a quiet sigh of relief at having Adrien on 285

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the phone, finally. And all his, at least for the morning. “You don’t think I don’t know what time it is there, do you? It’s very late. You should be sleeping. This can’t be good for you.” “I know.” Adrien sounded abruptly miserable. “It was…a long day. I just needed to talk to—someone.” Cristian realized with a sick lurch that what Adrien meant was I just needed to talk to Felix. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek and glanced behind him at the door, thinking about how happy Felix always seemed when he was on the phone with Adrien, and how wretched Adrien sounded now. “Do you want me to take the phone down to Felix?” The suggestion made his fingers clench on the phone. Protests and pleas hovered on the tip of his tongue. Please don’t, stay and talk to me, just this once. But he forced the words out, and swallowed the rest down. “No!” Adrien sounded shocked by the suggestion. “No, don’t. I want to talk to you. We haven’t had much of a chance. Forgive me, I’m just tired. Exhausted. I’ve been up since dawn, and it’s been one take after another, all day long. I couldn’t do anything right. I kept missing my marks and stumbling over lines I ought to have down and I just—” His breath hitched, a tiny sound like a sob. Hearing it made Cristian frantic, desperate to do something to fix it. When Adrien had caught his breath, the rest of his words came out on a rush, all strung together. “I didn’t think it was going to be so hard, not like this. I’m so lonely here, I hate it. I don’t even like work anymore. All I can think about is how much I miss you both, and now, all these phone calls, and suddenly the person I’m closest to in the world is a world away from me and he’s not even mine because he’s in love with you, and I—I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this anymore, I don’t know how I’m supposed to 286

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last until filming wraps, it’s killing me, and I just— I just want— God.” The last word came muffled, as though Adrien had covered his mouth with his hands. The sound of Adrien hiccupping and gasping knocked Cristian’s knees out from under him. He sank down onto the floor, his thighs drawn to his chest and his back against the door. “Adrien. Hey, Adrien, breathe. You have to breathe. Calm down. I’m right here. It’s okay.” “I’m sorry.” “Are you crying?” Cristian dropped his head back against the door with a thud. God, this was all going wrong. “No.” “Adrien…” “Maybe a little.” He gave a sharp sniff. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” “Shhh. Don’t apologize. You don’t have to. Just talk to me, please. Tell me what happened.” Tell me what’s wrong, so I can make it better. Adrien gave a broken laugh. “I don’t think there’s much else to tell. I miss you, that’s all. Both of you. And today—” The rhythm of his breath raveled again. “You said it was a long day?” Cristian asked quickly, trying to keep him talking, keep him focused, so he couldn’t break down again. “Longer than usual?” “No, I guess not. It’s just been one of those days, you know? The ones that feel like every minute takes an hour.” Cristian wrapped his arm around his shins and leaned forward against his thighs, keeping the phone against his ear. “What scenes did you film today? Anything exciting? Tell me about them.” “Exciting. You could say that.” He gave a little laugh, unsteady 287

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but not so hopeless as before. “It was a love scene. I don’t usually have a problem with those. Filming sex scenes isn’t sexy to begin with. There are people crowded all around watching you, and boom mics in your face, and techs running around with light meters and telling you to make minute adjustments for the sake of the composition. Even if I did like girls, the whole situation’s not exactly a turn-on. Normally, anyway.” He gave a low growl. “I haven’t had sex in weeks, you know. Not since I left. Amber threatened to make me find a new agent if I so much as thought about setting foot in my club again. It’s agony. And I’m already thinking about you both all day long. It’s the only way I get through it. But today…” Adrien sighed. “It was a disaster. I couldn’t concentrate. I just kept fucking up all day long.” Cristian laughed beneath his breath. “How many takes?” “God.” Adrien groaned. “Dozens. I lost count.” Cristian smiled, teased gently, “Poor Adrien, forced to endure sex with a girl over and over again all day long. It’s no wonder all the guys want to be you.” He wasn’t sure that it was the right tactic to make light of what had obviously been another stressful, strenuous day in a long series of them. It might backfire and leave him stranded on the other end of the line while Adrien broke down again. But Adrien chuckled, and if it was weak at least it seemed genuine. “All the guys except you,” he murmured. “You’re the only smart one of the bunch.” Cristian uncurled a little from his position, leaning back against the door again, his arm resting on his knees. “Adrien. Let me help you.” Adrien laughed again, short and sharp but clearly amused. “Well, I don’t know what you think you can do from there.” 288

