Forever

Chapter 2-2

“You think I’d have shot him? I’m cut to the quick.”

“Oh? You had no intention of taking him apart?”

“No. Well, as long as he didn’t call me a pickle chugger.”

Quinn came to a dead stop. “What…where do you pick up these terms?”

“A misspent childhood, babe. C’mon. I’ve got plans for you.”

* * * *

Quinn’s car was parked off-street a block away.

“This isn’t your Lexus.”

“No. It’s in the shop again. This is a loaner. Where’s your car parked?”

I told him and waited for him to ask what it was doing there. He didn’t; he just said, “Get in,” and drove me to it. “I’ll follow you to your place.”

Traffic had eased off a bit, so it wasn’t too long before I parked my Dodge at the curb in front of the house where I lived. Quinn found a spot a couple of doors down and walked back to join me.

I knew the house was empty. The ladies who occupied the first two floors were away for a couple of weeks, Matheson was out of town on an assignment, and the rent boy he lived with was visiting family in Tarpon Springs.

As soon as the street door closed behind us, I swung him around, shoved him against the door, and braced my arms on either side of his head. Quinn’s eyes were heavy-lidded, his lips were parted, and the tip of his tongue came out to moisten his upper lip. I leaned into him.

Quinn was hard. So was I. He slid a leg between mine and raised it, and I rocked back and forth on it.

“You like that, do you?” He wound his fingers in my hair, tipped my head to the side, and ran his teeth over the tendon in my neck.

“f**k, baby. Don’t mark me.” But I angled my head, offering him more of my neck. I liked the feel of his teeth against it.

He licked the spot, then loosened my tie and began unbuttoning my shirt. “One day I want to take you away for a week.”

“Oh, yeah?” I…liked that idea. I’d never gone on vacation with anyone, and I was distracted by thoughts of what that might be like with Quinn. And because I wasn’t paying attention, I suddenly found myself up against the door.

“Oh, yeah.” He nipped my throat. “I’ll mark you every single day, but where no one else could see it. Only I would know you were mine.”

“Think you’re so alpha?”

He kissed the hinge of my jaw, then drew back and ran the fingertips of his right hand along the curve of my ear. “I’m willing to take turns.”

“I thought that was my line. C’mon. I want you in bed before it’s time for you to leave.” I grabbed his hand.

“Good idea.” He tightened his fingers around mine, and we began pounding up the stairs.

Anyone around to watch would have been amused by our scramble. Hell, I’d have been amused if I wasn’t so desperate to get into him.

We were no sooner in my apartment with the door locked behind us than Quinn shucked his suit jacket, unzipped his fly and shoved his trousers and shorts down his legs, and bent over the back of my couch.

I did the same, rolled on a condom, and prepared him, taking my time. We’d been lovers long enough that he didn’t need much, but it was something we both enjoyed. I stroked a finger across his hole and dipped in, pulled out, dipped in deeper.

“Vincent!”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Jesus, you’re driving me crazy. f**k me, already.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“Bastard.”

“But I’m your bastard.”

“Mark.”

I lubed the condom, lined the head of my c**k with his hole, and began a slow, steady push.

I’d f****d others, but it had never been anything like this. The sounds he made….

Having my c**k in Quinton Mann’s ass was the most unbelievable feeling. Hot, snug, the rippling of his inner muscles caressing my c**k—I wondered, for the first time, what having him without a condom between us would feel like. The heat wouldn’t be muted by the latex of the condom, I’d feel his prostate, and when we came, I’d coat his insides with thick ropes of semen.

I wanted him naked. Very carefully, I pulled out of him. A glance at the wall clock told me we had time.

“Mark, what…” He straightened and looked at me, his eyes glazed with lust.

“Bed. Now.”

We stripped off our clothes. Well, I stripped off my clothes. Quinn leaned against the couch, wrestling with his tie. It was getting him frustrated, so I got him undressed, down the short hallway, and onto my bed. And I wanted him so much the condom stayed in place the entire time.

This time I had Quinn on his back, his arms above his head, our fingers entwined. I buried my c**k in him, and I was surrounded by his heat. I held myself still, getting so much pleasure out of being inside my lover.

“Move, dammit.” His legs were sprawled wide, cradling mine, and he braced his feet and rocked up, taking me deeper into him. “Please.”

I manacled his wrists with one hand and used the other to toy with his n*****s, his sensitive n*****s, then dipped my head to lick and nip them.

Quinn writhed and bucked under me, driven wild with passion. I began to move. He wrapped his legs around my hips and arched into my thrusts. And again, those sounds….

Beads of sweat caught on his eyebrows, clung to his cheekbones. I leaned down and licked them off.

“Mark.” His eyes glittered.

“I’m here, babe.”

He shuddered and gasped, and I chased the sound into his mouth with my tongue. He sucked on it voraciously. He tightened his legs around me, and come splashed onto my torso, warm, wet streaks of it.

