CHAPTER SIX #2
When the elevator doors slid open, we strode down the silent hallway to our suites.
Nate fumbled in his tuxedo pocket for his keycard.
So, the decision was made, we were eating in his suite.
I let him go as he opened the door and staggered in.
The scent of Nate’s sandalwood aftershave was strong in the room.
I’d always been drawn to the woodsy smell on him.
The man himself sauntered toward the bathroom.
I closed and locked the door. The turn down chambermaid had been in.
I always refused the turndown service. It felt too invasive.
I was more than capable of preparing for bed myself!
But the lights in the lounge were dimmed, the suite was tidy, the bed comforter prepared with a corner folded over, a small box of four foil wrapped chocolate cherry liqueurs lay on the pillow, a couple of bottles of mineral water sat on the nightstand and slippers had been placed at the foot of the bed.
The drapes were open to showcase the dramatic, romantic panorama of Parisian night lights.
It was a gorgeous view. I swiftly moved to the mini-bar and collected two of bottles of still water.
I put them on the coffee table, and sat on the couch.
Ravenous, I tore open the McDonalds bag, retrieving the first of four cartons, each containing a double cheese burger.
This was my reward for all of the fuckery I’d endured.
I’d get an extra workout in this week to burn it off.
I opened the carton and the filthy, delicious scent made my tummy growl.
But before I could take a bite there was a knock at the door.
Damn it! I put my burger down and strode to the door.
Looking through the peephole, I saw Dimitri and Hector were outside. I opened the door.
“Hi guys. I got him back safe. You can clock off. Thanks for your help,” I said cordially, even though it was a lie.
“We are on duty until midnight. We will be awake in the suite next door,” Hector said.
“Okay, thanks,” I said and closed the door.
Then with my suit jacket and dickey-bow blessedly off I was back on the couch preparing for the feast.
Nate returned to the lounge then, his tux jacket removed, along with the bow tie.
The top buttons of his shirt and his suit pants were undone, and the shirt was pulled out from the waistband.
He stood dishevelled, watching me as I pulled a serving of fries from the bag and poured them into the open lid of my burger carton.
After stuffing a couple of fries in my mouth I moaned orgasmically.
I then undressed the cheeseburger and taking the first bite of filthy heaven I moaned again before looking up and meeting Nate’s gaze.
My friend was slowly sobering up, his guard was down, and he stared at me, eyes glazed with lust, like I was on the menu and not the burger.
I took him in and oh; he had an unmistakable bulge in his trousers.
I decided there and then that, in the circumstances, I could ignore the fact that watching me eat had given Nate a semi, honestly, I could.
I focused on the burger, took another bite, chewed, swallowed.
I couldn’t have him staring at me like a dog at mealtime.
I put my burger down and ordered, “Sit, eat.” I pulled another burger and fries from the bag for my friend.
I unscrewed the top from a bottle of water and placed the open bottle beside his burger.
“He wasn’t a Nazi,” Nate said all of a sudden.
“Who?”
“The guy who tried to attack me. I remember you saying earlier that he was a Nazi. Why did you say that?”
“I heard him; he was shouting ‘Heil’ as he ran at you with a fucking knife.”
“He wasn’t saying Heil, the German word. He was calling Hale. H.A.L.E. That’s…my birth name, Nathan Hale. Linden’s my stage name,” he explained sheepishly.
“Oh, I never knew that. Is your real name common knowledge?”
“No, that’s what’s freaking me out. I changed my name twelve years ago after my dad died. I needed a clean slate, away from…well everything.”
“Then how did that guy know your real name and why did he want to injure you? Have you been getting death threats? Do you have another stalker?” Concerns tumbled into my brain.
I recalled that five years ago Nate had been very public about his need to take legal action against a fan named Kat Shamalov, who was the daughter of a Russian oligarch.
It was a big story in the press at the time.
The young woman was adamant that she and Nate were destined to be together.
The fact he’s gay and married was irrelevant to her.
She’d shown up at premières in all kinds of disguises to try and get photographed beside him.
She’d sent letters and used underwear to his home because she believed her intimate scent would awaken lustful feelings in her victim.