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“Where are you?” He broke off, silent for a minute at the sudden change in topic. “I’m at my trailer. It was already late when we wrapped for the day, and the set’s a bit of a drive from home. I didn’t want to have to wait to call.” Cristian leaned his head back against the door behind him, shut his eyes, listening to the sounds coming through the phone line. The whisper of Adrien’s breathing—still not steady, but more even now than it had been. Rustling in the background that was probably Adrien shifting position. “Good. Take off your pants.” Static crackled across the line. “What?” “You heard me.” “I hardly think—” “Adrien.” Cristian made his voice hard, all edges and steel. “Do it.” Adrien huffed out a breath. Cristian heard more rustling, then Adrien said, “All right. Happy now?” Not until you are. “Underwear?” “Boxers. I suppose you want me to take those off, too?” Adrien asked, dripping with sarcasm. “Not yet.” Cristian conjured to mind an image of Adrien, wearing only his shirt and a pair of boxers. “Are you sitting down? In a chair?” “Yeah.” Adrien cleared his throat. “I’ve got one of those fake director’s chairs that fold up.” “Good.” Cristian added it to the mental image. Adrien reclining in the chair, one arm hooked over the back, legs splayed haphazardly. If he’d been there, and it had been anything more than a fantasy, it would have been perfect for Cristian to sink down 289

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to his knees before him, draw Adrien out, swallow him down. He paused too long, distracted by the thought. Adrien cleared his throat and asked, “What should I be doing?” Cristian smiled. God, he was too perfect. How did he intuitively know, when Cristian had barely hinted at the sort of game he wanted to play? “Touch yourself.” His kept his voice low, so he didn’t miss Adrien’s quiet groan at the command. “The way I would. Tell me how it feels.” Adrien’s breathing came quick and shallow. “The way you would? What way is that?” Cristian felt his smile spread. “You tell me.” Adrien groaned once, then again, a full octave lower. “You’d be a tease,” he grumbled, but there wasn’t any real note of complaint in his voice. “I know you would. That’s why you wanted me to leave the boxers on, isn’t it? So you could torment me through them. Not really touching me, not the way I want.” Need was already filling Adrien’s voice, making it throb. Even so, Cristian couldn’t help but ask, “Do you? Want it, I mean.” “God, Cristy,” Adrien breathed. “Did you doubt it?” He sucked air through his teeth. “Of course I do. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want you.” “Now you have me.” Cristian drifted his own hand across his stomach, stroking lightly. “Are you touching yourself?” “Yes.” It sounded like he spat it out between clenched teeth. “Tell me how.” Cristian drew a slow circle around his navel with his thumb, thinking about what it would be like to watch Adrien like this, his hands on himself, rubbing his cock through his boxers, flushed with need. He spoke slowly, and his words painted detail into the image. Adrien, running his thumb in a firm stroke up the underside of his 290

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cock, sneaking his fingers under the elastic waist of his boxers to caress its head, worrying—or pretending to—about being caught doing something he hadn’t yet been instructed to. He tripped over words in the middle of sentences, his breath hitching and stuttering. When Cristian said, “Take them off, Adrien. No more torment,” he moaned, a needy sound that caught in the back of his throat. He recognized the sound of Adrien spitting into his hand, and knew what it meant when his groans changed pitch a moment after. Each stroke was accompanied by a wet, slick sound now, so Cristian knew exactly the pace Adrien set, could imagine exactly how fast his hand was moving over his cock. “Cristy,” Adrien gasped. “God. I want you so much. I wish you were here.” He sounded needy, desperate. Cristian imagined a flush crawling over his skin, up his throat, and the way he ran his tongue over his lip, sucked at it, caught it between his teeth until his lips were as swollen as if he’d been kissed. “Keep talking,” Cristian urged him. “I’m not going anywhere. Tell me how it feels.” “Feels?” Adrien gave a choked laugh. “Like I’m going to explode. I can’t bear it. It’s too much. I want you to beat me, like you did before. I want you to fuck me. God, Cristy, I want you to fuck me until I can’t take it anymore.” Cristian bit back his own moan. He slid his hand down, pressed it against his cock through his pants. “Keep going,” he murmured. “Let me hear you.” Adrien cried out. He gasped for breath, grunting and straining. Cristian wished he was there, too, wished he could watch, Adrien’s fingers curled around his cock, his hips moving, thrusting up into his fist, the muscles in his arms standing out in sharp relief as he 291