“Mark.”

“Not…not yet.”

“Yes.” His inner muscles clamped down on me, and I groaned and came. Quinn held me and stroked the long muscles of my back, and finally I caught my breath.

“Hey. Don’t fall asleep.” He pinched my hip. “I have to leave.”

“f**k. Okay.” I eased out of him and removed the condom. “Do you have time for a shower?”

“No. If I get in the shower, you’d come in after me. Not that I have any objections, but then we’d have to take a nap, I’d wind up oversleeping, and I’d miss my flight.”

I could have told him that was what alarm clocks were for, but I didn’t want to come across as an inconsiderate kind of lover, so I went along with him. “Okay, I’ll get a washcloth and clean you up.”

Quinn was lying on the bed with his eyes closed when I got back. He hummed as I wiped the cooling semen off his body.

“Will you be okay to drive? I can drive you to Alexandria and then call a cab to get home.”

“I’m fine. I have to get dressed.”

I left the washcloth on the nightstand, took a pair of shorts from a drawer and pulled them on before following him out of the bedroom.

“Can I get you something before you leave?” I picked up my clothes, handing him socks and shorts that had gotten mixed with mine.

“You’ve given me what I want.” Quinn kissed me and went back to dressing. When he finished, he slid his arms first into his shoulder holster and then into his suit jacket and walked to the door. I unlocked it for him, but he stood there. “I was thinking…. I’ve got some time off coming to me. After the embassy ball, how would you feel about getting away for a week?”

“You’re serious?”

“Mark, I’m always serious.”

Like he was always cold-natured? But I didn’t challenge him. He wanted to go away with me.

“What do you think?”

“Were we going anywhere in particular?”

His eyes lit up, the green they got sometimes. Had he thought I’d say “no”?

“How does Key West sound to you? They have an easy attitude toward same-s*x couples. No one would bother us.”

No one would bother us anyway. I grinned. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Good. I’ll make the—Dammit. I’ll be away.”

“I can make reservations. I know how to use a phone, you know.”

He teased my ear. “I never doubted that. Taylor House is good. Mother and I used to go there during winter recess. Mention my name.”

“Okay. Listen. Be careful, okay?” Where the f**k had that come from? “Uh…I don’t want to have to come after your ass again.”

“Of course. Worrywart.” He kissed me. “But just so you know, my ass and I appreciate your concern. I’ll call you when I get back.”

“Call me when you get home.”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“Tonight. When you get home tonight.” He was more tired than I’d seen him since the days after that Prinzip bullshit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Humor me, okay?” I pulled him back for a last kiss, and then watched as he went toward the stairs.

Twenty minutes later, he called, and after telling him to have a safe trip, I went to bed.

* * * *

It had been a busy week—The Boss had signed me up with a local golf pro, and after spending time with her, I tended to head straight for the gym and a session with M. Bélanger, the fencing master.

But now it was Friday again. If Quinn were in town we’d be going to Raphael’s, but for the past week he’d been in the Far East on a job. And according to the information I’d found, he wasn’t scheduled to return for another three days. Which was bullshit, but that was the CIA for you.

I’d just returned to my office from harassing Gershom, who ran Security like a lady with a paper ass, and I was in the middle of entering some data into my computer when my cell phone rang.

“Vincent.”

“Hi. It’s me.” Quinn. And from the clarity of the call, he was back in town.

“Hello, me.” I shouldn’t take this call here, but f**k it. My c**k was more interested than it had been in seven days. I shifted in my chair.

“I’m just calling to make sure we’re on for dinner tonight.”

“It’s Friday, isn’t it? I’ll see you at Raphael’s at eight. Want me to make the reservations?”

“If you wouldn’t mind? I’ve got so much paperwork to catch up on.” He sounded tired, but I wasn’t about to tell him how to do his job.

“Sure thing.”

“Thanks. And speaking of reservations….”

“I called Taylor House. We’re booked for a week from Sunday. I also booked a flight out of National down to Key West.”

“You do good work, Vincent.”

“You’re not just finding that out, are you?”

He laughed.

“Okay, I’ll see you about eight tonight?”

“About eight, then. Bye, babe.”

“Bye.” I ran my palm over the front of my trousers. “He’s home.” I cleared my throat. “I mean, we’re gonna get laid tonight.”

Raphael’s had this new thing where you could make your reservations online, which was convenient since they didn’t open until five thirty, so I went to their website and did that before getting back to work.

* * * *

Shortly before noon, my office phone rang. “Vincent.”

“My office.” It was The Boss.

“I’m on my way, sir.”

Over a lunch of greens—Mr. Wallace had been instructed by his doctor that he needed more raw, leafy vegetables in his diet—we discussed Senator Franklin, who was working for us, and Senator Wexler, who was working against us.

Finally, Mr. Wallace said, “The ball at the Bahsrani Embassy is a week from tomorrow. Senator Wexler is guaranteed to be there.”