She trailed him when he’d go for a jog in Central Park.
She followed him to LA when he stayed at his Palisades home, and turned up at charity events, it was scary stuff.
Nate’s shoulders sagged. “No, I haven’t gotten any threats. I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on. I can’t handle this. I just want to sleep for a year,” he sighed dejectedly.
“Fuck mate, take a load off, sit, eat, it’ll make you feel better,” I suggested. Nate seemed to shudder out of his fugue state. He eased down beside me on the grey velvet couch, and sighed again, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He stared at his cheeseburger.
“Jack, someone wanted to hurt me.”
“I know, I know. Don’t worry mate, he’s in jail, and you’ll be home tomorrow,” I pacified. I didn’t know what else to do to comfort him.
“Jack,” Nate said, a tremor in his voice.
I swallowed my mouthful and turned to meet his cerulean eyes.
I put the burger down, “Mate, you’ve got to eat someth—“ I didn’t get to finish my sentence because in a swift, seamless move, Nate slid his hand to cradle the nape of my neck and, oh, his skin on my skin lit me up like a firecracker.
It felt like a world exploding touch, and before I could blink, he’d pulled me forward to crush his lips against mine.
Yes, yes, yes. As if his mouth was a key, I opened for him and he sighed out a groan that sounded something like “Finally!” Nate tasted of minty toothpaste, and I was all burger and fries.
He moaned appreciatively at my taste. My greasy fingers clasped his stubble rough cheeks as we ate at each other, the desire we’d both kept in check for a whole fucking year finally unleashed.
He eased me back to lie on the soft velvet couch and then moved his bulk on top of me.
I’d dreamed of this, longed for it. The planets had finally aligned, along with our bodies.
Nate and I had played out romantic clinches, smooching on the couch, the floor, in bed, on a beach, in a closet, and in a car, always choreographed, always surrounded by our film crew and intimacy co-ordinator.
After filming hours of intimate scenes, less than ten minutes passed the edit and appeared in the movie.
But alone, here and now, there was no one to stop us, no one preventing me from letting go, from groaning wantonly at how good Nate tasted, no one to stop me grabbing his muscled arse with both hands and pulling him in roughly to grind against my hardening length.
Nate’s weigh on me was familiar, so god damn familiar.
Nothing could stop us exploring each other’s mouths, faces, and throats with fevered nips, licks, and kisses.
I was burning up from the inside as Nate ground his firm body against me like he was on a mission.
He had a great cock, perfectly average in length, but good and thick.
I wanted it in my mouth, and thrust into other places too.
There was no one to stop us…no one…well, apart from me and my bloody annoying conscience.
After a few exquisite minutes of grinding and devouring one another I put my hands to Nate’s chest and gently eased him up.
We were both gasping for air, our lips puffy, pupils blown wide, lust drunk.
“Stop mate, stop,” I gasped overwhelmed by the power in our shared passion.
That was the best kiss of my life, but this was madness.
It was the wrong time, but, maybe with the right guy?
Thinking with the brain not throbbing hotly at my groin, I decided that, right now, no matter how horny we both were, Nate was too vulnerable.
He was still married, and even if his relationship was on the rocks, he’s not the kind of man who would break his marriage vows, they meant too much to him.
Nate needed me more as a friend than as a lover.
I’m not a revenge fuck, or a rebound guy.
I wanted Nate, my god, how I wanted him, but if we slept together and Nate regretted it, our friendship could be damaged.
I was sure that, soberly, neither of us wanted that.
“What…what was that for?” I asked, sprawled on the couch, thoroughly dazed by the maelstrom of our kiss.
Nate sat up. He ran a hand through his mussed-up hair, and licked his lips like he wanted to consume that final taste of me.
The sight of it went straight to my aching balls.
He reached for the bottle of water and took a long swallow.
Yes, that was a good choice. I sat up straightened my clothes and grabbed my water.
“It was a thank you…for saving my life…for always having my back,” he said. I’d never heard him so lust wrecked before.
“You’ve nothing to thank me for. And, let’s be honest babe, that wasn’t a friend thank you, was it?” We both remained silent for a stretched-out moment, lost in our own heads before Nate spoke.