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strained toward release. The desire to be there with him was a sharp pain within Cristian’s chest. He wanted to fuck him like Adrien wanted to, pounding into him as Adrien’s hand pumped over his cock, swallowing his moans with kisses. “God,” Adrien gasped. “I can’t— I’m not— Oh fuck.” His stammered words broke off into a wrenching groan, and Cristian knew without needing to ask that he was coming. Cristian would have been able to feel Adrien’s muscles clamping down around if he was there, fucking him. He could have watched Adrien’s eyes fly wide with shock and surprise, then squeeze shut as his orgasm overtook him. Cristian closed his eyes as Adrien gasped into his ear and pretended he was there, holding Adrien in his arms as the aftershocks of his climax shuddered through him. Adrien’s breathing slowly steadied over the next few minutes, growing less ragged, softer. Finally, Adrien murmured, “Cristy?” “I’m here.” Adrien gave a weak laugh. “That was something else.” “Feel better?” “Mmm. Yeah. Pretty incredible, actually.” “I’m glad.” Cristian forced himself to take long, slow breaths, cooling the desire that burned inside him. “Go on home, Adrien. Get some sleep. Take care of yourself.” “Yeah, all right.” Adrien sighed, and then Cristian could hear the sounds of movement—Adrien rising, cleaning himself off, dressing. “Cristy?” “Yeah?” “Thanks.” Cristian smiled. “I’ll talk to you soon.” “Okay.” Adrien sounded surprised and pleased, and it made 292

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Cristian ridiculously happy to hear it. “Soon. Night.” When Adrien hung up, Cristian lowered the phone to his lap and exhaled slowly. That was something else, indeed, he thought, then dragged himself to his feet and went downstairs to find Felix.

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CHAPTER 15 Adrien shut his eyes against the streetlights that flashed through the car’s windows. The strobe effect was giving him a headache—or, more likely, the alcohol was, but the lights didn’t help, and he just wanted to find somewhere dark and close to go lie down until he’d sobered up. Morning would come too soon as it was, and once again, he was going to have hell to pay with Amber. It had been a mistake to start drinking. He should have stuck to the sparkling cider that had been available in consideration of his costar’s recently announced pregnancy. But it had been a cast party to celebrate the end of filming for Hang Ten, and Adrien had been so relieved that, because it was a private function, Amber hadn’t insisted he bring some up-and-coming starlet along as a date, and so glad filming was finally over, that he’d wanted to celebrate as 294

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hard as anyone. With only cast and crew around, it should have been safe. Even when he’d stumbled onto the street to hail a taxi and found himself face-to-face with a cluster of reporters, it had seemed innocuous enough. When filming ended, all anybody ever wanted to know was what to look for next. But Adrien had fucked that up, too. All he’d been able to think about was Cristy and Felix and how miserable the experience of making this movie had been, and how every time either of them had suggested he come back for another visit, he’d had to say, Sorry, I can’t, we’re still filming. Instead of saying something enthusiastic about having a few different projects lined up and how eager he was to start working on them, he’d blurted out that he was thinking of taking a break from acting for a while. Amber would be furious. He wasn’t supposed to be telling the world that he wanted to step out of the limelight for a while. He was supposed to be drumming up excitement for whatever project she brought him next. He was supposed to be keeping himself in the public eye, not hiding away from it. He probably should have called her to warn her, but he was drunk and he couldn’t bear the thought of having that conversation right now. It could wait for morning. Right now, all he wanted was to get home and get in his bed and sleep for a very long time. It would be morning in Spain now. Felix and Cristian should have been up and about by then. He could call them, once he got home—but, no, he probably shouldn’t. He’d shoved his foot deep enough in his mouth for one night. He didn’t want to screw it up with them, too, not when things had been going so well lately. It hardly seemed like it had been three weeks since that phone 295

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call with Cristian, when he’d jacked himself off while Cristian spoke in his ear, quiet and insistent. I’ll talk to you soon, he’d promised, and to Adrien’s delight, he had. After that, his phone calls had been split between both men. If Felix was out running errands, he’d talked to Cristian, and when Cristian was busy, he talked to Felix. Sometimes neither of them were busy and they fought good-naturedly over the phone and who got to talk to him, and Adrien felt like things were all right for at least a few minutes. He hadn’t had another phone call with Cristian like that first, though. Every time they spoke, Adrien lay in bed wondering if he dared try to encourage Cristian to do it again. He’d jacked himself off more times than he could count to the memory of that night, but in the end, fear always held his tongue. Even without more phone sex, the conversations he had with them both were wonderful, the only anchor that kept him grounded when he felt like the rest of life was in a turmoil. He’d rather get his release alone in the shower than risk screwing things up with either of them. The car stopped itself on the long drive in front of his house. Adrien climbed out, set it to park itself in the garage, and made his way up the walk to the front door. He itched to reach into his pocket and grab his cell phone. It had become habit to call Felix and Cristian every night when he got home, and they’d probably be expecting his call. He could explain tomorrow why they hadn’t heard from him. His stern resolution not to talk to them until he was sober went out the window when his phone rang, just as he’d finally managed to keep himself steady enough for the retina scan to snap its picture and unlock the door. He answered as he stepped into the house and turned the lock behind him, unable to help himself when their 296

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number was scrolling across his phone’s display. “Hi, Felix,” he said as he kicked off his shoes at the door. He didn’t bother to turn any lights on, not when he was planning to go straight upstairs and to bed. He could make his way around by memory and feel easily enough. “Adrien, it’s Cristian.” Adrien paused as he started toward the stairs. He’d talked to Cristian frequently during the past three weeks, but Cristian had never been the one to pick up the phone and call him. If anyone did, it was Felix. Otherwise, Adrien called and spoke to whichever one answered that day. “Cristy? Hi. How are you?” Cristian exhaled a sharp breath. “I’m fine,” he snapped, and Adrien knew it for a lie. “I saw that vid of you with the woman from Exposé.” Adrien frowned. He hadn’t done any scheduled interviews recently. He hadn’t had time, as they all worked even longer hours than normal to get filming wrapped on schedule. The only person he’d talked to in the better part of a week had been— “Wait, you mean tonight? God, news travels fast, doesn’t it? That couldn’t have been more than an hour ago.” “Are you really thinking about taking a break from acting?” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I don’t know. I just kind of blurted that out. I’m a little drunk.” He grimaced. “Maybe more than a little. I don’t know, maybe? I haven’t decided.” Cristian groaned. “Damn it… Adrien, I thought you loved acting. I thought that’s why— I mean— That’s why you’re back there, isn’t it? Driving yourself to exhaustion and going out every night with a different girl on your arm? You said you were content to live a lie for the sake of your career, but three months later, you’re taking a break from it? Jesus—” 297

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“God, you’re going to start in on this, too?” Adrien headed up the stairs to his room, but exhaustion made it seem as though he dragged hundred-pound weights with him every time he climbed a step. “I thought you said I was working too hard, that I needed to take it easy and let myself rest.” “I did,” Cristian said grudgingly. “And I meant it. But this isn’t the same. You’re throwing your career out the window—” “I’m not.” Anger pulsed through Adrien, all the stronger because he’d known this was exactly what Amber would say, but he hadn’t expected it from Cristian, and it caught him while he was vulnerable. “People take sabbaticals all the time. I’m just tired.” “Professors take sabbaticals,” Cristian said darkly. “Doctors take sabbaticals. Actors don’t take sabbaticals, they fall off the radar, and the next time anyone hears from them it’s because some station’s running a Where Are They Now retrospective about this poor has-been shmuck who everybody used to love until they forgot all about him.” Adrien reached up to the wall to keep himself steady as he climbed the stairs. He told himself it was the alcohol that made it necessary, not Cristian’s words. “Is that what you think? That I’m— Jesus.” He reached the second-floor landing and turned into his room. “You’re a hell of a one to talk. I’m ruining my career? What about you? Exactly how many guests have you had in the past three months? You’ve got this beautiful place and a thriving business and you’re killing it because you’re too damn scared to face the world.” “This isn’t about me,” Cristian snapped. “Of course not.” Adrien rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s none of your business what I decide to do with my career. What are you, my manager? Why should you care?” 298

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“Damn it, Adrien, I do care. Of course I care. I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t. Christ. You know, I used to dream that someday I’d get to watch you go down in flames, and I thought it’d be the best damn day of my life. And now— I could bear it when I thought you were doing all this because you loved acting enough to sacrifice for it, but you’re ruining your life for something you don’t even care about.” “Don’t say that!” Adrien paced across the room, too restless to even think about climbing into bed yet. “I care about acting.” “Oh, do you?” Cristian’s voice dripped sarcasm. “Then explain the past six weeks to me. You’ve been miserable. Every time I talk to you, you sound worse than before. How the hell do you expect to build your career on something that’s making you more and more unhappy every day? Why would you?” “Goddamn it, it’s not the acting.” Adrien spun and slammed his fist against the door so hard it rattled against the frame. “It’s you and Felix.” He leaned in against the door, his brow pressed against the wood, breathing heavy, his arm throbbing. “It’s been you from the start.” Cristian fell silent, but Adrien could hear him breathing, and knew he hadn’t hung up. “I’m sorry,” Adrien said after a long silence. He shut his eyes, sighed. “That came out wrong. I just miss you, that’s all. I don’t have anyone out here who doesn’t want a piece of me for what I can do for their careers. The producers, the writers, the other actors… All of them. Neither of you ever cared about that, and I…I miss you guys. I didn’t have to worry about that when I was with you.” Cristian drew an audible breath, long and deep. “Oh,” he said, quieter now, too. Adrien was relieved that he wasn’t yelling or scolding anymore. 299

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He pushed away from the door and crossed to the bed, dropped down onto it and lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling through the dark. He shouldn’t have answered the phone. He’d known he was going to screw it all up. He could leave now, beg off because he was drunk and exhausted, but this was an awful sort of argument to leave things on. It felt all wrong. To try to lighten the mood, he forced his voice light and joked, “Also, the sex was amazing.” Cristian laughed beneath his breath. “Yeah. It was.” He sounded like he was smiling, at least. But he also sounded a little wistful. Adrien pushed himself up onto his elbow, frowning. “It’s not anymore?” “Oh. God. Well.” Cristian sighed. He trailed off with a quiet, frustrated sound. “No, it’s fine. It’s…good.” Adrien ran his tongue over his lip. He wished he was there to see Cristian’s expression so he could read it. All he had to go on was the tone of Cristian’s voice, and it sounded all wrong. “Is it?” “Well. Sometimes.” Cristian sighed again. This time, he sounded weary, downtrodden. “We miss you, too, you know.” Adrien shut his eyes and sank down onto the bed again. “I wish I was there,” he breathed, faint enough he wasn’t sure if Cristian heard it. Even that much felt like a remarkable act of bravery, like he was taking an extraordinary risk to admit it, even at a whisper. “Do you?” A hint of a smile leeched into Cristian’s voice. “What would you do if you were?” Adrien shut his eyes. He was sure Cristian had meant it as an innocuous question, with any number of innocent answers. But the alcohol was still sliding through Adrien’s system, loosening his tongue and turning his thoughts invariably to sex. If he were back 300

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in Spain, back with them, he certainly wouldn’t waste his time playing the tourist. He knew he shouldn’t say it, probably not at all and certainly not to Cristian, but by the time he thought to stop himself, the words were already tumbling off his tongue. “If I were there? We could fuck Felix together again, like we did last time.” “That’s what you want to do?” Cristian sounded surprised. But not shocked or irritated, the way Adrien had feared. “Yeah,” he said with a wistful sigh. “I’d like that.” “He’s downstairs,” Cristian said. “Let me go find him.” Adrien sat upright, his pulse suddenly unsteady. “What, you mean now?” “Yes.” Cristian was clearly amused, probably wearing that lopsided, bemused grin of his. “We could wait until you get here. When can you leave?” He said it so plainly, so easily, like that was all there was to it. You wish you were here? So when does your flight land? “Not yet. Not for a few weeks. I have to stick around. Filming’s done, but now it’ll be going into rendering and post production, and they’re bound to end up calling me in to rerecord some bits of dialogue that the boom mic didn’t quite catch, or that got drowned out by ambient sound, or that I accidentally garbled and no one caught until listening to it in the cutting room, or who knows. I can’t leave. Not yet.” “All right.” The warm amusement was still in Cristian’s voice, so full Adrien imagined it washing over him, sweeping away everything else so that there was only the cool dark of his room and Cristian smiling at him, amused at whatever it was Adrien had done or said that he found funny. “So do you want to wait a few weeks, or should I go find Felix?” 301

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Adrien swallowed and pushed himself upright. “Go find him.” He listened to Cristian walking, the sound of doors creaking open or closed behind him, the heavier beat of his steps as he descended the stairs. A moment later, Cristian said, “Here he is. We’re in the kitchen.” He chuckled. “And he’s not even dressed yet. He’s sitting at the bar in his bathrobe drinking coffee.” “Cristy?” Felix’s voice was muffled and distant, but still intelligible and clearly bewildered. “What are you doing? Who is that?” Cristian’s response was muffled, too, like he’d covered the receiver to speak with Felix. “It’s Adrien.” “Oh.” Felix’s tone of voice changed entirely, from suspicion to pleased surprise. “Here, let me have it—” “No.” Cristian’s voice turned sharp and authoritative, leaving no room for argument. “I’m talking to him now.” Adrien listened to the silence that followed his declaration, his heart beating harder as he strained to hear what was going on. “Okay,” Felix said at last, dragging out the last syllable. “What’s going on?” “Adrien?” Cristian spoke into the phone again, his voice louder and much more distinct. “What do you want me to do?” Adrien’s stomach shivered in anticipation. There were innumerable possibilities spread out before him, each one better than the last. “I think you’d better kiss him.” Cristian laughed, low and husky. “Well. If you insist.” The wet sounds of kissing made sudden arousal clench in Adrien’s stomach. He ran his tongue over his lip, then sucked it into his mouth and worked it between his teeth. When the kiss ended, Cristian murmured, “Mmm. He tastes like coffee. And— Felix, isn’t it a little early to be spiking your coffee?” 302

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“It’s just Bailey’s. Leave it alone.” “He looks a little confused,” Cristian said into the phone. “And very sexy.” The pitch of his voice dropped. There were more sounds of kissing, and then— “Damn it, Cristy” Cristian laughed, low and warm. “There, I’ve untied his bathrobe for you. He’s not wearing anything underneath.” Felix hissed out a breath and demanded, “What the hell are you doing? What’s going on?” Cristian’s voice dropped again, intimate. Felix must be very close, if Cristian expected him to hear what he said. “Adrien wants to have sex with you,” he murmured. “I thought I’d oblige him.” “He what? Oh.” Laughter lurked in Felix’s voice. “Is that so?” “Mm-hmm. Very much, I think.” More kisses. Adrien shifted restlessly on the bed until Felix spoke. “Tell me what he’s wearing.” “I have no idea.” Cristian sounded startled by the request, or the realization. Felix laughed. “Well, ask him. I can’t fuck him if he’s dressed, can I?” Adrien reached for the hem of his shirt before Cristian even had a chance to relay the question. “I’m taking them off,” he said quickly, and maybe he was too eager, but he didn’t care. “Give me one sec.” “He’s undressing,” Cristian said, muffled again, so he must be talking to Felix. Then, clearer, “Adrien, wait. He wants to do it.” Adrien’s hands froze. He bit back a groan. “Tell me.” “He’s standing very close,” Cristian murmured. “And kissing the side of your throat as he pulls your shirt out of your pants. His hands are— Jesus. They’re hot. Is that from the coffee mug?” 303

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Felix said something in response, too indistinct for Adrien to make out. Cristian made a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh and continued. “They’re on your stomach. Both of them, pressed flat. He’s sliding them up toward your chest, and pushing your shirt up with it. Damn it!” Cristian gasped. “Adrien, are you ticklish on your sides? Just beneath your ribs?” “No,” Adrien told him, but slid his hands up under his shirt and ran them over that spot anyway, imagining that his hands were Felix’s. “Well, you’re a lucky bastard. I am, and he knows it.” Cristian took a deep breath. “There. He’s got your shirt off now.” Adrien sat up in bed so he could wrestle it off over his head. “And he’s sliding his hands down again. Down your chest and stomach to your pants. He’s working them open—pushing them down—underwear, too. Ah, God.” Adrien stretched back on the bed and dropped the phone into its dock. The sound of the other men’s breathy gasps and groans filled his bedroom as the house computer took over the call. With both hands freed, Adrien pushed his hips up off the mattress so he could shuck his pants and underwear off. Naked, he sat up and demanded, “What’s he doing?” “He’s—kneeling on the floor. In front of you.” Cristian’s words sounded forced, like he was speaking through clenched teeth. “God, Adrien. He slid his bathrobe off already. He’s naked now, and he’s kneeling there, and he looks incredible.” Adrien could imagine it, Felix kneeling on the kitchen floor, naked, aroused. He could imagine it all too well. “What’s he doing?” The sounds coming through from Cristian’s end of the call were driving him mad, and he needed someone to touch him. “His hand is on your cock,” Cristian said very quietly. “He’s 304

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got his fingers wrapped around it, just at the base, but he’s not stroking it. He’s holding it as he bends forward and—his tongue— Jesus.” “Where?” Adrien demanded. He wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and squeezed. Desire pulsed through him, maddening. If he’d been there, he’d have threaded his fingers through Felix’s hair and guided his tongue to where he wanted it. It was a hundred times worse, to have to sit and wait and wonder. “He’s licking you,” Cristian said at last, strangled and faint. “Slowly. He’s so gentle.” Adrien licked the palm of his other hand and reached down to stroke himself. He rubbed his palm over his cock, pretending the dampness was Felix’s tongue and the roof of his mouth. His breath hitched and stuttered. He barely managed to groan, “What else? Tell me. What’s he doing now?” “He’s still licking,” Cristian murmured. “Taking you deeper, a little. Slowly. His mouth is so warm…” Felix gave a low hum and Cristian gasped. Adrien thrust up into his fist and tried to keep his own breathing steady so he could hear everything. Cristian’s voice grew ragged and needy as he continued, telling Adrien everything Felix did and how it felt. Adrien moved his hand over his cock, slow when Cristian said Felix was moving slow, faster when Cristian said he’d sped up. With his eyes shut and Cristian’s voice in his ear, his own room fell away. He could almost believe he was there with them, seeing what Cristian saw, feeling everything as he described it. His body tightened, aroused beyond bearing by six weeks of abstinence and everything Cristian described. “Cristian,” Adrien gasped when he couldn’t bear it anymore. 305

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“Blow jobs are nice, but I want to fuck him. Have him lie down on the floor there, on his back.” He knew when Cristian had stopped him because Felix said, “What?” and he sounded unhappy. “Shh,” Cristian told him. “Lie down. Here, like this.” A moment passed, and then Cristian said into the phone. “There. He’s lying down now.” “How’s he look?” Cristian gave a broken laugh. “Beautiful. He’s got his knees drawn up, and you’re kneeling between them. His face is flushed, all the way down his throat and across his chest. His cock’s red, too. That only happens when he’s really turned on.” He paused. The silence crackled with tension. “He looks like he wants to be kissed very badly.” Adrien gripped himself tighter, stroked faster. “Ask him.” “Do you?” “Yes!” Felix gasped. “God, please. Adrien, tell him—” “Do it.” Felix’s words broke off immediately, replaced by the sounds of a fast, sloppy kiss. They both moaned, making hungry noises. Adrien fucked into his fist as he listened to them. He scraped the pad of his thumb across his lip and pretended that he had someone there to kiss him, too. When they finally ended the kiss, both of them were panting, and Adrien was, too. He slowed his strokes over his cock reluctantly, but he wanted to hear them, and he suspected he was outpacing them. A few minutes more and he could have come right there, listening to them make out. “He wants you,” Cristian said into the phone, between breaths. “Bad. He’s twisting beneath you and biting at your throat. And his 306

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hands won’t stay still. He’s running them all over you, on your back, down your sides, over your ass—” Cristian broke off with a hiss. He was only quiet for a second, but when he spoke again, his voice was even more strained. “He’s grinding up against you,” he groaned. “Sliding his cock against yours. Fuck.” Adrien pressed his cock to his stomach with the flat of his palm. He thrust up against his hand, sliding against it so he could pretend it was Felix’s stomach. Even that was too much. “Cristy,” he groaned. “Is he ready?” “Very ready.” Cristian did something that made Felix gasp. “Do you want to fuck him?” “Yes. Right now.” Adrien spat in his palm and stroked himself again. His grip was slick, slippery. “Let me hear you.” Indistinct sounds came over the line. It didn’t take any effort at all for Adrien to shut his eyes and imagine them repositioning themselves. If Adrien really had been the one fucking him, he’d have hooked an arm under Felix’s leg and drawn his knees up toward his chest, so Adrien could press the head of his cock against Felix’s entrance and watch the changes that swept across his expression as Adrien sank into him. Felix cried out as though Adrien’s imaginings had made it reality, as perfectly timed as if Adrien really was fucking him. Need made the breath thick in his throat. Adrien groaned as he stroked himself, fucking into his hand. He thrust up hard with every downstroke, wanting more than his own hand could provide. It would have been excruciating, to need so much and be denied— but Cristian and Felix’s gasps and groans made it so perfect he couldn’t have complained, even if he’d had the breath left to speak. It was a fine line to walk, as thin as a thread. Adrien shuddered when he had to take his hand from his cock, even just long enough 307

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to spit in his palm again, so it was slick enough that he could keep pumping, fast and hard. Cristian and Felix gasped and groaned against his ear. It was the sexiest thing Adrien had ever heard, listening to them fuck one another, knowing that they were thinking about him being there, wanting him there. When Felix’s noises turned sharp and desperate, Adrien tightened his grip on his cock and stroked it faster, keeping time with Felix’s frantic whimpers. He was so close. He could have come in an instant—but he didn’t want this to end, not yet. He clenched his muscles tight, holding it off, though it made sweat break out across his skin and his whole body shake. Cristian groaned and the sounds of their flesh slapping together came quicker. Adrien moaned at the image it created in his mind of Cristian pounding into Felix. Felix cried out, gasped hard and moaned, “God. Cristy—Adrien—Jesus.” Adrien sucked air through his teeth and drove himself to his body’s limits, his hand flying over his cock. The tension wound through him until he was drawn tight as a bowstring, shaking hard from the strain of holding himself back. When Cristian gasped and gave an erotic groan, it was too much. Adrien’s hips jerked, driving himself up into his hand as his whole body shuddered, pleasure skating across his skin like electricity. He spurted ropes of semen across his stomach, groaning as his orgasm went on and on, coming longer and harder than he could remember ever having before. When his climax finally released him, he slumped back onto the bed, panting hard, drained completely. He slipped his hand off his cock, curled it on his stomach, and listened as Felix and Cristian’s breathing gradually steadied. 308

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He felt wonderful, lazy and lethargic, but simultaneously energized. His lungs felt raw, his body wrung and empty in the best of ways. “Cristy?” he murmured lazily. “Mmm.” Cristy sounded as spent as Adrien felt. “I’m still here. I think.” Adrien didn’t even have enough strength left to properly laugh. But it was soothing to hear Cristian’s voice, and Felix speaking indistinctly in the background. Adrien shut his eyes and sighed, perfectly content for the first time he could recall since he’d stepped off the plane at LAX. “God,” he murmured. He could already feel his body sinking down into the bed, his mind drifting as sleep crept in. “That was wonderful. You’re wonderful.” He rolled over onto his side, curled loosely into a ball. “You both are.” He felt warm and safe, cocooned from the difficulty of the past six weeks. “I love you,” he breathed on the tail end of a sigh, halfway to drifting off already. The quality of silence coming across the line changed instantly. It drew him back from the limits of sleep, woke him up enough that he’d realized what he’d said. Adrenaline shot through his system, chasing away the foggy fingers of exhaustion. “What? Do…do you mean for me to say that to Felix?” Adrien’s heart lurched. He sat and curled in on himself, around the sudden pain in his breast. “No.” He had to force the word out through the tightness in his throat. “I mean…I meant you. Both of you. I love you. I…God.” He drew a ragged breath and rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. I’m still drunk. Forget it.” Cristian drew a swift breath, as though he meant to speak, and Adrien couldn’t bear the thought of what he might say. “Disconnect,” he snapped before Cristian could say a word. 309

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The wall display glowed blue, then faded to darkness. Adrien hugged his knees hard against his chest. The pain spread, reaching fingers out through him until every part of him hurt. It was an awful shock, so soon after and in such contrast to the wonderful contentedness that was nothing but a memory now. He’d ruined it. He had no one to blame but himself. The phone rang. Adrien jumped, and stared at the wall display with a knot in his throat. It glowed bright as ever, announcing the incoming call. Reject. The word hovered in his throat, uncertain. He’d already fucked up enough as it was. He should just hang up, turn the phone off, and crawl back under the covers. He could apologize again tomorrow, when he was sober. Clearly, he couldn’t be trusted when alcohol loosened his lips. Despite himself and the fact that every remaining rational thought he possessed screamed at him to dump the call and leave well enough alone, Adrien found himself answering the call. What the hell. I’m obviously a glutton for punishment. Might as well kick myself while I’m down. Why not? Nothing to lose now. “Cristy, look, I’m sorry—” “Adrien, be quiet.” Cristian didn’t sound angry or shocked or appalled, or anything else Adrien might have imagined of him. He gave the command with calm, quiet forcefulness, and Adrien swallowed the rest of his words before he even realized he’d decided to obey. He sat in silence, so tense he was shivering, feeling like a man at trial waiting for the guilty verdict to be handed down. Cristian drew a deep breath before he continued. “We’re coming out there. Felix is booking the tickets now. Do we need to 310

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make hotel reservations?” The world tilted precariously around Adrien. “You’re what? No, I— A hotel? No, I have room. I have lots of rooms. You can stay in one of them, of course—if you want—” Cristian sounded wry and amused. He sounded like he was smiling, but that was inconceivable, impossible… “Adrien, if you shuffle us off to some spare room after we’ve flown six thousand miles to be with you, we’re both going to be very put out.” Adrien leaned his brow on his knees, struggling to breathe. “Cristy, what are you saying? I don’t understand.” “I’m saying, we love you, too.” Cristian was smiling now. He had to be. There was no other way a man’s voice could be that warm, that wonderful. “We’re coming to be with you. The next flight out. Look, I have to go, or we’ll never make it. It’s a long drive to Badajoz, and if we miss this flight the next one doesn’t leave until tomorrow. We can’t wait that long.” “I— You— What?” Adrien pressed his fingers to his cheeks and realized that they were wet, and he was crying. “You what?” Cristian chuckled. The sound was rich and full and seemed to envelop him. “We love you, Adrien. I’ll call you when we land in LA.” “Okay,” Adrien managed to choke through his tears. “See you soon.” And then Cristian hung up and he was alone in his room, and everything had changed.

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AISLINN K ERRY

Aislinn Kerry wrote her first romance on a whim and hasn’t been able to stop since. She has always been fascinated with the misfits, the misunderstood, and the things that go bump in the night. She blames it on an unnatural obsession with Beauty and the Beast at an impressionable age. To learn more about Aislinn and her writing, please visit her website: http://www.aislinnkerry.com *

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Don’t miss Smoke by Aislinn Kerry, available at AmberAllure.com!

Loving another man is a sin…but loving a vampire is worse… In deeply religious 19th-century Italy, Valentino knows that admitting his attraction to men, even to himself, could put him in grave danger. The church prefers to burn vampires to keep their congregation living in fear and paying their tithes, but a sinner like Val would also do in a pinch.

Val suppresses his sexual desires and joins the clergy, hoping to live a life of piety and devotion, until the day Dante, one of the devil’s own vampires, comes to him begging to confess his sins. Val can’t help his attraction to the vampire, and refuses to succumb to it, even as Dante tries to seduce him. But Val soon realizes he can no longer deny the truth of who he is, or what he wants. In desperation, and putting his life on the line to save the soul of the vampire he loves, Val searches for proof that a man can be a vampire without being damned. But his questions soon attract the church’s attention, and they arrest him, and also plan to make an example of him for the congregation to see. Will Val face a horrific execution, or will Dante somehow be able to rescue him in time?

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